by Stacey Kade
I’d have pushed harder to talk with him, but he’d made no effort to reach me, as far as I knew, and I figured he might still be mad. I hadn’t had a chance to explain to him what I was doing in taking over Lily’s body. He probably thought I’d done it just because I could. And if that was the case, he might never talk to me again. My heart ached at the idea that I was in this alone now. I missed him.
“Are you all right, honey?” Mrs. Turner asked. “You look pale.”
“Just tired, I guess.” In truth, I was bone-weary exhausted. This being alive was much more work than I remembered it being. Of course, seeing as I was in a damaged body, one that wasn’t my own, maybe it wasn’t all that surprising that it took more effort than I remembered.
“Why don’t you lie down for a couple of hours? Dinner won’t be ready until about six anyway,” Mrs. Turner said.
Planting face first into the pillow and shutting out the world for a while sounded like a wonderful idea.
I let Mrs. Turner pull back the covers and help me into bed. I could probably have managed it myself, but it was kind of nice to have the assistance.
She pulled the sheet up to my shoulder and tucked it around me. “And Blankie’s under your pillow again,” she whispered before kissing my forehead and backing away.
She left the room and closed the door partially behind her. With an effort, I rolled onto my side and slid my hand under the pillow, locating the ragged bit of satin that was Lily’s Blankie with my fingertips. Even the idea of how many germs it might hold didn’t stop me from touching it. How many nights had she laid here, just like this, thinking and wondering about tomorrow? How long would I be here doing that in her stead?
Thinking of all this, I started to doze off, and that’s when the voices started…again.
“This is her?” The first one asked. The speaker sounded female and young. I kept my eyes squinched shut. There’s no one there. No one. No one. No one…
“I guess,” the second voice, male, this time, said.
“I don’t get what the big deal is,” the female said, sounding impatient. “So, she’s awake. I don’t understand why he can’t help us because of her.”
What was worse, this time these voices sounded somehow familiar. Great. I was making friends with these figments of my brain-damaged imagination.
“I mean, first Alona disappears without so much as a word,” she continued.
My eyes snapped open. I still couldn’t see anything, but the voices sounded like they were coming from the foot of my bed.
“Then Will gets in his head that this girl is more important than helping us move on to the light. This thing with Claire and Todd is not going to last forever. I hope he knows that.”
“Liesel?” I asked incredulously, pushing myself up into a sitting position.
A shocked silence filled the room and held for a full second.
“She can see us? Wait, you can see us?” Her voice moved closer, and I instinctively moved back.
“No,” I admitted. “But I can hear you.”
“You’re another ghost-talker?” She asked in disbelief. “Just like Will?”
I opened my mouth to explain who I was, but then stopped. If I told them I was Alona and I’d managed to take over a body, word would spread and quickly. Would there be hundreds of ghosts lined up at the hospital to try this out on the next poor, unsuspecting coma patient? I wasn’t sure it would work since I didn’t entirely understand why it had worked for me. But neither did I like the idea of them trying.
“Yeah, I guess,” I managed to say.
“How did you know my name?” Liesel demanded.
“Why can’t you see us?” Eric asked.
I answered the easier question, Eric’s, first, hoping they might take my answer for both. “I have no idea,” I admitted. In theory, I shouldn’t have been able to see or hear them, but as a ghost, I’d been able to do both easily. Maybe being able to hear them was just some kind of side effect from the merging of Lily and me.
“Okay, so listen, I have this friend Claire,” Liesel began.
I groaned inwardly, imagining yet another recitation of the sordid tale of Liesel, Eric, and Claire.
A light tapping sounded at the far window.
I looked over to see Will, his hands cupped to the glass to peer inside. My heart did somersaults in my chest. He was here! He couldn’t be too angry at me, then, could he?
“Quick, move!” Liesel ordered Eric. “If he sees us here, he’ll kill us all over again.”
I didn’t hear anything more, and then the faint sound of whispering came from the hall beyond my room. Clearly, they’d fled for the moment.
I pulled the covers off myself, fumbling with them a little and grateful I’d stayed dressed in Lily’s best jeans and T-shirt, which wasn’t saying much, and started for the window. The moment Will saw me, his face relaxed and he smiled, an event so rare that it stopped me in my tracks and made my pulse accelerate.
No, he wasn’t angry at all, it seemed. Of course, that might end up being the least of our problems. How did we go about this? We were friends still? More? And were we friends as Alona and Will? Or as Lily and Will? Would he ever be able to see me for who I was, when I looked like someone else?
Just thinking about it made my head, and heart, hurt.
20
Will
Lily — well, Alona, really, I guess — came to the window slowly, limping as she walked and her hands out at her sides as if to catch herself if she started to fall.
She struggled to raise the window one-handed, hanging on to the sill with her other hand for balance. I wanted to help, but the screen was down so I couldn’t reach it. Plus, I could read a very familiar stubbornness on her face, though it was not an expression I was accustomed to seeing on this particular face.
She finally managed to shove the window up and prop her hand under it to keep it from falling.
“Hi,” I said, feeling awkward and shy suddenly, like this wasn’t the girl I’d been making out with in the bushes just a few days ago. I mean, it was, but it also wasn’t.
“Hi,” she said back, in an equally uncomfortable tone. Her gaze darted everywhere but my face.
I hesitated. “I guess I just wanted to be sure that you’re okay after everything that happened with the Order and—”
“Liesel and Eric are here,” she said brightly in warning. “They’re asking for my help.”
“What?” I asked, confused.
Liesel burst in from the hallway with Eric at her heels. “You weren’t supposed to tell him!” she protested. “We just came to see who was taking up all of your time instead of us,” Liesel said to me with a pout. “And then it turns out she’s a ghost-talker like you.”
I stared at Lily/Alona.
“I can hear them, but I can’t see them,” she said to me in an undertone.
But that shouldn’t have been possible. Lily had never been able to see or hear ghosts before, nor had Alona when she was alive, I was fairly certain. Then again, Lily had almost died while Alona was merged with her. Who knew what the combination of a near-death experience and a ghost living inside of you would do?
“So, now that there’s two of you, you can really step it up.” Liesel smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. “I’m thinking that if we talk with Claire tomorrow—”
I sighed. “Eric, man, you’ve got to speak up.”
He glared at me. “Shut up, Will.”
Alona/Lily looked intrigued.
“What does Eric have to do with any of this?” Liesel asked, sounding confused.
“In a word? Everything,” I said.
Eric’s face was turning red, and he shoved his hair back from his eyes. “You said I could pick my moment,” he said to me.
“Dude, you’ve had more than thirty years,” I said. “That’s a lot of moments.”
“Oh,” Alona/Lily said suddenly. “He’s in love with Liesel.”
Clearly, this merging had not affected
Alona’s mad observation skills. I’d had to have Eric tell me, but she’d pieced it together on her own.
“What?” Liesel shrieked, staring at Eric as if she’d never seen him before.
Eric looked around like he was desperate for escape, but I nodded at him, encouraging.
He coughed, cleared his throat, and then stuffed his hands in the pockets of his powder-blue tux pants. “So, yeah.” He swallowed hard. “I’m in love with you, Liesel. I have been since the day we died.” He paused, shifting his weight nervously. “Actually, before that even,” he added, stammering a little.
“I know that you feel guilty, like we betrayed Claire,” he said. “But the truth is, I never felt that way about her. Not ever.” He reached out and took her hand, turning her to face him. “I swear, I didn’t even know she liked me until after…well, after.” He blushed.
“So, what I’m trying to say is,” he continued, “you might have other reasons for staying here in the in-between, but I stayed, and am staying, because of you.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t see Liesel’s expression with her back to me, but it sounded like she was crying. “I love you, too,” she said, sniffling. “I just felt so bad because I thought you and Claire—”
“No, never. It’s always been you.”
Then they were kissing each other, with very enthusiastic amounts of tongue, I couldn’t help noticing.
I grimaced and looked away.
“What are they doing?” Alona/Lily whispered.
“Slobbering on each other, mostly.”
She crinkled up her nose in disgust and rolled her eyes at me, which made me laugh. She was still Alona, though maybe a slightly different version. Alona 2.0 or something.
I felt the light before I saw it, the warmth that was somehow…more than anything. It came from above, moving like liquid sunshine, bringing with it that feeling of some unknowable knot on your insides finally relaxing.
It enveloped Liesel and Eric as they were kissing. They didn’t even seem to notice.
Alona/Lily turned slightly to stare in their general direction with undisguised longing and envy. “It’s here, isn’t it? The light?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah,” I said, startled. “You can see it?”
She shook her head. “I can feel it, sort of. Just a change in the room. A warmth.” A tear rolled down her cheek, but I wasn’t sure if she noticed.
The light grew stronger then, the two of them becoming the blindingly bright center until it was so intense, I had to look away.
Then the light began to fade, taking Liesel and Eric with it.
I blinked rapidly, a bright after image of the two of them temporarily burned into my vision.
“You okay?” I asked.
She nodded and wiped her face with her hand.
“We’ll find a way to fix this,” I said, striving to sound confident. “A way for you to go on to the light if you want, and for Lily to stay and still be okay.”
She didn’t look so sure about that, and to be honest, neither was I.
“In the meantime, though, I have something for you.” I bent down and picked up the shoe box I’d brought over.
With a small amount of struggle, she managed to raise the screen.
I handed the box in to her, my fingers brushing hers in the process, and an odd, almost electric, jolt shot through me. It made me want to wrap her hand in mine and hold on. But I resisted.
She looked at the shoe box and then me. “Those are men’s shoes,” she pointed out. “And if this picture is accurate, they’re ugly, too. I mean, tassles, really?”
Ah, some things never change.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the thought,” she added quickly, though it was clear any thought that involved bringing her ugly men’s shoes was really the exact opposite of appreciated.
I sighed. “Just open it, will you?”
“You’re going to have to take these back to the store,” she said, as she removed the lid. “I’d be too embarrassed to be seen with them.”
Then she looked down and saw what was inside. Her eyes widened.
“I couldn’t get everything,” I said quickly. But among other things, I’d found some photographs, a spreadsheet that seemed to be about clothing, some concert stubs, and a tiny scrap of fabric, now stained with soda, that I thought might be her Homecoming Queen sash souvenir. “There might even be more in the bags I managed to grab, but I wasn’t sure what was important and—”
She clutched the box to her chest and threw her free arm around my neck. She was crying again, harder than before, and it shook her body.
I found myself pulled down toward her, my nose pressed into the soft skin of her neck. She smelled of flowers and vanilla, a fresh sweet scent that was neither Alona nor Lily, but some combination of the two that resulted in something — and possibly someone — new. I wrapped my arms around as much of her as I could reach. The angle was odd with her lower to the ground than I was.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, in a tear-thickened voice.
I touched her shiny brown hair, smoothed it down. It was not Alona’s, not the same at all, but it felt good, right somehow, too. “You’re welcome.” I hesitated. “I don’t know what to call you. I mean, I know who you are, but I can’t go around calling you by your real name and—”
She nodded and released me, backing up a step and wiping her face. “I’ve got them calling me Ally. It sounds closeenough to L. E., and apparently Elizabeth is Lily’s middle name, so that works out okay. And right now, they’re happy enough to call me anything I want.” She smiled sadly.
I touched her cheek, my fingers drawn irresistibly to her scar, a symbol of the event that had seemingly kicked all of this into motion, long before we ever knew it was anything more than a single tragic moment in time, unrelated and unconnected to anything before or after it.
She turned away from me slightly, letting her hair slide forward to hide her face. But some impulse led my hand forward to tuck her hair behind her ear again and then to duck in further and press a kiss against her scarred cheek. The skin was slightly raised there but otherwise warm and smooth and tasting of salt from her tears.
Her eyes were wide and brown, but the surprise in them was all Alona. Of course, if she hated imperfections in others, she’d never tolerate them in herself, even a temporary loaner version. “Thank you for saving her,” I said. “And forsaving you.”
She looked away. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” I said firmly. “It’s going to be okay.”
She looked to me, seeking certainty in my expression, I think. But then her gaze dropped to my mouth, and in that second, I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her. But I resisted. It wasn’t right. Not yet.
“Ally, honey, are you up? I thought you were resting,” Mrs. Turner’s voice drifted toward me.
“It’s not going to be okay if she catches you down here,” she hissed, looking back over her shoulder at the door. “You better go.”
“Since when do you care about what a parent thinks?” I asked.
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Since they started caring about me, I guess.”
Interesting. One more unexpected change in her. “I’m coming back tomorrow,” I warned. “And every day after that, until they let me see you.”
She smiled then, a wicked sparkle in her eyes, shades of her former self. “Nice. I like a little desperation in a guy. It builds character.”
Good thing. Because I had the feeling by the time this was all over and done with, I’d probably have character — desperation — to spare.
But I wasn’t going to worry about that now. I helped her lower the screen and the window, our fingers brushing once more with that same heat as before, and then I left before Mrs. Turner could catch me. I needed to make a good impression tomorrow, the next day, and for however long after that it took to get and keep Alona…Ally in my life. It just wasn’t the same without her.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
>
Thanks to: my editor, Christian Trimmer, for seeing this book in the chaos that was the previous draft and helping me find it. You are awesome, and I’m so very grateful to be working with you. Everyone at Hyperion for all the hard work you do. My agent, Laura Bradford, for always being so calm and confident. Linnea Sinclair for critiquing this book on a crazy schedule and continually providing much-needed sanity and wisdom. My first readers — Ed and Debbie Brown, Becky Douthitt, and my fabulous sister, Susan Barnes. Ryan Turner for helping me figure out Will’s college fate. Age and Dana Tabion for listening, encouraging, and providing the world’s best mashed potatoes. My in-laws, Sue and Dale, for their unwavering support. My husband, Greg, for loving me even on the days when the writing is not going well and I’m impossible to live with.
And finally, thank you to everyone who e-mailed, Face-booked (yes, that’s a word!), or tweeted to say how much you love Will and Alona. I so appreciate that. You guys rock!
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