“It's totally plausible,” she informed me. “When my mom and I were moving around a lot, back when I was a kid, we lived in about a dozen different places. At least a couple of them had entities attached to the home, or a room.”
Interesting…
“So what did you do? I mean, can anything be done at all?”
“Depends,” she answered, sounding mildly aloof.
“On?”
“On what it is, and why it's there,” she said, pulling a lollipop from her knapsack and unwrapping it slowly.
“And how would one venture to gain such information?” I asked, mildly perturbed. I didn't like having to drag conversation out of people.
“Depends,” she said with a shrug, popping the sucker in her mouth.
“Say 'depends' one more time and I'm leaving you at home alone while Cooper and I check into a hotel for the night.”
“It depe—” she said, cutting herself off before saying the “d” word. “It revolves around whether or not the entity is sentient. If it's a residual being, they tend to do things on a loop, like they're a skipping record just playing out the same event over and over again infinitely. However, if it is indeed aware of what's going on in present time, you could technically ask it, but it needs to show itself for that to happen. That doesn't seem to be happening here. I can see ghosts, and I can talk to them if they want to talk to me, but I'm no intuitive. I can't sense things about them; my gifts are more tangible than that.”
I thought about what she'd said, digesting the facts and working the angles over and over again in my mind. I came to only one conclusion.
“So you're saying that unless this thing wants to talk to us, or we can find some looney tune/voodoo master to tell us what it's thinking, we're basically screwed.”
“Yep,” she said, taking a bite of her lollipop. “Proper fucked as the Brits would say.” Peyta seemed entirely too pleased with her little addition to my observation.
“Hey!” I yelled. “Language, young lady!”
She rolled her eyes and put her bag under the counter. She appeared to be taking everything in stride, so I left it alone.
“Why are you here so early? Shouldn't you be at school now?” I asked.
“Early release day,” she mumbled.
“Oh, okay. Well, I have dance tonight so I won't be around,” I reminded her. “You may want to start tracking Cooper down now to make sure he's home.”
If my wits had been about me earlier instead of in CF hell, I'd have called him to remind him myself. I settled for a text, and let Peyta call. Maybe he'll get the point if we both harass him.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon was totally unremarkable. No customers, no phone calls, and no ghosts. Peyta manged to finally get hold of Cooper shortly before I was to leave. She said he sounded groggy, like she woke him up, but he promised to get over to the store ASAP. I hovered around, continually glancing at the clock, awaiting his arrival. Minutes ticked by and I needed to leave, but Cooper still hadn't shown.
“Just go, Ruby. You're going to be late,” Peyta said for the fifth time. “I'll be fine. He said he'd be right over so I'm sure he will be.”
I looked at her dubiously, not in love with her idea.
“I really don't think it's wise, especially after my little incident,” I reminded her.
“What can happen in the next five minutes, really?”
“I'm learning that it's best not to ask questions like that of the universe,” I told her. “You may not like its sense of irony.”
She tilted her head to the side and frowned. Her body language said that she thought I was patronizing her, but my hesitation was in her best interest. Whatever slammed into me earlier wasn't friendly and I couldn't have it on my conscience if it did the same to her.
“Ruby, I've dealt with the paranormal all my life. You can't be around me 24/7 forever,” she pleaded. “Please, just go. You're going to be late.”
That was the truth; I was already ten minutes behind schedule.
“Call him again,” I told her, thinking maybe he was held up.
“I'll call him now,” she promised, “But just go. If anything weird starts happening, I'll close up early and head out.”
I didn't like the plan one bit and I told her so – six times to be exact. She mocked me while she flipped her phone open to redial Cooper's number. I hesitated at the door to see if she reached him, but she shooed me away, literally, shoving me out the door of my own store with a smile on her face.
She's going to give me gray hair.
The TT and I made up for lost time on the way down, primarily because of a break in traffic and my heavily leaded foot. I walked in the door just as formal warm ups were getting under way, and after a quick change in the bathroom, I found a spot in the back of the studio next to Matty. He was looking especially buff in a tight white t-shirt and hospital scrubs so threadbare they looked translucent. I'd always acknowledged that Matty was a good-looking kid, but there was something about him that night that was different, manly. His boyish charm seemed swapped out by something more mature and alluring; I was completely fascinated.
Let the interrogations begin.
“So Matty, what's up with the hot cabana boy look?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, looking away to hide his rosying cheeks.
“You look different,” I said as a mischievous smile crossed my face.
“You look the same.”
“Is it a girl?”
He said nothing.
Jackpot.
“It is a girl, isn't it?” I asked again, completely self-impressed that I'd come to the conclusion so easily.
“Maybe,” he said, moving to get up.
“No you don't,” I said, grabbing his arm to keep him on the floor beside me. “Tell me about her.” I looked over at him while I positioned myself in a seated straddle stretch and laid my torso over my right leg. He looked over at me with an odd expression.
“It's not a big deal, Ruby. Let's talk about something else. How's Gravity these days?” he asked, referring to Sean.
“Ugh, I agree, let's talk about something else.”
I was dying to know about the girl in Matty's life who'd awakened the man within, but not enough to have to rehash the Sean debacle.
“You were cutting it kinda close tonight, weren't you?” he asked. “What gives?”
“Cooper, as usual.”
“Ah,” he said, bending forward over his legs, wrapping his hands around the soles of his feet. He left the unspoken “the guy's a total junkie” hanging in the air.
I'd completely forgotten that Matty didn't know how right he was about Cooper, but I didn't think that going into a long-winded monologue about him while we lined up to do plies at the barre was entirely appropriate, so I gave him the abbreviated version.
“You were right about him. I caught him right after you dropped me off that night,” I said, dropping the bomb. I was vague enough that nobody around us would know what we were talking about, which made me feel better in case they met Cooper after all this nonsense was through, but Matty read my message loud and clear.
“I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, Matty, I'm sorry too.”
* * *
After a surprisingly easy class of choreography and a discussion about what the theme for our next show would be, we finished about thirty minutes early. As I was gathering my things to leave, Shannon, one of the other girls in class, suggested that we go out for the night. I ignored her comment, figuring she wasn't really talking to me anyways and packed up my bag.
“So are you coming?” she asked. My back was to her while I jammed my jeans into my duffel. I turned around to see that she actually was speaking directly to me.
“You're asking me?” I said, unable to hide my surprise.
“Yeah, don't you wanna go?” she asked, looking moderately disappointed by my lack of enthusiasm.
“Um, yeah…yeah, sure I can go,” I r
esponded, thinking that it was the first time in a long time that I'd been asked to go anywhere. I couldn't stop the smile from spreading across my face. “Where exactly are we going?”
“Most of us are going to have to go home to change, but we're going to meet up at a club downtown around eleven-ish. Do you have other clothes with you?”
“Yeah, I'm good,” I said, thanking myself for dressing up for work that day. My killer vintage jeans, courtesy of Ronnie, gorgeous off-the-shoulder knit top and favorite knee-high boots were completely club-worthy. We hadn't worked up enough of a sweat in class to be worried about a shower; I figured I'd probably sweat more once we got to the club. My makeup was minimal and my hair was classic Ruby – curly and unmanageable.
I was ready to go.
Matty yelled across the room to see if I wanted to grab a bite to eat while the others went home to prepare for the night's shenanigans. My stomach nearly growled on cue, reminding me that I hadn't really eaten all day. He said there was a good place not far from where we were going and we could meet everyone after we ate. It sounded great to me.
As we headed out the door it dawned on me that I had no idea where I was driving to for the night.
“So where exactly am I going? I'm going to need directions,” I called out to the group as we made our collective way down the stairs.
“I always forget that New Hampshire doesn't know where to party in the city,” Shannon yelled up to me as she took the final step down into the foyer. “You’re going to the best club in Boston.”
“And that would be?” I asked, drawing out the “be” as long as I could.
“Vain, Ruby. We're going to club Vain.”
23
“Are there no other clubs in the this city?” I asked Matty, lamenting as I drove through the confusing streets of downtown Boston. I breathed through my frustration, not looking forward to my march into the lion's den. “Why am I asking you? Are you even old enough to get in this place?”
I turned and smiled at him in the dimly lit car. He didn't look nearly as amused as I knew I did.
“Yes, I'm old enough to get in. You, on the other hand, are going to have to leave your walker at the door.”
“Touché, my friend,” I said as I rounded the corner onto our destination street. “Hey! Maybe they'll think I'm your mom.”
“Ugh, Ruby, that's so not the mental imprint I want to have right now,” he said with a contorted face that mirrored his sentiment to a tee.
“Alright, alright, I'll stop,” I said, as one last jab flashed in my mind. “You know, I could just be your older sister.”
“Enough already!” he shouted, weakly punching me in the arm. “You're freaking me out. I don't want to think about you being related to me in any way.”
Ouch.
“Wow, not sure where that's coming from but consider it fully dropped,” I snipped as I focused my eyes straight ahead, silence flooding the TT. Matty had seemed off from the start of class, through dinner, and during the car ride to Vain. I wanted to ask what was up with him, but just didn't know how. I didn't know enough about him to know if I should press the issue or let it drop, but I did know him enough to know something was getting to him and he wasn't dealing with it well at all.
* * *
We spotted the others in line outside and made our way to join them, walking past the chubby guy who had worked the ropes the night I'd met Cooper there. He looked at me strangely, like he was trying to figure out if he knew me from somewhere and I half-smiled at him as we continued past.
“Friend of yours?” Matty asked, his question dripping with sarcasm.
“Uh, that'd be a big, fat negative.”
I no sooner had that response out of my mouth when I heard my name being hollered out from over my shoulder. Matty and I turned in unison to see that same chubby guy waving us in.
“Big, fat negative indeed,” Matty said with an incredulous look on his face.
“It's a long story,” I offered. “Go grab the crew from the line. Looks like we're getting in through the express lane tonight!”
After we all made it in, got drinks, and pushed our way to the dance floor, Matty asked for a more in-depth explanation. I threw Cooper under the bus as it was the easiest and least otherworldly explanation. I knew Matty would buy it since he'd just had his suspicions confirmed about Cooper earlier that evening, and it wasn't a big stretch to think that someone with a drug problem would enjoy drinking and partying as well. He let the whole thing go after that and seemed to lighten up in general.
It was nice to be there with a group. We managed to find our own little plot of dance floor and lay claim to it for the night. Some of the guys in our company were amazing at hip-hop and whenever proper inspiration came blaring through the speakers, we'd push our circle outward, leaving them room in the middle to work their magic.
We made spectacles of ourselves in true Broadway musical style, singing at the top of our lungs, and breaking out into choreographed montages; it was the most fun I'd had in my life. Hours passed, drinks vanished, replenished, then vanished again, and my face hurt from smiling and laughing uncontrollably. I wasn't fall down drunk, but I was leaning pretty hard.
Matty drew nearer to me as the night went on. I wasn't sure, but he rarely seemed to have a drink in hand; either he was a champion chugger, or he wasn't much of a drinker. He hovered over me, making sure that nobody got too near, and that I stayed upright – my very own personal babysitter/bodyguard.
“I think maybe you've had enough for tonight, Ruby,” he said soberly as he plucked the G&T from my hand.
“I think maybe you should have another,” I replied, snatching my beverage of choice back from him. “Lighten up a bit; you're a total downer tonight. What gives anyways?”
“I just think you should slow down a bit. It's still kinda early and you're already pretty toasted.”
“Whatever,” I tossed in his direction as I sipped, instead of guzzled my drink. It was a concession of sorts.
“I'm not trying to be a dick, Ruby, I just don't want to see—”
“OH MY GOD! I love this song!” I shouted, cutting him off entirely. “Dance with me.”
I slammed the rest of my drink and tossed the cup into the crowd behind me. Crashing into his body, I wrapped my arms around his waist and threw my head back to look up at him.
“This is the best night ever!” I yelled over the pounding music before proceeding to belt out the lyrics to Katy Perry's “Teenage Dream”. I continued to sing as we moved together on the floor, bodies enmeshed as I leaned into him for stability and he into me for whatever reason he had at that moment, the most likely being to placate me.
Music made me forget everything. It had always had the ability to transport me somewhere else in my mind as a way of escape. That night was no exception. I forgot about the petite birthday girl, my roommate the junkie, and the gorgeous but inhuman question mark that normally plagued my mind. I let the music move me, taking Matty along for the ride.
“I think I should take you home, Ruby,” Matty said, bending down to speak into my ear. I stumbled away from him a bit so I could see him.
“But you don't live in New Hampshire,” I stated, thinking it was a completely logical argument in that moment.
“Not your home, Ruby…mine.”
“Oh,” I said as I crashed into his chest courtesy of a flying elbow to the back from some other club-goer. “Your house?”
“I don't think that'll be necessary, Ruby,” a voice said from behind me. “I'm pretty sure I can manage to get you back.”
I turned to respond, but faltered again, Matty catching me before I crashed into the floor.
“I'm good, I'm good,” I proclaimed to Matty as I steadied myself.
“Do you want to go with him?” he asked, tossing his head in the direction of the man behind me. “With Gravity?”
His tone was serious, as was the look on his face, and I turned to see that Sean was returning his gaze with equal inte
nsity.
“Yeah, yeah, it's fine, Matty. He's fine. It'll be fine.”
“That's a lot of 'fine's',” he said disbelievingly. “I can take you…if you'd feel safer.”
Even in my moderately drunken state I could hear the subtext in his reply – this guy broke your heart, and he looks like trouble; it's not fine.
I pulled Matty's face down to me and kissed him on the cheek.
“He's okay, Matty. It'll be alright,” I said to reassure him. “I promise.”
He looked unconvinced, but let it be. He asked me to call him when I got home so he knew I was safe, and made a point to say it loudly enough that Sean heard him.
He really is a good kid.
“Let's go, you lightweight,” Sean said as he slipped an arm around my waist, directing me away from my friends. “And no puking in the car.”
“I'm not that drunk!” I protested.
“Right,” he said, ushering me through the mass of bodies.
“I'M NOT!” I yelled adamantly.
He said nothing and continued to guide me towards the exit. I wriggled out of his grip, shouting one more denial as I did. He looked down to see me standing, arms folded over my chest.
“Fine, you're not drunk. Happy now? We need to go.”
I said nothing, but just stared at him. The way the lights fell on him in the club made him look so angelic, it actually took my breath away for the briefest of moments.
And then it happened.
I was fully making out with him in the middle of the dance floor before it dawned on me that I'd even moved. My mind seemed to be working slower than my libido. Entangling my fingers in his hair, I pulled on it hard to leverage myself tighter against him. He grabbed the backs of my thighs, lifting me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. I kissed him like I wanted to crawl inside him, become a part of him, and his enthusiasm equaled mine. Once my mind finally caught up with my body, I quickly pulled away from his face.
“Why do we need to go?” I asked, breathing heavily.
“Unimportant right now,” he answered, placing my feet on the ground. He grabbed my hand in a vise-like grip, before nearly running us out the door.
Haunted Page 13
