When I get downstairs, my dad and Cindy are watching a movie on the couch. And they’re holding hands. Ew. I mean, I know I said I was okay with the whole my-dad-and-Cindy-being-together thing, but come on. Do they have to hold hands like that in front of me?
“Hi, Kendall,” Cindy says, giving me a big smile. “Do you want to watch the movie with us?”
“Oh, no thanks,” I say. “I have plans.”
“Okay.” She looks a little disappointed. Probably she wants to bond with me or something. The thought is kind of panic-inducing, if you want to know the truth. I don’t really want to bond with Cindy. We really don’t need to start hanging out and talking about boys and fashion, do we?
“I totally would,” I say, to make her feel better, “if I didn’t have plans.” I squint at the screen, where two old people are holding hands and running on the beach. Wow. Looks like a real exciting movie. It’s probably one of those ones about old people falling in love and then one of them dying. Why the heck would my dad and Cindy want to watch this?
“Well,” she says, “maybe we could go to the mall or something this weekend.”
My dad beams at her while I try to keep the horror I’m feeling inside from showing on my face. A day at the mall with Cindy? That sounds like a recipe for disaster. Although I guess now I’ll probably have to do things like that with her from time to time. I should probably get used to it.
Hmm. I wonder if she’d be one of those nice stepmothers who would try to overcompensate for everything by buying me tons of presents. Not that I would ask for them. But there was a girl last year who got this really rich stepfather who would take her and her brother on all these great vacations and then bought her, like, four pairs of UGG boots and a Michael Kors watch.
I don’t think Cindy is rich, though. At least, if she is, she doesn’t show it.
“That could be fun,” I say noncommittally.
I hear the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and I glance out the window. Oh, thank God. It must be Micah and his mom.
“Okay!” I yell to my dad, hoping he’s not going to get up and look out the window to see if it’s really Ellie and her mom. “I’ll see you a little later tonight. Enjoy the movie! No need to get up. You don’t want to miss anything.”
I cringe as the words come out of my mouth. I mean, could I be any more obvious? But my dad and Cindy don’t seem to notice. They just wave and say good-bye, and then Cindy rests her head on my dad’s shoulder.
Gross.
When I get to Micah’s mom’s car, she’s unbuckling her seat belt.
“Hi,” I say, sliding into the backseat.
“Hey, cutie,” Micah says from right next to me. Yikes.
“Ugh, he’s so obvious,” Lyra says, appearing in the front seat.
I got into the backseat because I just assumed that Micah would be sitting in the front. Who sits in the backseat when there’s an empty seat in the front? Unless he sat back here because he wanted to sit next to me. Or unless he just thought that I would sit in the front. Like he was saving the front seat for me to be nice.
But it’s too late now. I’m already in the back. How ridiculous would it be if I got out and moved to the front? Plus Lyra’s already up there. Ghost or not, it would be weird if I just sat on top of her.
“Doesn’t your dad want to meet me?” Sharon asks.
“Oh, no,” I say. “He’s fine with me coming over.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind popping in for just a second.” She finishes unbuckling her seat belt and goes to open the car door.
“He’s actually not home,” I say, crossing my fingers that she buys it, even though half the lights in the house are on, his truck is in the driveway, and the stupid TV is on so loud that you can practically hear it all the way out here.
“Oh,” Sharon says, shutting the door and buckling her seat belt back up. “Well, maybe he’ll be here when I drive you back.”
Or maybe not.
The whole ride to Micah’s house, he’s grinning at me and trying to hold my hand. At least, I think he’s trying to hold my hand. When he got too close, I quickly slid my hand back into my lap.
I think he thinks I’m shy.
“Wow, this house is a disaster,” Lyra says, shaking her head as we walk in.
She’s kind of right. There are boxes all over the place, labeled with things like “Dishes” and “Books” and “Odds ’n’ ends.” Some of them are open, their contents peeking out of the top, like someone needed something inside but didn’t want to take the time to actually unpack the box. But there are cozy-looking chairs in the living room, and the whole place smells like spiced apples.
“I like your house,” I say honestly.
“This house needs to be organized!” Lyra yells. She starts peering into the half-open boxes. “I wonder what they did with my stuff,” she mumbles. “They better not have donated it all to Goodwill. I had some really cute sweaters.”
“Thank you,” Sharon says. She looks around. “It’s a bit of a mess right now, but hopefully, once we’re all unpacked, it’ll be nice.”
“It’s already nice,” I say.
“I like her, Micah,” Sharon says, grinning at us both. “You need to bring girls like her home more often.”
Micah beams, like he’s the one responsible for my politeness.
“Well,” Sharon says. “I guess I should get back to the kitchen. I have sauce ready to heat on the stove, and I need to get started on the meatballs.”
“Do you need any help?” I ask.
“No, no, I think I’ve got it all covered.” She doesn’t sound so sure, though. And now that we’re inside in the light, I can see she has a big smear of tomato sauce on her cheek. Yikes.
“Well, okay,” I say. “If you’re sure.”
“Of course I’m sure,” she says. “You young people have fun and hang out.” She shoos us over to the couch and then disappears into the kitchen.
Wow. I guess she doesn’t really care about her son being left alone with a girl. It’s, like, not even crossing her mind that maybe it’s not the best idea. My dad would never leave me alone in a room with Brandon.
Maybe Sharon knows her son better than I think she does. Maybe Lyra has him all wrong. Maybe Micah isn’t some kind of ladies’ man, and Lyra just thinks that because he’s her brother and people are always thinking bad things about their brothers. Maybe he’s actually a really nice guy.
“Wanna watch a movie?” Micah asks.
“Sure,” I say. “What do you have?”
“Eh, it doesn’t matter,” he says, then turns the TV on and starts flipping through the channels. He lands on one of those goofy movies that get their laughs from physical comedy, like the main character falling all over himself and pretending to trip and stuff. I hate movies like that.
“Maybe we should watch something else,” I say. “Sometimes they play good movies on ABC Family on Friday nights.”
But Micah either ignores me or doesn’t hear me. Instead of responding or picking up the remote to turn the channel, he reaches over and dims the light.
And then he sits back down AND PUTS HIS ARM AROUND ME. Okay. Do not panic. Do. Not. Panic. Just because there is a boy who has his arm around me and I may or may not be cheating on my boyfriend right now doesn’t mean that I should panic.
“Wow,” Lyra says. “You’re kind of cheating on Brandon right now.”
“I am not cheating on Brandon,” I mouth at her. It’s true. I mean, just because I’m letting Micah put his arm around me does not mean that I’m cheating. It’s all part of my job. In fact, I’m kind of like an actress who’s playing a role, and in this scene a boy has to put his arm around me. It’s like I’m in a school play or something. And if I were in a school play and this were happening, it definitely wouldn’t be cheating.
“If you say so,” Lyra says, shrugging. “Anyway, this is boring. I’m going to go check out the rest of the house. I’ll be back when Rachel and her mom get here.�
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Great. Now I’m left alone with Micah. And yeah, even though Lyra’s a ghost and no one can see her but me, it was still comforting to have her around.
“So, uh, have you seen this movie before?” I ask Micah. I shift away from him on the couch in an effort to make it too uncomfortable for him to keep his arm around me. But he just moves closer.
“I’ve seen it before, yeah,” he says. Then he grins. “But I’ve never seen it with you.”
“Oh,” I say, dumbfounded. I’m trying to think of something witty and interesting that will make him stop looking at me like that, because honestly, I’m afraid he might try to kiss me. And let’s face it, I can kind of bend the truth about him putting his arm around me, but if a kiss was to take place, that would definitely be cheating.
But before I know it, his lips are coming toward mine. I practically leap over to the other side of the couch.
“You like to play hard to get,” he says, nodding.
Yikes. “Um, well, not really,” I say. “I mean, I have a boyfriend.”
“Well, he’s not here right now, is he?” He grins at me again. I’m pretty sure he’s just about to move in for another kiss when it happens.
The TV goes all weird.
Wavy white lines fill the screen, and the sound of static echoes through the room at a super-high volume.
“Whoa,” Micah says. “What the heck happened?”
“Micah, turn that down,” Sharon yells from the other room. “You’re going to blow out the speakers.”
Micah goes to turn it down, but it doesn’t work. In fact, the volume just gets louder. And that’s when I see her. Mrs. Dunham. She’s on the TV. Like, her face is actually on the screen.
“Kendall,” she says. “Stay away from my son. I’m serious this time. My patience is running out.”
My blood runs cold and my heart starts pounding wildly in my chest.
I look over at Micah to see if he can see Mrs. Dunham too, but he’s just frowning down at the remote, pushing buttons in an effort to get the volume to go down. “That’s weird,” he’s saying. “It won’t even shut off. This stupid thing is busted.”
Mrs. Dunham starts talking again, repeating for me to stay away from Brandon, and her voice is getting louder and louder, until I’m at the point where I want to scream at her to shut up. You’d think she’d be happy to see me with Micah, but apparently she knows it’s all a ruse. I put my hands over my ears to try to block out her voice, but it doesn’t work.
The lights start to flicker on and off, and then sparks fly out of the back of the television. After a moment the lights come back on, but the TV screen goes completely black.
“What the heck was that?” Sharon asks, appearing in the doorway. The sauce is gone from her cheek, but now she has some smeared on her shirt. I hope she plans on changing before the company gets here. She looks at the black television screen. “Micah! I told you you were going to blow the speakers out.”
“Mom, I didn’t do anything,” he says. He’s still trying to turn the TV on, but it’s not working. “We were just sitting here watching TV when all of a sudden the whole thing went crazy.” He looks at me for confirmation.
“It’s true,” I say. “We were just watching a movie.”
Sharon sighs and puts her hand to her forehead, like she can’t deal with this right now. I mean, she’s trying to cook dinner for a bunch of people. A broken television set is probably the last thing she wants to deal with.
“Okay,” she says. “Well, I’ll call someone about it tomorrow. I think it’s still under warranty.”
I breathe a little sigh of relief. If the TV is under warranty, then it won’t be my fault that Sharon has to shell out a bunch of money to get it fixed. I doubt she has a bunch of money to shell out. Her nail salon obviously isn’t doing that well.
But my moment of relief is short-lived. Mrs. Dunham was in their television set! I’ve never seen something like that before.
I shiver. She said her patience is running out. What does that mean? Is she planning to do something dangerous?
But before I can think about what Mrs. Dunham might have in store, the doorbell rings.
Rachel has arrived.
Chapter
11
Rachel looks nothing like I pictured her.
She’s small and meek-looking, with shoulder-length brown hair. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a navy blue T-shirt, with no jewelry or makeup, and plain white sneakers. Her hair is parted in the middle, and she’s holding a book in her hand. She’s very pretty—she just doesn’t look like the kind of girl Lyra would be friends with.
“What?” Lyra asks defensively. “I told you I wasn’t always so glamorous.”
“Nice to meet you,” Rachel says to me. She shakes my hand, and I give her a big smile. She kind of dismisses me, though, once she realizes that I’m here with Micah. She’s probably used to seeing all kinds of girls around Micah, and she probably thinks any girl who’s with Micah isn’t worth getting to know.
Well! Time to prove her wrong about that.
“So,” I say, “I see you have a copy of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.”
“Yeah.” She hugs it to her chest protectively, like I’m going to try to steal it or something.
“I love that book.”
“Really?” She raises her eyebrows.
“Yeah,” I say. “I think Francie’s a really awesome character. I used to wish I could collect scrap metal and then take the money to the penny candy store and buy sweets like she does.”
“Me too!” Rachel exclaims.
Lyra shakes her head. “See?” she says. “This is why we started growing apart.”
“You guys started growing apart?” I ask. This is news to me. The kind of news that maybe Lyra should have mentioned.
“What?” Rachel asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “Just, you know, talking to myself.”
“She talks to herself a lot,” Micah reports. He slings his arm over my shoulder. “Come on, babe,” he says. “Let’s go up to my room.”
“Um, shouldn’t we hang out with Rachel?” I ask. “We don’t want to leave her on her own.”
“It’s okay,” Rachel says, holding her book up. “I can read.”
“No, no,” I say. “That would be rude.”
“This is boring!” Micah yells.
Wow. I had no idea he was so volatile.
“Maybe we can do something,” I say. “You know, like, uh, play a game or something.”
“The TV’s broken,” he says. “Remember? So we can’t play a video game.”
“We could play a board game,” I say.
“I hate board games,” Micah replies. He plops himself down on the couch and looks around, like he’s trying to find something to amuse himself with. “Hey, maybe we could go somewhere!” he says finally.
“Like where?” I ask warily.
“Like the bowling alley. We were thinking of going later anyway, remember?”
“But isn’t your mom cooking dinner?” Rachel asks.
He waves his hand like this fact is of no consequence. “That food isn’t going to be done for hours. She’s the slowest cook ever. Besides, she’ll probably mess up whatever it is she’s making and then have to start over. We’ll be here all night.”
“He’s right,” Lyra says, nodding.
“Well, okay,” I say. “But who’s going to take us to the bowling alley?”
Micah rolls his eyes. “We can walk,” he says. “It’s right on Main Street.”
“Yeah, I know where it is,” I say. “But it’s dark out.”
Micah grins. “Don’t worry, babe,” he says. “I’ll protect you.”
Great. I turn and look at Rachel, who’s sitting on one of the chairs now, with her book open, reading. “Rachel, do you want to go to the bowling alley?” I ask.
“Nah, she wants to stay here and read,” Micah says.
“I can answer for myself, Micah,” she replies, glaring at
him. She opens her mouth, and for a moment I’m almost positive that she’s going to say she’ll stay here. That’s what I would do if I were her. No way I’d want to go out to the bowling alley with Micah and some girl he was with who I’d only just met.
But then she puts her book down. “Yes,” she says, “I’d love to go.”
“Great,” I say. “It’s all settled.”
The walk to the bowling alley is kind of horrible. It’s cold outside, and I didn’t bring my jacket. You’d think that maybe Micah would offer me his, but nooo. He just pulls gloves out of his pocket and puts them on his own hands.
“What did I tell you?” he brags as we walk through the cemetery. “Did I tell you my mom would let us go?”
“You told us,” I say grudgingly. Rachel rolls her eyes. It was actually surprisingly easy to convince Sharon to let us all walk to the bowling alley. I thought she’d probably flip out when Micah asked her, but she didn’t. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Rachel’s mom, and they were flipping through some old photos or something and laughing while they drank wine.
She didn’t even care that we were going to be out in the dark, walking on busy streets. Of course, I don’t know why I’m surprised. Anyone who lets her son work at a nail salon when they’re not even a certified nail technician is obviously pretty lenient.
“She always let him do whatever he wants,” Lyra grumbles as we walk. “She always liked him more than me.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I’m sure she’s exaggerating, and besides, I’m having a hard time mustering up any sympathy for her. She’s the reason I’m even in this crazy situation to begin with. Not to mention that since she’s a ghost, she doesn’t even have to be cold or anything.
“This cemetery is kind of creepy,” Rachel says.
“Oooh, you’re afraid of ghosts,” Micah scoffs. “What a baby.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” I say. “Ghosts don’t usually hang out at the cemetery.” She gives me a weird look. “Uh, at least from what I’ve heard.”
I scan her, looking for any sign of a cell phone. The sooner I can get her phone, the sooner I can see what could possibly be in it that might be making her so upset, and the sooner I can solve this mystery and get the heck out of here. Maybe I can even be home in time to see if there are any good movies on ABC Family. Although all the good ones usually start at seven, and so I’ve probably missed them.
The Harder the Fall Page 13
