by Wende Dikec
“Bad-boy hot? If this whole situation weren’t so terrible, I’d find that hilarious,” said Nick. “Lily thinks I’m hot. Sound the alarm.”
I scowled at him. “I meant she would think you were hot. Not that I think you are hot. I’m not into dead guys.”
“You’re not into any guys. That is why you are so Lily white and pure.” He gave me a nasty little smile.
“Stop calling me that,” I said.
Zoe whistled loudly, getting our attention. “Excuse me, but it is really freaky to hear you argue with yourself. I’m starting to understand how other people must feel when they see me talking to ghosts.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Talking to a very annoying and hard headed ghost who keeps calling me Lily White and making fun of me.” Nick seemed to thrive on getting under my skin, but I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips.
“Lily White? That’s hilarious.” Zoe laughed as she rubbed her face with her hands, somehow managing not to smear any of her makeup while doing so, which I thought was remarkable. She had on more eyeliner than I wore in a month.
“Can we move on? Please?”
“Fine,” she said, still smiling a bit about the Lily White thing. “You call the ghosts ‘blobs.’ What do they look like to you?”
“Blobs,” I said, and she gave me a pained expression. I rolled my eyes. “They look like fuzzy black amoebas. About the size of a grapefruit, they slide and float all over the place, doing everything they can to distract and annoy me. Kind of like you.” I gave Nick a pointed look.
“Okay, so what does Nick look like?” she asked. “Details would help.”
I turned to him, staring at him long and hard and trying to describe him to Zoe as best I could. “He looks like a person, but fuzzy around the edges. He has dark hair that keeps falling over his forehead and brown eyes, the color of rich chocolate. He’s muscular, but not in a weightlifter or football player kind of way. He’s built more like...a panther, sleek and powerful. I probably think of a panther when I see him because he wears black all the time. It must be what he died in. Oh, and he has a tattoo that peeks out just under the sleeve on his right arm”
Zoe and Nick both stared at me in shock.
“What?” I asked.
“Are you describing a ghost, or writing a smut book?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My cheeks began to burn, and I couldn’t even look at Nick. Yes, I’d gone a bit overboard in my description of him, but she’d asked for details. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. He was attractive, but I never would have dated a boy like Nick even if he were alive. Boys like that meant trouble and unhappy parents. I couldn’t deal with either.
“Oh, my. She really is Lily White,” said Zoe with a sad shake of her head, making Nick laugh. “Look, I’ll explain it to you. Bad boy or not, dead or not, you have a thing for this Nick guy.”
I opened my mouth to protest, and she held up a hand to stop me. “Save it. We have other more important things to deal with. First of all, the ghost refusing to listen to my good advice...” She shot an angry look at the blob floating around the ceiling. It didn’t seem to be bothered in the least. It swooped down and gave her what looked like a peck on the cheek.
“Silly ghost,” she said, trying not to smile as she shooed the blob away. “And then we have Nick, the object of your sexual desire.”
“Zoe, you really have the wrong idea,” I stuttered.
I looked at Nick, who now watched me very closely with those dark chocolate eyes. My cheeks got so hot an egg could have fried on them.
“Yeah, whatever,” she said with a yawn. “I can’t help you with him. He isn’t a ghost.”
Nick sat up and smacked a hand on the table, which was kind of odd since it made no sound. “See. I told you I’m not dead.”
“Shut up,” I hissed. “You’re dead. Be quiet.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Look at you. Young love. So adorable. Except the arguing part makes you look like a lunatic since no one else can see Nick. No wonder everyone at school thinks you’re a druggie.”
I put my face in my hands as Nick laughed his head off, enjoying this way too much. “You? On drugs?”
“Yes. It’s very funny. A total riot. I had to see the guidance counselor and submit to voluntary drug testing today. Do you know what the best part is?” I looked right at Zoe and gave her a tight little smile. “They think you are my supplier.”
That stopped her laughter instantly, but Nick still laughed so hard he held his stomach and rocked back and forth. I tried to kick him, but of course my foot went right through him.
“They think I’m selling drugs? Oh, that’s precious. Just because I wear black and hang out at The Zone on weekends...” she began. I jumped to my feet so quickly it startled both her and Nick.
“The Zone?” I looked at Nick and comprehension dawned on his face. “Nick goes to The Zone. Does that tell you anything?”
“Uh, he likes good music?”
I groaned in frustration. “Maybe you know him. He also mentioned someone named Bambi.”
Nick shrugged, rubbing his head. “I know I said that, but I can’t remember why. It’s all very fuzzy now.”
I gave Nick a worried frown. He looked scared. “Maybe Zoe can help.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know anyone named Bambi. What’s Nick’s last name?”
I turned to ask him, and stopped when I saw his face. He looked terrified. He stumbled backward a few steps and then slid slowly to the floor. I knelt down next to him.
“Are you okay?”
He pulled his knees to his chest. “I don’t know my last name.”
“What do you mean?” The expression on his face frightened me.
“I can’t remember... It’s all one big blank.”
Zoe joined us on the floor. “I’m not sitting on him, am I?”
I shook my head and pointed to where Nick had propped himself up against the wall. “He’s here.”
“What’s wrong?” asked Zoe. All she could see was an empty patch of my mom’s Oriental rug, but she could tell something bad had happened.
“He can’t remember anything,” I whispered to her.
“I can hear you, dummy. I’m sitting right here.”
I considered the fact that Nick could still be snarky a good sign. Finding out you were a ghost and forgetting your entire identity would be a lot to deal with.
“Tell him we’ll find a way to help him,” said Zoe.
I started to tell him, but he stopped me. “I can hear her, too, Lily. You only have to translate this conversation one way, okay?”
I nodded and turned to Zoe. “He can hear you.”
She winced. “Sorry. I forgot. So this is where we make a plan.”
Nick and I both stared at her blankly. She couldn’t see Nick, but she got the idea from me.
“Okay. This is where I make a plan.” She tapped a painted black nail against her chin. That color really suited her. On me, it would have looked like I’d been infected with a zombie virus. I sat quietly next to Nick, waiting.
“Well, first of all, kids, I hate to tell you this, but we have more problems than one difficult spirit and your boyfriend, the mysterious Nick.”
I started to protest again, but she stopped me by holding up one pale hand and scowling at me. She had a ring with a skull on it. She really embraced this whole Goth Queen of the Dead thing.
“What other problems do we have, Zoe?” I tried to be patient, but I clenched my hands tightly in my lap. Nick kept staring at me, making me extremely uncomfortable. I wished I’d never said he eyes looked like chocolate.
Zoe sighed. “When I talked to the ghosts, they acted scared. They said something bad had tried to come through with them.”
“Come through?” I asked.
“The ghosts crossed over to this side through some kind of portal, and that portal is still open. We need to get this last little ghost back and shu
t it before something awful happens.” The blob floated around the room, seemingly oblivious to the danger its very presence in the world of the living created.
I sat very still. “Like what?”
Zoe shrugged. “I don’t know, but if it scared a bunch of ghosts, it must be pretty nasty.”
“What can we do?” I tried to give Nick a reassuring look and failed miserably.
Zoe pursed her lips, her blue eyes focused on a spot on the ceiling before she spoke. “I think I have it,” she said, and Nick and I both leaned forward eagerly. “First, you need to go back to Mr. Fu Man Chu and get more info from his book.”
“Mr. Wan?” I asked. “My weekly appointment isn’t until Saturday, but I’ll go tomorrow after school. Is that soon enough?”
“Yes. He might have some ideas about old Nick here. It’s possible he knows a better way to get the last ghost to leave. And while you’re doing that, I’m going to see if I can find anything online about missing or dead boys named Nick in the area, but we would have heard about something like this by now if it had been in the news.”
“What else?”
Zoe grimaced as if she was in pain. “I hate to say it, but I think you and I need to make a little trip to The Zone on Friday night for the Under Twenty One Party. If Nick hung out there, someone might remember him. That could help a lot.”
“Please remind her I’m not dead.” Nick’s face was pale. “It’s important.”
Zoe sighed when I told her. “I don’t think you’re dead. I can’t see you or feel you at all. But that doesn’t explain what’s going on.”
She stood up, blew out the candle, and stretched. All the ghost wrangling must have worn her out. She yawned as I walked her to the door.
“Oh, and another thing. We need to find a clairvoyant. That would help us with both of our problems.”
“A clairvoyant?”
Zoe paused at the doorway. “Someone with a sixth sense, a person who can tell when ghosts are around. A clairvoyant might be able to help me get the last ghost to behave. At least they would give me a little more power. Do you know anyone?”
I thought of Josh by the lake and how he’d felt the blobs on his body. None of my friends had felt them. There had to be something special about Josh, besides his biceps and winning personality.
“Actually, maybe I do.”
“You are just full of surprises, Lily White,” she said, as she pulled on a red helmet covered in black skulls, hopped onto her motorcycle, and rode away. For a second I thought I saw a dark shape following her, sliding down the road after her. I blinked and it was gone, dissolving into the shadows like it had never been there at all.
“A beautiful bird is the only kind we cage.”
Chinese Proverb
Chapter Seven
As soon as she left, I pulled out my laptop and did an extensive search. No one named Nick had gone missing, turned up dead, or made the news at all. I had no last name to go on, no town, and no additional information. I shut my laptop and stared up at the ceiling.
“This is so frustrating. If you aren’t dead, what are you?”
He didn’t have any answers for me. He sat with his face in his hands. The little blob attempted to cheer him up by playing a ghostly form of peek-a-boo. Nick couldn’t see it, so it wasn’t really working.
He watched me as I straightened up before bed. I felt awkward around him after my detailed and glowing description of his physical attributes, but tried to pretend it had never happened. The remaining blob trailed after him like a little, furry, otherworldly puppy, and, for once, I was kind of glad for the company. I didn’t want to be alone with Nick.
I stole a glance at him, and he snuck a look at me, but neither of us spoke. He shadowed me, my own hunky, ghostly sidekick, as I put away the candle and checked to make sure everything was back in place. Clarice, our housekeeper, always spied for my mother and reported to her daily whenever my parents went out of town. She used to stay over when they went away, but that stopped when I turned sixteen and declared if I was old enough to drive, I no longer needed a babysitter. Poor Clarice. She enjoyed sleeping in our guest room and swimming in our pool, the equivalent of the spa for my mother.
Nick followed me up to my room and into my walk-in closet. He looked around in amazement. “You color-code your clothing?”
I bit my lip. “A useful system for organization.”
Nick shook his head. He pointed to a shelf with nothing but rows of hand sanitizer on it. “This is normal?” He raised one dark eyebrow at me.
“There was a sale,” I said with a huff. I grabbed the first pair of pajamas I saw, a two-piece set in white heavy satin with little pearl buttons and my initials embroidered on the right breast pocket.
Nick tried to follow me into the bathroom, but I stopped him. “Don’t you dare,” I huffed, and he stepped back sheepishly.
I used my time in the bathroom to center myself. I didn’t like that Nick had seen my closet. My hands shook, but I knew I could handle this. I needed to get back in control.
I went through my nightly ritual, which always soothed me. I took a long soaking bubble bath and washed and dried my hair. I applied lotion, starting with facial cream (it’s never too early to prevent wrinkles), and then body cream. I slid into my soft pajamas and pulled my hair back with a wide, white satin ribbon. I kept ribbons arranged in order of color in a drawer of the vanity in my bathroom, and I rearranged them just for fun.
“There’s nothing wrong with color-coding,” I muttered to myself.
“Are you almost done?” Nick called from the other side of the door.
“Don’t rush me,” I shouted. I guess I sounded a little harsher than intended. A girl on the edge.
I flossed my teeth several times, rinsed with a whitening mouthwash, and then brushed. Finally, I sat down on the edge of the bathtub and waited, tapping my foot. I had on my favorite white terry cloth bath slippers. They were soft and had some kind of gel insert that made me feel like I walked on air.
“I’m sorry, Lily.” Nick’s voice sounded softer this time. Gentler. Like he meant it.
I put lotion on my hands and admired my manicure. Melancholy Baby looked terrific on me. I took a deep breath, turned around, and slowly opened the door. Nick leaned on the wall right outside the bathroom.
“I shouldn’t have teased you, Lil.”
“It’s okay.” Embarrassed, I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. He now knew what a nut job I actually was.
“There’s nothing wrong with trying to keep things in order,” he said.
I laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. “My parents would disagree. And so would my therapist, but I’m actually a lot better than I used to be.”
“Where are your parents?” Nick wasn’t looking around my neat freak room anymore. He stared right at me. I felt my cheeks go very hot.
“Out of town.”
“And they leave you alone like this?”
“I don’t mind. I like it, in fact.”
Nick tilted his head to one side. “Don’t you think that’s kind of weird?”
“That my parents travel?” I frowned at him. “No. The only weird thing is that I’m talking to a dead guy.”
His dark brows furrowed, and he looked oddly hurt. “Why do you do that?”
“What?”
“Every time I say something or do something that makes you uncomfortable, you toss the dead guy card in my face. It isn’t nice, Lily. I told you I’m not dead, and Zoe agrees with me.”
I took a deep breath. He was right, but I was right too. I called a spade a spade.
“If you aren’t dead, what are you?”
He shook his head, rubbing his hands together. “I don’t know, but we were talking about your parents and their negligence, and you deflected. What’s the story, Lil?”
I loved it when he called me that—not Lily White or the Vestal Virgin or dimwit. When he said Lil, it felt like an endearment, a caress. I shook my head to clear it,
needing to focus. The blob happily flitted around, oblivious to the fact that Nick had thrown me completely off balance once again.
I looked around my room, at my four-poster bed, the shelves full of books, and the closet bursting with clothes. “You call this negligence? I’m spoiled. Cosseted. I have everything I could possibly need or want, and I always have.”
“Except for them,” he said. “Time is the only gift that really matters. Nothing else means anything.”
That stopped me in my tracks. I’d known Nick had brains. He’d proved that in calculus. But I didn’t know he was nice. He couldn’t remember his own name, and he was dead and probably trapped for eternity in some kind of limbo, but he seemed concerned for me. Sincere proved to be a new look for Nick. It suited him.
“They’re very busy people. I don’t begrudge them their own lives.”
“Maybe you should,” he said, getting angry on my account. One of the many new sides of Nick. I’d met sarcastic Nick and tough guy Nick and annoying Nick, but sweet, charming, and concerned Nick? I hadn’t seen those parts of him before and wasn’t prepared to deal with it.
“I like being independent.” Even as I uttered those words, I knew I lied and so did he. I could tell from the expression on his face. His dark eyes filled with pity.
As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Nick happened to be right. I hated sitting down to dinner all by myself at the large, ornate table. I missed having someone to talk to after school. I wanted to see more of my parents, but they chose golf, the spa, and their friends over me. I didn’t complain. I never complained. But sometimes it hurt.
“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business. I can’t even remember my parents.” His voice, filled with such raw pain, made me hurt too.
I studied his face, the square chin, the dark eyes, and the stubborn set to his mouth. He belonged to someone, dead or alive, and I needed to help him figure it out. Maybe that was holding him to this world. Maybe he needed to remember, so that he could move on—and maybe it was my job to help him.
“Why can’t you remember anything?”
