by Micol Ostow
“Gentlemen, what’s the rush? The party’s just getting started, and you have an eternity, after all.”
“You know that girl who can see us? We sorta bailed on her,” Alex explained.
“Basically, we’re late for a gig.” Luke cut to the chase.
“What about my offer?” Caleb asked.
“It’s very cool of you, Mr. Covington, but we’ve got—” Luke started.
“—your own band. I understand. But, boys, if you ever want to come back and fix that little problem with your friend … the Hollywood Ghost Club is always open.”
“We’d love to come back,” Luke gushed.
Caleb grinned. “Music to my ears.”
I winced. I had an idea what was coming, but it was too late—I was powerless to stop it. Luke held out his hand to shake goodbye, and Caleb grabbed him by the wrist, pressing his own wrist to it. Then he did the same to Alex and Reggie while I watched, my stomach filling with lead. They each jumped a little bit when he made contact with them.
He pulled his hand back and the guys turned their wrists over, seeing the initials HGC now seared into their shimmering skin. After a brief sizzle, the brands disappeared.
Caleb winked. “Just a little club stamp.”
“Cool,” Reggie said.
Caleb laughed—to me, it sounded straight-up sinister, like the laugh of a cartoon villain. The boys seemed to pick up on it, but they said goodbye after exchanging a glance. Although Alex’s gaze seemed to linger a bit longer through the crowd. Was he looking for me? Once they were gone, I made my way over to Caleb.
“You never said you were gonna use your stamp,” I said to him. “You know what that’ll do to them.” The guilt felt thick in the back of my throat—the anger, too.
He gave me a withering look. “Of course I do, William. But they’re too powerful. I need them working for me.”
His lips curled into another nasty grin. “And now, they’ll have no choice.”
Whoever said “better late than never” was obviously out of their mind.
I was so upset about the ghosts blowing me off, I didn’t even want to look at them—much less deal with their useless pleas and apologies—when they came bursting into the school gym about three hours too late. Flynn was off raiding the cafeteria and vending machines to get some snacks for us, sustenance for while we cleaned up all Flynn’s DJ equipment and the dance decorations.
“Julie! We’re ready to rock … this dance, which is clearly over,” Reggie said, bursting through the doors to the auditorium, out of breath.
(Which actually seemed weird, when I thought about it—did ghosts breathe?)
“We’re so sorry we bailed on you!” Luke was right behind him.
“Yeah, the night got away from us,” Alex added.
I looked at them, putting my hands on my hips. “Please tell me it had nothing to do with you getting back at Carrie’s dad.”
“Of course not,” Luke said, while the others uttered their own protests.
Their reactions were too quick—it was shady. “Seriously?” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re lying to me.” Like ditching wasn’t bad enough, now they had to add lying to it?
“It was something we had to do,” Alex said, looking stressed. (Then again, when did Alex not look stressed?)
“But we’ll make it up to you,” Luke said, looking me in the eyes. “We’ll play the next school—”
I cut him off. “What? Another dance where you can bail on me and make me look like a fool? Save it. You know what really sucks?” I met Luke’s gaze. “Our songs are good.” Looking at the rest of the guys, I went on. “All three of you know what I’ve been through, and how hard it was for me to play music again. And then you do this?” I felt a pit in my stomach all over again, remembering what it felt like standing on that stage, looking out at that expectant crowd. “Bands don’t do that to each other. Friends don’t do that to each other.” I swallowed. “This was a mistake.”
Luke looked panicked. “You mean this dance, right?”
“No. I mean being in a band with you guys.”
Just saying the words pricked at my heart and made my throat tighten. But I meant it. I had to mean it. It was the only way to keep from getting hurt again.
Before they could say anything else, I turned and fled.
I was still seething the next morning … so much that I missed my alarm and showed up late to school. When I finally got there, it was dance class, which was normally all girls. I tried to slip in unnoticed, but everyone was already step-ball-changing when I walked in.
“Nice of you to join us,” Mrs. Kelly, the teacher, said as I slunk in. “Take your spot.”
I slipped into the empty space next to Flynn. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” I whispered, trying to fall into the rhythm of the routine as smoothly as I could.
“Because after the dance, you said you were never going to show your face at school again,” she answered easily. “And I’m a very literal person.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s those dumb ghosts I’m really mad at. I’d kill them if they weren’t already dead.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” Flynn said. “You can only be so strong when three cute ghosts ask you to join a band. And speaking of cute …” She elbowed me, indicating the classroom door and making me stumble at the barre.
“Right on time, Coach Barron,” Mrs. Kelly was saying. And sure enough, behind Coach Barron was the entire lacrosse team, poised to partner up with me and the rest of my classmates. Which meant—Nick.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me. What are they doing here?” I asked Flynn.
As if she’d heard the question, Mrs. Kelly turned to face our class. “All right, students, Coach Barron and I have decided that his lacrosse team will be part of our class for a few weeks. Many pro athletes use dance to help with coordination and mobility.”
Coach Barron nodded. “So this isn’t about flirting with girls. It’s about making you better so we can actually win a game.” He glared at his players.
“Now, everybody pair up,” Mrs. Kelly said, shooing us along.
Flynn was quickly whisked away. “Don’t leave me!” I called after her, but it was too late.
“Hey.” I recognized the soft, graveled tone of Nick’s voice before I turned around. But then I did turn, and those eyes bore into my soul.
“Hey … you,” I managed, just barely.
He opened his arms out, inviting me to be his dance partner. “What do you say?”
“Well … everyone else is already paired up, so it would be kinda awkward if I said no.” Also, I’ve loved you since we were in kindergarten and you cried when you couldn’t get your glue stick uncapped. “You think you’re ready for this?”
“Sure.” He grinned. “My little sister throws a lot of princess dance parties.”
We started moving around the floor, tentative, but still graceful. “Not bad, Your Majesty,” I said.
“Thanks.” He paused, like he was deciding what to say next. “So,” he started, careful, “last night’s dance …”
Right. That. “Yeah. I’m hoping if I never talk about it, it’ll be like it never happened. It’s that whole tree-falling-in-the-forest thing.”
“You’ll be fine,” Nick said, sounding way more sure of it than I could feel. “You’re tough. You’ve been through way worse.”
I was caught off guard, appreciating that he noticed what I was going through last year. I wouldn’t have expected it.
Then Mrs. Kelly shouted a note to us, and in trying to correct our posture, we both tripped, until we were close enough to kiss each other.
If only …
We pulled apart, awkward. “Sorry,” Nick said. “I’m just not used to dancing like this.”
“Oh, come on—you and Carrie never dance together?” I didn’t know why I said it. I guess some part of me just had to pick at the scab since things were feeling kinda, I don’t know, personal.
“No.” He looked aw
ay. “And we never will. We broke up.”
My mouth dropped open, and I snapped it shut as quickly as I could. “You did?” I asked, trying to sound normal.
“I’m done with the drama. And I don’t know if you know this, but she’s not always the nicest person.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” I said, rolling my eyes. We both laughed, and Nick stumbled again.
“You sure you want to be dance partners?”
“No—I want you,” I blurted. Then I realized what I’d just said. “To be my dance partner, I mean. Here, let’s start over. We’ll get this.”
Start over. It sounded nice. Nick was done with Carrie, which meant that he was maybe free for … other people? And I wanted nothing more than to put the humiliation with the Phantoms behind me.
Right now, dancing in Nick’s arms, starting over sounded okay to me.
“Is this why we’re here?” Alex asked. “To watch people take pictures of their food?”
I shrugged, just as confused as Alex was. So many things about the future made zero sense.
Alex, Reggie, and I were at some hipster café called Eats and Beats that was crazy crowded—mostly with, yes, trendy people taking pictures of their avocado toast. (And when did avocado become such a big thing?)
“It’s fun,” Reggie said with a shrug.
“Well, at least being a ghost has its privileges. I just wrote our names on the open mic playlist for tonight.”
Alex snuck a glance at Reggie. “I’m worried about him. I think he forgot Julie quit the band.”
I rolled my eyes. “And she’s gonna come back as soon as she knows we got this great gig.”
“But let’s not forget, if she doesn’t come back, we do have somewhere else we can play … and eat pizza,” Reggie said.
Luke shook his head. “Dude, I know it was awesome to be seen by Lifers at Caleb’s party, but we have that with Julie. We don’t need him.”
As if on cue, all three of us flickered, like a little jolt of electricity hit us, or we were a radio station that suddenly got tuned out.
“Ow!” Alex said. “That’s the same thing that happened when Caleb stamped our wrists.”
He was right—that feeling was just like the sizzle I felt when Caleb stamped us. I hadn’t thought much about it last night. But the feeling was kinda hard to ignore right now.
“Feels like that time I was fixing my amp in the rain,” Reggie said, and Alex and I nodded in agreement. It hurt. And it felt like it came out of nowhere.
Then again, the hurt wasn’t much compared to how it felt knowing we’d let Julie down.
At least Julie wasn’t hard to find. Actually, she found us, practicing in the studio.
And actually, what we were practicing was a special song, just for her.
As soon as she walked in, we belted it out, a capella.
We’re sorry / So sorry! / We’re super duper crazy stupid SORRRYYYYYYY!
We all looked at Julie, waiting to see what she’d say.
“In case you missed it, we’re really sorry,” Reggie said.
“Yeah, I got that part,” she replied. But her expression was hard to read.
“We’ve been waiting here for, like, three hours,” Alex said.
“We almost sang the song to your brother,” I added. “He comes out here a lot. Mainly to use the bathroom. Not our favorite part of the day.” Then I got serious. “Julie, it wasn’t okay that we flaked on the dance. We know we let you down.”
“And none of us ever want to disappoint you,” Alex put in. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to us since we became ghosts.”
“So”—I jumped up and ran to grab the flyer I’d taken home from the coffee shop—“in the hopes you’ll rejoin the band, we booked a new gig.”
Julie took the flyer from me and scanned it. “So this means a lot to you, huh? Kind of like how playing in front of my whole school meant a lot to me?”
Reggie shot Alex and me a glance. “That sounds like sarcasm. I’m starting to think our plan isn’t working.”
I leveled with her. “Look, we know we messed up. But we need you in our band.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Of course you do. Because no one can see you unless you’re playing with me.” Her voice lowered. “I thought the music we were writing together was special. But you’re too obsessed with your past to even care.”
And with that, she stormed out.
I won’t pretend the guys’ song didn’t have an effect on me—I mean, I’m not made of stone. But that was the thing: starting to make music again, to write songs with Luke … It had opened something back up in me, made me feel things. So when they let me down, it hurt that much more.
Desperate for a distraction, I turned to my homework. But I hadn’t done more than open my textbook when Alex and Reggie poofed in.
“Do you have a second?” Alex asked.
By way of response, I turned so I was fully giving them the literal cold shoulder.
“She can’t see us anymore!” Reggie cried.
But Alex came and sat in front of me on my bed. “Julie, please.”
I shook my head. “I told you, I’m done.”
“We know,” Alex assured me. “But before you decide forever, we wanted you to know—Luke is not as selfish as you think he is. Did he ever play you that song of his, ‘Emily?’”
“No,” I answered. “But I found it one day, flipping through his notebook, and he freaked out and grabbed it away. So I didn’t ask any questions.”
“Right. Well, will you let us show you who it’s about?”
I had to admit, I was curious.
Slowly, I nodded, hoping I wouldn’t regret it.
“Luke comes here a lot.”
Alex pointed as we all looked through the kitchen window of a cozy, white-shingled house. An older woman placed two cups of coffee down on the table. She looked … well, heavy hearted was the only way to describe her expression.
“Emily’s his mom?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the scene.
“Yeah,” Alex said. We watched Luke, unaware that we were outside, leaning against the kitchen wall, his gaze following his mother around the room. “He thinks we don’t know, but we’ve been following him.”
“All he does is hang out like this and watch them,” Reggie said. “They never really do anything, though.”
Now Luke’s father came into the frame, equally weathered and beaten-down by time. Emily vanished from the window and then reappeared carrying a birthday cake.
“They’re having cake. That’s something,” I said.
“It’s a birthday cake,” Reggie explained softly. “For Luke.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, and through the window, I saw Luke well up, too. “I had no idea Luke was hurting this bad.”
“It’s even worse because when he died, he was on bad terms with his parents. They didn’t want him in the band, so he just took off. And he never got a chance to make up with them.”
Luke blew out the candles on the cake. His parents looked startled, but through the window, we could see them quickly write it off as wind.
“That’s why Luke is so angry,” Reggie said. “If Trevor had at least given Luke credit for writing all those songs, his parents would have known his dream was worth chasing.”
I felt my heart crack in two. “They would have been so proud.”
Alex looked me straight in the eyes. “We know how much it hurts when someone who should have had your back lets you down. We never meant to make you feel that way, too.”
“Julie, we love our band. And so does Luke. Give us another chance.” Reggie’s eyes were bright, filled with feeling.
I was filled with feeling, too. How could I possibly walk away from the Phantoms? They were my life now, my connection to music.
My mom was gone. And these guys—well, they may have been dead, but they were still here for me.
All that was left to do was to break the good news to Luke—and to wish him a ha
ppy birthday, too.
If I thought all my problems were solved now that the band and I were back together, I was in for a rude awakening. When I got home, I found Dad in the living room, sitting on the sofa with his arms crossed—clearly waiting for me and clearly unhappy about something.
“Care to tell me why you missed the first three periods today?”
Busted. “I overslept at Flynn’s house after the dance. But there was nothing going on in those classes. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Dad took a deep breath. “Okay. But if I know you missed class, it’s only a matter of time before—”
He couldn’t even finish his sentence before Aunt Victoria came bursting in. Her hair was frizzed out and her eyes looked panicked. “I came as fast as I could! Julie, I will not let you go straight into the gutter of life!”
“Tía, I’m fine. I just overslept. Dad and I talked about it.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You are far from fine! I called your teacher and she said you missed a calculus test.”
Now Dad stood, stern again. “ ‘Nothing going on,’ huh?”
Double-busted. “Dad, I’m so sorry.”
“This is where you punish her,” Tía said.
“I know.” Dad sighed, resigned. “Julie, no more going out on school nights.”
The open mic! I couldn’t miss it! Especially not after having just patched things up with the guys. “But, Dad, tonight—”
“And go to your room.” He cut me off. Aunt Victoria cleared her throat. “And study! Calculus. Go!”
I was still poring over my math book when the boys knocked on my door later that night.
“What are you doing? Just come in.”
“We’re being classy,” Reggie said, hurt, as they came inside.
“Why are you still here? We go on in twenty minutes,” Luke said. As if I needed a reminder.
I sighed. “I lied to my dad and now I’m trapped in my room all night.” Even saying it made my stomach twist in knots.
“But we were just down at the venue and it’s packed!” Alex protested. “VIPs, managers … it’s kinda crazy.”
