Ghostcoming!

by Orli Zuravicky

“Two months.”

  “And you, Mia?”

  “A month.”

  “And you, Chloe?”

  “Five weeks.”

  She goes on to ask Trey, and a few other people standing on line, and everyone’s answer has one damning thing in common: Each one is significantly longer than a little over a week.

  “Curious,” Georgia says.

  But before she can continue, the rest of the crew appears: Jonah, dressed like Prince Charming to Chloe’s Cinderella; Jessie and his date, dressed like Peeta and Katniss from The Hunger Games; and Marcus and his date, dressed like Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley.

  I know this is going to sting Cecily because she has natural red hair and would have literally been the perfect Ginny to Marcus’s Harry.

  Quickly, I whisper in Cecily’s ear, “Me? I’ve always been partial to Ron and Hermione. They’re obviously the cooler couple.”

  She smiles. “Obviously! Hey, are you feeling any better?”

  “What’s the matter, Lucy?” Georgia pipes in. “Feeling tired?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  But this ship has already sailed, and we’re in for some seriously stormy weather.

  “Oh, Ms. Roslyn?” Georgia calls out to the first teacher who walks by us. “Can you please ask Ms. Tilly to come over to the sign-up table? Lucy Chadwick and Cecily Vanderberg have broken the rules of Limbo Central.”

  Ahhhhhhhh!

  Yup, that’s the sound of us falling all the way down the rabbit hole.

  “Georgia, what are you saying?” Colin shouts angrily. “Don’t do this, it’s not fair.”

  But it’s too late. Ms. Roslyn has already left to fetch Ms. Tilly.

  “I’m just being honest,” Georgia says. “There’s no way they could have done this in a week’s time.”

  “I know you’re jealous, but this is going too far,” Colin continues. “I promised I’d go with you tonight if you stopped all this crazy mean-girl stuff, and here I am. You need to keep your promise, too.”

  Aha!

  Georgia said she’d back off of me if he went to the dance with her, and he agreed. For me. Which means he really did want to come with me after all … not that that’s what’s important now. Because it SO isn’t.

  “That’s not what this is, Colin,” Georgia goes on. “Lucy is more powerful than most of us, maybe, but there’s no way Cecily did this on her own. I know—I’m her tutor. She was still half see-through, like, a day ago.”

  Everyone is quiet then. I know they’re all secretly processing what Georgia said and wondering if it’s true. I feel like I just swallowed a lump of coal. I can’t let Cecily go down for my mistake. What kind of a friend would I be if I did?

  “I worked really hard on this outfit,” Cecily says. “I’m as surprised as you are, but I did it all by myself. I swear.”

  “I was there,” I say. Technically, that’s true.

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see. Won’t we?” Georgia answers.

  “Girls, what seems to be the problem?” Ms. Tilly says, appearing by Georgia’s side behind the table. “I was told there was some kind of breach of the honor system?”

  “Cecily started at Limbo only a little over a week ago, Ms. Tilly,” Georgia begins, “and I am her tutor. There’s no way she possesses the strength or skill at this point to be able to change her appearance on her own. Someone interfered, and that someone is Lucy Chadwick.”

  “This is very serious, indeed,” Ms. Tilly says. “Ms. Vanderberg, what is your response to this?”

  “I don’t know why I suddenly started gaining strength over the last few days, but I have. I did this on my own. Lucy didn’t do anything.”

  Then Ms. Tilly turns to me. “Ms. Chadwick, do you stand by Ms. Vanderberg?”

  What an oddly worded question … I could just come out with the truth here and now. But that would destroy Cecily. Like, into a million little pieces. And she’d hate me forever. Or, I could answer Ms. Tilly’s question—the exact question that she asked. Do I stand by my best friend?

  “Absolutely,” I say.

  But the word feels unsettling down in my gut. This is the second time I’ve lied today, and all of my lies are bubbling around inside me like a boiling stew, getting ready to rise up and blow my lid off. This is not the kind of person I am. This is not the kind of person I want to be.

  “Well then, there is only one way to settle this,” Ms. Tilly says.

  We all stare at her in silence, waiting with baited breath to hear that one way … What if Ms. Tilly tries to expel Cecily? I can’t let that happen. So much for my do-over, huh? I couldn’t even make it two weeks without getting myself into some serious trouble and mucking everything up for everyone.

  “At Limbo Central we practice the Honor System,” Ms. Tilly begins. “We expect you to be honest with us, and if that honesty is challenged, we must give you every opportunity to prove that your word is true before punishing you for its falseness. Cecily, please come with me. If you can demonstrate that you have the power and skill to alter your appearance here and now, we will forget this matter ever happened.”

  I squeeze Cecily’s hand and whisper, “Good luck! Just remember: Think positive thoughts. Push all the negativity out and think of things that make you happy. Think of people you love. I’ll be right there when you come out. I know you can do this. I believe in you.”

  As Cecily and Ms. Tilly walk away, I hang back for a moment to get some facetime with Georgia. There’s no way I’m letting Cecily go down, but before I do what I have to do, Georgia’s going to learn a very important lesson.

  What goes around comes around.

  “Hey, Georgia?” I say calmly, and pull her aside. “I know Cecily is gonna be fine in there, but just in case she cracks under pressure, I have a little surprise for you: I know it was you manipulating the sand to pull me down on the beach that day. I saw you spying on us, and I know you dropped to the ground afterward because you were so tired from breaking all those Limbo Central rules you pretend to care about so much. And Cecily knows it, too. And after everything you’ve pulled, it won’t take long to convince Colin that it was you—that is, if he doesn’t already know it. So, if Cecily gets in any trouble for this, I’m telling Ms. Tilly everything—and you’re going down, too. Remember what she said after what you did in P.E.? Next time she won’t be so forgiving.”

  Then, before she can say a word (and I’m certain she has about a thousand on the tip of her tongue), I turn away. I need to get to the administration building, like, now. I only stayed back to talk to Georgia for a minute or two, so I figure catching up to Ms. Tilly and Cecily won’t be a problem. Except for one minor detail: I have spaghetti for legs.

  Uh-oh.

  How could I be so forgetful? How did I just completely space on the fact that I can’t walk, let alone run?! Poor Cecily. I’m the worst friend. I was so upset with her about taking my spot in the recital and that wasn’t even her fault! But this is my fault. It’s all my fault. And I didn’t even have the courtesy to tell her I was doing it. I didn’t give her a choice. I didn’t ask her if she wanted to break the rules. I just did it, and now she’s going to get punished.

  Then it hits me. I didn’t ask her. She didn’t know! Which means that she didn’t break the rules—only I did! So the only person who has to go down for this is me. If I can just get there already to come clean, everything is going to be fine.

  At least for her.

  Ten minutes later, I drag my sorry, boneless body to the door of Ms. Tilly’s office and knock.

  “Just one moment!” I hear Ms. Tilly call out.

  But I can’t wait another moment. I need to tell her the truth, now. So I burst in.

  “Ms. Chadwick, didn’t you hear me? I said one moment. We are just finishing up in here, please close the door.”

  I look over at Cecily and her face is beaming like she just got an all-expenses-paid trip to Universal Studios.

  Then I take in her costume. Her tights now have blue-a
nd-white stripes, and her skirt has a new blue apron-like top layer with a picture of a bunny rabbit on it.

  She did it. She harnessed the energy around her and she actually pulled it off!

  “Ms. Chadwick, please close the door,” Ms. Tilly says again, this time a little more commanding.

  “Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry.”

  I step away as gracefully as I can so as not to arouse suspicion and go sit down in one of the armchairs in her waiting room. By some miracle, Cecily has proven herself and gotten me out of this horrible bind.

  I owe her my afterlife.

  “Thanks, Ms. Tilly,” Cecily says on her way out of the office.

  “You did it!” I squeal, and get up to give Cecily a hug, but teeter a little in the process.

  “Are you still feeling sick?” she asks, concerned.

  How can she be worried about me right now?!

  “I’m fine,” I say. “Let’s go celebrate YOU!”

  As we walk from the administration building back to the auditorium, I decide to tell Cecily what I’ve done. I don’t want to start our new afterlife friendship with lies. Being honest is the only way to be a good friend. And if she’s mad at me, well, that’s okay because I deserve it.

  And so I tell her.

  “That’s the truth,” I confess. “And I’m really, really sorry I did it. I never wanted to put you in danger. If you tell me you want me to go in there and tell Ms. Tilly everything, I will. Just to prove how sorry I am.”

  After endless minutes of silence, she finally asks, “Why did you do it?”

  “I wanted you to have fun. I wanted you to feel good about yourself and what you’ve accomplished. I knew you were sad about not advancing as quickly as me, and I knew you were bummed about Marcus. I was worried that you would decide not to go and bail at the last minute, and miss out on something really important. And fun.”

  A few more seconds float by. They feel like hours.

  “Okay,” she says, finally.

  “Okay, what?”

  “Just, okay.”

  “Aren’t you mad? Don’t you hate me? Don’t you even want to yell at me a little?” I cry out, in disbelief.

  “Not really. I mean, not unless you want me to.”

  “Come on, Cece. Say something else, anything else.”

  “Okay, then I wish you hadn’t done it, but I understand that you were just trying to help me because you wanted me to be happy. And I appreciate the thought behind it. But next time you want to break the rules with me, ask me first, okay?”

  “Believe me, I won’t be breaking the rules ever again!” I say.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Fine, well, for a really, really, really long time then. At least.” Then I switch subjects. “So … how did you do it, in Ms. Tilly’s office? How did you make it happen?”

  “I thought a lot about you and what you said before I left. About focusing on positive thinking and getting rid of all the negativity. So I erased Georgia from my head, and I thought about how close we’ve become in the last two weeks, and how different it already feels from what it was like before. I wanted you to be proud of me—I wanted to give you a real reason to believe in me the way you said you did.”

  “Cece, I’m so, so glad that you showed Ms. Tilly and that everything worked out for you—and for me—tonight. But, you know, even if you hadn’t been able to pull it off? I would still believe in you. I’ll always have your back. Always.”

  “I know,” she says. “And I think that’s why it worked.”

  I reach out and hug her—a real hug.

  Nailed it!

  “Now, we have to get you some food—and fast,” Cecily says. “You can’t enter the dance-a-thon like this.”

  We head over to the vending machines on the third floor of the main building and buy as many snacks as we can afford with the ten bucks we stuffed in our tutus. After one package of crackers and cheese, one bag of pretzels, one bag of sour cream and onion potato chips, one granola bar, and two Twix bars, I’m feeling significantly more energized.

  And like I might puke.

  Whoops!

  “Are you feeling better now?” Cecily asks.

  “Define ‘better.’”

  “Can you dance?”

  “I think so,” I say, stuffing a few extra snacks in my leotard just in case I need more later. “But there’s also a very good chance I’ll vomit all over you in the process.”

  “One problem at a time, Lou. One problem at a time.”

  * * *

  We re-enter the auditorium about forty-five minutes after we left, and all eyes are on us. Bad news really does travel fast. Even though I know I’m not supposed to be enjoying this, I have to admit it’s a little cool being the center of attention. Right now, we hold the element of surprise in our hands. We are the gossip.

  “Oh my god, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Cecily says playfully as we walk through the wide-eyed crowd.

  “So are you!” I say back. “Besides, have you ever met a dancer who didn’t like being in the spotlight?”

  “Fair enough.”

  We march back up to the dance-a-thon sign-in desk and there are Georgia and Chloe, just where we left them. So is the rest of the gang.

  Only, Georgia looks significantly smaller now.

  Maybe it’s just that she isn’t letting her loud mouth run amuck anymore, but something definitely feels different.

  “What’s the matter, Georgia? Cat got your tongue?” I ask.

  Silence follows. She’s clearly uncomfortable and knows she’s about to get served. That’s what happens when you play with fire.

  I’m about to tell her what’s what, when to my surprise, Cecily begins to speak.

  “Thanks for throwing me under the bus, all for a boy and a chance to get rid of Lucy. I thought tutors and mentees were supposed to have a special bond, or whatever. Maybe the reason you thought I couldn’t possibly have the strength to do this on my own is because you have absolutely no idea what it means to have a true friend in your corner helping you and believing in you. If I had relied on your tutoring, yeah, I never would have been able to do any of this. Because you’re the worst tutor ever. Lucy was the one who helped me. Every day she taught me what she learned from Colin and on her own. If you spent more time being a decent person and less time obsessing over Lucy, maybe you wouldn’t have to work so hard to get people to tolerate you. One day you’ll realize how lonely it is being a person full of jealousy and anger, and maybe then, you’ll start to change how you behave. Until then, I really don’t want to have anything to do with you. Now, give us a number for the dance-a-thon—it’s time to show you what we can really do.”

  Jaws on the ground.

  No, not literally, but they could be and it would be totally understandable. Cecily just served it high, hard, and so far over the net, the play was over before it even began. OUCH!

  “Uh, that was insane,” I say to her, after we get our numbers and move away from the table.

  I am already starting to feel stronger after the seven-course vending machine meal I ate, but watching Cecily stand up for herself like that and tell Georgia off just lifts my spirit even more.

  I’m so ready to kill her in this dance-a-thon.

  No pun intended. Times two.

  “Girl, I’m impressed,” Mia says to Cecily, coming over to us with the rest of the group in tow. “We were so worried! But, I mean, we knew you’d be fine. Georgia loves stirring up trouble, but we knew you guys would never break the rules like that.”

  I feel a pang of guilt down in my stomach, and my eyes catch Cecily’s for a moment. But I brush it away as quickly as I can. It’s time for new beginnings.

  Operation do-over.

  “We’re all really glad that you’re not in trouble,” Marcus says to Cecily.

  My heart flips pancake-style inside my chest.

  “Thanks, Marcus,” Cecily says. “I really like your costume.”

  “I really wante
d to go as Ron and Hermione, but Riley wanted to do Harry and Ginny.”

  “I would have picked Ron and Hermione, too,” Cecily says, flashing a little smile my way. “They’re the cooler couple … but, oh, well. Maybe next year.”

  Everyone keeps chatting away—everyone except Colin, who has yet to join us. I look back over at the sign-in table, and there he is. He and Georgia are arguing, and this time, there’s no mistaking the outcome.

  Georgia storms off in a huff, leaving Chloe alone and sad. She keeps staring over at the group, and I decide to take this opportunity free of Georgia to go say something to her.

  “Chloe, you know you don’t have to behave the way Georgia tells you to,” I say.

  “If I don’t, she won’t like me. And she’s my friend.”

  “True friends don’t force other friends to do things under the threat of not being friends anymore,” I say. “True friends want you to be your own person, make your own decisions, and have your own opinions about things. And they support those.”

  “I don’t know if I have opinions about things,” Chloe says, and I immediately feel a rush of relief that I decided to come over here.

  “Yes you do, Chloe. Georgia just doesn’t let you share any of them.”

  And then I walk away. I want her to sit with that conversation for a bit, let it simmer. I’m not going to tell Chloe what to do like Georgia does. If she wants to see what life without her evil stepmother is like, she knows where to find us.

  Just then, Ms. Tilly gets up on stage and takes the microphone. “Students of Limbo Central, welcome to the Ghostcoming Dance-a-Thon!”

  Everyone cheers.

  “We are thrilled that our Limbo Central football team won the game against North Limbo yesterday!” she continues. “Congratulations to the team! Now, without further ado, I will hand this over to our Ghostcoming chair, Georgia Sinclaire, to tell us about the dance-a-thon rules.”

  As Georgia climbs the stairs to the stage, someone appears behind me and whispers in my ear, “Hi!”

  “Oh my god!” I say, jumping a little. I look back to see that it’s Colin. “You seriously scared me.”

  “Well, I am a ghost—it’s what we do.”

  “Ha-ha.”