“Yeah, but it kind of feels weird, when you were doing it. I can see you but you’re kind of faded. Is it an ex-ghost special ability thing?”
“I really don’t know, Joey. I have never been an ex-ghost before, so this is all new territory for me.” He paused and looking thoughtfully at the ceiling.
“Maybe Miss Violet will know,” I pondered.
“Hmm, yeah, about that. I knew you’d say this. But, maybe she doesn’t have to know. Well, at least not right away. We’ll tell her later, okay?”
“Huh. All right, I suppose,” I said, standing up and walking to the door.
That boy sure liked having secrets!
“I’ll go finish packing, then. I still gotta go to school tomorrow, with or without your fading skill there. Let me know if you develop any more ‘special’ abilities any time soon.”
I was really glad his “thing” didn’t work on me. Otherwise I would be constantly on my guard, thinking he was playing tricks on me too!
Sunday started as gloomy and clouded as my mood. I knew I should feel excited about going to my new school, and that Tristan would be joining me soon, on the next weekend, but somehow I couldn’t manage to feel happy about it.
And the crappy day wasn’t helping either. There was a soft annoying rain falling on and off all day, which left everything damp, humid and freezing cold. The sky was filled with gray, ugly clouds and the streets with murky puddles of water.
I stood there at the bus platform, watching the driver stuff my luggage into the bag compartment.
“Are you sure you don’t mind going to your new school by bus all alone, honey?” my mom asked, all worried and guilty. The mechanic was holding her car hostage, apparently, and he would only release it on Tuesday. For a heavy ransom. The solution to my problem: bus transportation.
“It’s fine, Mom. I already told you that like a million times. Don’t worry, I know how to take a bus. It’s not rocket science, you know.”
“I know, I know, honey, but it’s your first day! At your new school! I wanted so much to be there with you!” she said, teary-eyed. Oh, dear. There went the water works.
“Mom, come on! Please, please, don’t start crying here!” I whispered, looking frantically around me. Tristan was chuckling behind her back.
“You laugh all you want now, pal, she’ll do the same with you too, you know?” I warned him. He stopped in mid-chuckle and kept a straight face then.
“Okay, Mom! I gotta go now, the bus is leaving. I’ll see you guys next weekend, right?” I said, hugging my mom.
“Yeah, that damn mechanic better have my car fixed by then, or I’ll give him hell! We’ll be there at the weekend and you can show me your new school, your new room, your room-mates!” She squealed in excitement.
“All right, all right, settle down,” I said, patting her shoulder and turning to Tristan.
He had both hands inside his pockets, his usual stance when he was nervous, as I’d learned to recognize by now. He glanced sideways at my mom. I guess he was embarrassed to say or do something in front of her. The fact that she was looking at us with googly eyes wasn’t helping either.
“Uh … well, have a safe trip to your school, Joe. I’ll see you soon,” he said, extending his hand to me formally.
I took his hand, a little embarrassed myself. “Thanks, Tristan. I’ll see you soon.”
We shared a brief handshake and I blushed at my mom watching us like a hawk. She was grinning like a mad woman, too. Well, that was … awkward. I got on the bus after that and watched through the window while my mom wiped tears from her eyes. She was leaning on Tristan’s arm for support, and he stood still by her side, smiling shyly as I waved goodbye.
I leaned back in my seat, regretting my awkward handshake with Tristan. I wished I had hugged him. Now it was too late for that.
I stared at the road ahead of me. Sagan Boarding School, here I come.
Chapter Eleven
A Light at the End of the Tunnel
I watched the murky road and heavy clouds in the sky for the whole two-hour trip to school. It wasn’t raining any more, but everything still seemed damp and soaking wet. I felt a little queasy inside, my anxiety holding my stomach in a tight grip.
What would this new school be like?
I knew it was a highly regarded school for wealthy people, and I was kind of worried I wouldn’t fit in there, wouldn’t find any friends, either. That was worrying me. A lot.
I hated dealing with high-maintenance, spoiled rich brats! I hoped the school wouldn’t be filled with them. What was I thinking, of course it would! And now it was too late to go back. I’d have to suck it up and endure a whole year of spoiled brats!
I was so engrossed by my grim thoughts that I didn’t notice the bus had stopped. Before I could glance outside, the driver called out my name.
I lifted my hand in confusion as he made a sign for me to follow him. I grabbed my backpack and stepped off the bus with a puzzled face.
There was a huge pothole in the road, with soft red mud gushing out. A big limo had tried to pass through it and got stuck in the mud. The wheels screeched and rolled, but the car remained in the same spot, blocking the road. I turned to look at the bus driver by my side.
“Hey there, miss, “he said, taking another look at the road. “Seems we have ourselves a problem here. I’ve been telling people about this hole in the road for weeks and nobody did anything. Now look at it!” He pointed at the mess of mud ahead of us.
I looked at the limo and then at the bus. “The bus won’t be able to pass,” I stated.
“Sorry, miss.” He nodded an affirmative. “But your school’s just there.” He pointed beyond the limo to the horizon, where I could see the big gray stone walls of Sagan Boarding School looming. It would take only a few minutes to walk there.
“Okay, then. I’ll walk. Can you get my luggage, please, sir?” I asked politely, and the man nodded, relieved that I wasn’t going to hold up the rest of his passengers, and went to fetch my things.
While I was waiting, a tall, blonde, Barbie-looking girl stepped out from the limo. She approached me slowly, head raised high like she owned the damn road. I eyed her suspiciously. She was well groomed with bouncy curls, high heels and perfect posture, dressed to kill in an impeccably tailored haute couture dress and coat.
Definitely a spoiled brat. Definitely filthy rich.
She was carrying an expensive-looking purse over her slim shoulder.
“Are you heading for Sagan as well?” she asked in an imperative tone. No, she didn’t ask. She demanded to know.
“Yes,” I answered plainly. I wondered idly why she wasn’t at school already. Maybe she’d had important shopping to do!
The bus driver returned with my suitcase. I grabbed it and thanked him for his assistance. He walked quickly back to the bus and was soon on his way.
“Are you walking to school?” Barbie Girl asked, surprised.
“Do you see another way of getting there?” I replied, getting a little annoyed. She was momentarily taken aback by my sharpness. I wasn’t always that rude to people I didn’t know, but something about the girl’s tone bugged me.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked again, interest glinting in her eyes.
“No.”
“I am Tiffany Worthington the Third,” she intoned, as if giving her academic credentials.
“Good for you,” I said, grabbing the handle of my suitcase. It was on wheels so I could easily pull it to the school. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go do this amazing thing called walking,” I said in a mocking tone.
Barbie Girl – sorry, Tiffany-the-freaking-Third – was definitely surprised now by my sarcastic response. She looked mystified for a second, but then quickly regained her composure. “I suppose I can walk up there too,” she said, mostly to herself. “Here, take this.” She pushed her heavy, expensive purse into my arms.
I held the bag in wonderment. “Wait! What?” I barked at her.
“I’ll let you carry that for me. How long do you think it’ll take for us to walk up there?” she asked, turning her frowny face to the school, calculating the long miles of torture she was about to endure.
That was it! I was now officially pissed off. Who the hell did this girl think she was?
“For me, only a few minutes. For you, with those high heels of yours, maybe half an hour. Good luck with that,” I said through clenched teeth and shoved the bag back into her hands – hard. “And thanks for the offer, but you can carry the bag your damn self.”
And with that I stormed off. The nerve of that girl! Let ME carry HER bag. Pft! Yeah, like that was going to happen. When hell freezes over!
I dragged my case without looking back, taking extra care not to slip on the muddy patches of the road. After a few minutes, I started to feel less angry; a few minutes more and I almost forgot about annoying Barbie Girl. The school buildings were getting closer, and the walk in the cold air was invigorating.
I was starting to enjoy the view when I heard the crunching sound of wheels on asphalt. I looked back and saw that the limo had managed to get unstuck and was now driving up the road, in my direction. Just great! She was going to rub it in my face now. If I had just sucked it up and carried her purse, I’d have a ride to the school now. I shook my head. I have my pride. I would rather walk a million miles on foot than suck up to Barbie-the-Third!
The limo accelerated and passed right through a puddle in front of me, splashing me all over with murky mud. What the hell? I stood still, frozen, shocked and disgusted, red mud dripping from all my clothes. Did she get her driver to do that on purpose? The little bitc—
Okay. Calm down, Joey. Breathe. That’s it. In and out. Continue walking. You cannot start your first day at school with a spot of cold-blooded murder.
I clenched my jaw tight and kept walking, a dark cloud of evil thoughts thundering over my head.
After about five minutes, I reached the school’s entrance. A large bronze sign half-covered the huge oak front doors. Sagan Boarding School. And parked right in front was the limo with Barbie Girl standing next to it, surrounded by an entourage of other Barbie-looking girls. I guessed this was the bitch-welcoming-squad from hell.
I walked up to the front doors, shooting daggers from my eyes, but Barbie-Girl-the-Third stepped in my way, blocking my passage.
I looked sharply at her. For a split second I saw surprise and pity flashing in her eyes, but it passed as fast as I saw it, to be replaced by something else. I was too pissed off to try to decipher anything. There was nothing inside that girl’s mind that interested me anyway.
“Oh, my. Look at you. I guess you should’ve been nicer to me back there on the road, dontcha think?” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Her squad sneered along with her, glaring at me with contempt. “I guess I can let you try it one more time. Here’s my purse. Why don’t you carry that to my room upstairs? It’s on the third floor, honey,” she said, pushing her purse into my arms for the second time.
I looked down at her purse, and then up to her face. A warm smile spread across my lips, and joy glinted in my eyes. She seemed pleased with my change in attitude. So I grabbed her purse carefully with both hands, and dropped right in the middle of a big, stinky, deep puddle of mud at my feet, grinning like the devil all the time.
I heard gasps of indignation and outrage from her loyal crew, and a little squeal from herself. Boy, that was so worth it. I clapped my hands at a job well done, grabbed my case again and climbed the steps to the front doors, without looking back and with no regret in my heart.
I walked through the hall with people staring and whispering behind my back, but I didn’t care any more. I must’ve been quite a sight! Dripping wet with mud, and too angry to care. This was turning out to be the worst first day at school ever! I grabbed a poor kid and growled at him, asking for directions to the secretary’s office. After a while, I managed to find it. A small, fat, grumpy old lady was sitting behind her desk, scribbling on something. She didn’t even bother to stop or to look at me. What was it with this school and rude people?
“Yes, dear?” she said in a bored tone.
“I need my room number,” I growled at her. “I’m a late enrollment for the second semester.”
“Name, dear?” she asked, still not looking at me.
“Joe Gray.”
She typed fast on her keyboard, squinting at the computer screen, then grabbed a Post-it note and scribbled a number on it.
“There you go, dear, Room 101, Block B.”
I yanked the paper out of her hand and stormed out. I didn’t care if I was being rude any more. No one in this school deserved my niceness! I grabbed a few more kids on the way, and directions were promptly handed to me. Nobody wanted to mess with the crazy mud-all-over girl. Soon I was standing in front of the door to my room. Now I had to deal with my obnoxious roommates. They would probably be another bunch of spoiled Barbie girls. I was so doomed in this place! I pushed open the door to see a blond boy reclining lazily on a bed right in front of the door. He was reading a book but looked up, startled by my sudden entrance into the room.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I grunted.
He looked me up and down, knitting his eyebrows at the ghastly view displayed in front of him.
“I’m reading,” he said, flapping the book in his hand for showy effect.
I pursed my lips in frustration. “I mean, what are you doing here in this room? You do know this is the girls’ dormitory, right?” I asked, losing my patience now.
“I’m sorry, but this is the boys’ dormitory. Block B. B is for Boys. And this is MY room,” he declared, resting his book on the bed and giving me another inquisitive look.
“This is Room 101, Block B?” I said, hesitating a little now.
“Yep.”
“B is for b-boy?”
“Yep.”
Crap. Boys’ dormitory. Of course. The curse of the name. They thought I was a boy! Joe Gray. A boy. Crap. Crap. Crap!
“Crap,” I said, stepping into the room and slamming the door behind me.
He looked a little shocked as I dragged my suitcase to what I assumed to be the bathroom door, muttering, “That’s just freaking great” on the way in. And then I slammed the bathroom door with a loud thud and locked it with a loud click.
I would deal with this situation later. Now what I needed was to get clean and change my muddy clothes. After twenty minutes under a hot shower, I was feeling loads better and ready to deal with Blond Dude outside. I got dressed in baggy jeans and a black sweater, and unlocked the door, stepping outside cautiously.
The boy was still leaning back on his bed, legs and arms crossed casually, the book abandoned. Now that I was calmer, I could take a better look at him. He was wearing faded blue jeans, white T-shirt and white socks. His sneakers were scattered on the floor. There were a lot of scrambled pieces of papers strewn across his bed that I hadn’t noticed when I entered the room. His bright blond hair was meticulously messed up in a spiked, pointy hairstyle. It was hard to describe it, but it looked good on him. He was eyeing me again, with curious hazel eyes. I decided it was a good time to apologize for my earlier angry stampede.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that entrance. I’m having a really crappy day, as you might have noticed. I guess they gave me this room by mistake, and I’m going to try and fix it now,” I said apologetically.
A little smile showed at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t bother. All the rooms are taken. School’s already started; nobody will want to change rooms now. You can leave a note with the secretary; maybe there’s still an open spot somewhere in the girls’ dorms. But I guess you’re stuck here for now until they solve this problem. I’ll be your roomie, then. I’m Seth. Nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand to me.
“Joe. Joe Gray,” I said, shaking his hand and preparing myself for the script line.
“But … Joe is …”
“A boy’s name
. Yeah.” I flopped onto the bed next to him. “Hence the room mix-up. They must have muddled up my birth certificate and registration papers.”
He scratched his head, messing up his blond hair. He looked so cute doing it. “I guess you must get that a lot, right?” he said, embarrassed.
“Just … always. Never failed me. Not once in my life,” I muttered, looking around the room. There were two other beds. One looked kind of broken. I guessed the other would be mine, then.
“So, Joe, would you mind telling me the tale of your muddy clothes? That was quite a sight!” he said, chuckling. I thought he was making fun of me, but I saw only genuine curiosity in his eyes. And now that I was closer, I could also see how handsome he was. Thin lips matching a thin nose, and hazel eyes that sparkled with honesty. The total effect made you instantly trust him.
Maybe I shouldn’t try to switch rooms after all, I thought. He seemed like a pretty decent guy; rooming with him might not be so bad. It was a large room and there was a decent-sized bathroom I could change in, for modesty’s sake. And if I did switch rooms, I could easily end up with one of those horrible Barbie girls from the Tiffany Squad. That idea gave me shivers.
I sat cross-legged on my bed and told Seth all about my first encounter with Tiffany the Third, the walk up to the school, the big mud splash, the dropping of her purse in the puddle of stinky mud. That earned me a round of loud laughter from him. His laughter was so free and fun that I started giggling myself.
“Come on! Did you seriously do that? To Tiffany? Man, you have some balls, I tell you that!” he exclaimed.
“How come?”
“Well, you do know she’s like the richest person in this entire school, and that is not an easy feat cos there’s some seriously loaded people here. She owns like half the state in properties and business enterprises. Well, her parents do. Nobody here dares to contradict her, for fear she might retaliate. And when a Worthington retaliates, you better not be around!” he said, passing his hand over his blond head. “She’s like our own private Paris Hilton. She’s used to people groveling before her all the time.”
The Lost Boys Page 9
