by West, Tara
“Look at you, Krysta.” Narrowing her gaze, she waved an invisible circle around my body. “You’re turning into one of those runway skeletons.”
“You mean fashion models.” Tossing my toast on the plate, I planted both fists on the table. “They know, like I do, that beauty takes sacrifice.” I spoke each syllable with clipped precision, knowing I’d need my full arsenal of attitude to keep up with AJ.
Didn’t work.
She had the nerve to laugh, but it sounded more like a super loud, annoying burst of air. “What’s so pretty about looking like a flagpole with collagen- induced lips?”
Closing my eyes, I focused on my breathing. In, out, in, out. I should have known better than to try and top AJ’s attitude. Maybe a little guilt would work instead.
Opening my eyes, I fixed her with a steady stare. “I don’t dog your lifestyle, AJ.”
“That’s because I eat healthy.” AJ’s eyes and head rolled in her signature major attitude head- bob.
The heavy sinking in my gut told me this was a losing battle, but I kept up the fight. “Greasy bacon is not healthy.”
Face contorted in a mask of anger, she threw her hands in the air. A move I’d seen her use many times when she was yelling at one of her teammates for a stupid play. “It’s better than starvation. Remember, I tried eating like a rabbit and I passed out on the court.”
“Well, I don’t play sports, so I don’t need to worry.” No longer in the mood for food, I pushed back from the table and started to rise.
AJ rose along with me, pointing a finger at my chest. “Of course you don’t play sports. You don’t have the energy.”
Hands on hips, I tried imitating her head bobble. “I biked all the way to the lake last night.”
Folding her arms across her chest, AJ smirked. “Yeah, and I bet it sucked to be you.”
The air whooshed from my lungs and I almost stumbled back into my chair. Yeah, it did suck to be me. It really sucked.
My mom left me, my dad ignored me, my crush pitied me. I was just a girl with way more problems than the average teen. How was I going to stop a mall or bring a dead spirit back to the light? The worst of it was that the only two friends I could really count on at the moment were dead.
Fighting back the tears that threatened to ruin my freshly applied mascara, I decided to go wait for the bus. AJ was acting like a major butthead and I didn’t need to take it any longer.
As I turned to leave, a hand reached across the table and held my arm in a strong grip. I looked over my shoulder to see AJ’s sharp gaze had softened to a sweet puppy dog expression.
Letting go of my arm, she motioned to my chair as she sat down. “I’m not trying to piss you off, Krysta. All I’m saying is that you need to eat a little more. It’s not healthy to be so skinny.”
I don’t know why I followed her command, but I sat. Maybe it was because my legs were still wobbly from the weight of the world on my back. “Looking good is healthy for my self-esteem.” I spoke evenly, although something in the back of my mind questioned my own judgment. Could AJ have been right? Should I eat more?
AJ shook her head. “If you had self-esteem, you wouldn’t need to starve yourself.” Her voice softened and she flashed just a hint of a smile. “And you’d still look good with a few extra pounds.”
“Whatever.” I meant to deliver that one word with a silencing punch, but I spoke without conviction. Like my conscience had decided to let her win.
“I’m just trying to look out for you, Krysta. I don’t want you to get sick. Besides, guys don’t like stick girls.”
The image of Bryon scowling at me from across the table at Mocha Madness flashed through my mind. My body tensed as I recalled his words. ‘Don’t you worry you might be a little too skinny?’
Was AJ right? Guys didn’t like skinny girls? Looking down at my one wedge of half-eaten toast, I sighed. Maybe my shaking limbs and the hollow ache in my stomach weren’t just due to stress.
Maybe I should eat.
Reaching across the table, I grabbed a few slices of bacon and put them on my plate.
AJ’s smile nearly stretched ear to ear.
I forced myself not to smile back. Though she was trying to look out for me, I couldn’t shake the sting of her words, comparing me to a skeleton. Sure I was a size one, but I’d always thought skinny looked good on me.
Didn’t it?
****
“Hey.”
I saw him coming from several lockers away, his eyes focused on me. My first thought was, ‘why?’ I mean, after we shared probably the worst study session in history, why would he want to speak to the poor, skinny chick again? I was expecting him to ignore me until we got to chemistry and then to beg Mrs. Jackson to give him a new partner.
“Hey.” I half-heartedly grinned and then held in my breath while I waited for his response.
He cocked his head to the side. “You know we still have a test this Friday.”
My jaw slackened and my tongue felt like a lead- weight in my mouth as I struggled for something to say. Was he hinting to study with me again? His nearness wasn’t helping my brain function. He was wearing an unusual musk today and I could almost feel the heat of it jump off his body and crawl up my flesh. Inhaling deeper, I had to repress a sigh. His smell reminded me of a pastry or a cinnamon cookie.
“Yeah,” I swallowed a nervous ball of energy. “Two more days.”
One brow arched and his lip tilted in the cutest smile ever. “Wanna study tonight?”
“Yes!” I blurted before biting on my lower lip. I was acting way too eager.
Gawd, he must think I’m a total dork now.
Clearing my throat, I forced my voice to sound much more casual, like I didn’t think Bryon Thomas was the hottest guy in school. “I mean, where? I’m not staying at my apartment anymore.”
His brows drew together. “Why not?”
“My dad thinks I’ll be safer at AJ’s.” I shrugged, pretending it didn’t matter that Dad still refused to allow me back home. This murder worked out to his advantage. Now he could get drunk and have his little playthings come over any time without the annoying teenager in the way.
“But they caught the guy.” Bryon’s comment sounded way too much like a question.
He’d really think I was a loser if he knew my own dad didn’t want me around.
“Yeah, I know.” I faked a smile. “But he still wants me at her house until this all blows over.”
That wasn’t the total truth. After Dad found out about my visit to the lake, he and Mrs. Dawson decided to postpone my coming home indefinitely. Since he worked nights, they were afraid I’d try it again. My apartment wasn’t much, but it was still my home and I missed it.
“You can study at my house tonight.” Bryon’s smile softened and a hint of sadness flashed in his pale blue gaze. “My dad said it’s okay.”
I couldn’t repress the sigh of frustration that escaped my lips. He still pitied me. Just like the other night when he saw my rundown apartment and when I refused to order food. He was probably only keeping me as a partner because he felt sorry for me.
“All right.” Unable to look into his pitying eyes, I spoke while playing with the frayed end on the strap of my worn book bag. “I have to do a little research first.”
“For another class?”
“No, not really.” Keeping my gaze down, I shook my head. “Just for a community service project.”
“I’ve never seen you at Student Council. I didn’t know you did community service.”
“Neither did I,” I groaned, unable to comprehend how I’d gotten stuck with grave recovery.
“So what’s the project?”
Looking into his direct gaze, I was relieved to see the pity had washed away and he looked almost interested in what I had to say. With wide eyes, he silently watched me while I stumbled for the right words to say.
“Well, it’s kind of hard to explain.” How was I supposed to tell him I was trying to ruin thousands of tee
nagers’ lives by halting their fashion paradise?
All for who?
Oh yeah, the dead people who talk to me in the toilet.
“Do you want to do the research at my house?”
“Uhhh, maybe I’ll just use AJ’s computer first and then I’ll come over.” The last thing I needed was Bryon looking over my shoulder, asking questions like ‘Why does it matter to you that there are grave sites on the mall property?’
“Okay.” He shrugged. “But if you need any help, let me know. I need thirty community service hours this semester for StuCo.”
Last time I checked, Student Council wasn’t into doing community service for ghosts. The canned food drive this Thanksgiving went to people who were destitute, not dead.
“I’ll keep you in mind.” I nodded, maybe way too much, like I was trying to convince myself, as well as him, that he could help me.
But he couldn’t.
In fact, I didn’t see how anyone could help me. I was on my own with this problem, as well as a million others.
AJ was right. It sucked to be me.
****
“What are you doing here?”
I’d opened AJ’s front door to see Sophie clutching a briefcase to her chest, with her large, infectious grin. One look into her smiling green eyes and I couldn’t help but smile back.
That girl was way too perky. Something she used to say about me only a few weeks ago.
As I opened the door wider, she practically flew past me on a rush of air.
“Your negative thoughts were rattling my brain all the way home on the bus today.” Tossing her briefcase on the polished coffee table with a thud, she threw herself onto Mrs. Dawson’s expensive, antique couch.
I cringed.
We couldn’t afford to have nice stuff at my place, but I knew AJ’s mom would be mad if she saw Sophie scratching her furniture. Good thing AJ was at a softball game and her parents were watching her brother play tennis.
So I was left alone.
Well, with the exception of the butt-licking dog, Patches. All he really did was sit by the front door and munch on old butt mildew while he waited for his favorite family member, Mrs. Dawson, to get home.
Staying here didn’t seem much different from my apartment, so I didn’t understand why I couldn’t have gone back home.
“Yeah, I’ve been upset lately.” Kneeling by the coffee table, I carefully rubbed out a dirt smudge made by Sophie’s grimy briefcase.
“As if I couldn’t tell.” Tossing her head back, she rubbed her temples with dramatic sweeping motions. “My head is throbbing from your negative energy.”
“Sorry to be ruining your life, too.” I shrugged. “Oh, geez, there go your feelings again.” Sliding off the couch, she kneeled beside me. Slanting a soft smile, she swept her long chestnut hair behind one shoulder. “Look, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I came to help you.”
“Help me?”
I was stunned by her offer. I mean, yeah, Sophie was one of my two best friends, but I’d never really relied on her for much help. There was that one time a few months ago when she’d channeled the thoughts of my dead Grammy, but usually, whenever I had a problem, I faced it alone. That was how I was raised to deal with things.
Besides, she and AJ were different and I didn’t think they totally understood me. Yeah, we all had freakish gifts, but mine was way different. They had mind powers. I had a curse.
They had something else I didn’t have.
A family.
They woke up to breakfast and came home to dinner. They had parents to help them with homework. They went on family vacations and had family gatherings.
Their home life was totally different than mine.
Before, I didn’t mind, but, honestly, it was beginning to bother me. Not that I didn’t want them to be happy. AJ and Sophie were great friends, but I couldn’t help feeling that our differences were drawing them closer together and pulling me further away.
Maybe they didn’t notice as much because their lives were so perfect, but I was beginning to feel more and more like the outsider.
Krysta, the poor kid with the drunk father.
“It would be so easy to pop into your head right now. Your mind is screaming for me to read it.”
Gasping, I looked into Sophie’s hardened stare. “Don’t you dare.” I was so absorbed in feeling sorry for myself that I had momentarily forgotten my mind-reader friend was kneeling beside me.
She narrowed her gaze. “Shut your brain off before I go in.”
Sophie used to have difficulty turning her mind reading ability on and off, but she was getting much better at it. AJ made her promise she wouldn’t jump into our heads without permission, but sometimes our bad moods still projected on Sophie, making her depressed as well.
“I can’t help it.” I gnawed on my lower lip, eating away the last remnants of shimmery moisturizing lip gloss.
“I can tell.” She wagged a finger. “I’m getting a really big sense of self-pity, Krysta.”
“Yeah, well, it sucks to be me right now.” Without even thinking, I had coined AJ’s phrase as my new motto. It fit my life pretty well.
“I brought my laptop.” Leaning over the coffee table, she unzipped the big, dirt-stained bag and pulled out her computer. “Do you want me to help you with your research?”
Before Sophie had arrived, I had been staring at the empty Internet browser on AJ’s computer for over ten minutes, not really knowing where to begin.
“Do you seriously want to help me stop a mall?”
“Krysta, I’m not into clothes like you are.”
Leaning closer, she squeezed my hand, holding me with an earnest gaze. “The real question is…do you want to stop it?”
All at once, the warmth from her touch seeped into my bones, and for the first time in a while, I felt like a living person really cared about me. Looking down at our joined hands, my eyes filled with unshed tears.
The human contact was nice, something I had been missing in my sucky life.
“I have to.” I said while pulling away, afraid holding her hand would eventually turn me into a leaky water hose and ruin my mascara. “My friends will lose their graves if I don’t.”
“Do they really need a place to stay?” Wrinkling her brow, Sophie tilted her head like Patches did whenever he farted and didn’t know where the sound was coming from. “I mean…they’re dead, aren’t they?”
“That’s not the point.” Fighting the urge to throw my hands in the air, I clenched my fists at my sides. Ed’s tantrums were threatening to rub off on me. “We’re desecrating their burial site. People don’t stop having emotions after they die.”
Choking on that last syllable, I turned away from Sophie. The thought of Sunny’s hollow, aching eyes seared through my memory. Her boyfriend’s betrayal was so painful her soul fell into an empty void, a dark abyss.
“You know what, Krysta?” with barely a whisper at my back, Sophie placed a hand on my shoulder.
“What?” A single tear slipped down my cheek.
“You’re a good friend.”
“Thanks.” I was unable to say more.
For a long moment, we sat there in silence while I swallowed the rising tide of emotion that threatened to burst free.
Tapping me on the shoulder, Sophie cleared her throat. “My mom told me something about the National Historic Preservation Act. She said some cemeteries can be protected.”
Startled, I turned.
She was wearing a plastered on smile, the kind friends use when they’re trying to cheer each other up.
“Some cemeteries?” A spark of hope kindled in the hollow of my chest.
“Yeah.” She nodded while toying with her fingers. “They have to qualify first.”
“How do we do that?”
Sophie turned on her computer and plugged in the little phone receptor. “Mom gave me the website to The National Registry of Historic Places.”
“Let’s go there,” I
squealed.
I’d never heard of this registry, but maybe it could help me save my friends’ graves.
With a few clicks of her mouse, Sophie began typing. “Okay,” she asked while reading though a lengthy checklist on the screen, “did your ghosts die at least fifty years ago?”
Recalling Gertrude’s out-of-style bun and shawl, I stifled a laugh. “Oh, yeah. They’re so last century.”
Keeping her eyes glued to the monitor, Sophie scrolled down. “Are your ghosts famous, like Billy the Kid or something?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. Ed was grumpy enough. Maybe he was some kind of outlaw, but I needed to ask him and their spirits were nowhere in sight.
At that moment, as if Sophie’s question had summoned their spirits, Ed and Gertrude floated into the living room.
“Hey!” I called up to them. “Are you guys famous?”
“What?” Falling to her bottom, Sophie scooted back toward the couch. “They’re here?” she squeaked while pulling her knees to her chest.
“Please don’t pull an AJ on me.” I rolled my eyes, holding in my laughter as my friend cowered in the corner like a frightened mouse. “They’re not going to possess you or anything.”
Ed scratched his beard while speaking through a frown. “I don’t reckon we’re famous.”
Gertrude nudged him in the ribcage. “I won twelve blue ribbons for my peach preserves.” Tilting her chin up, Gertrude looked kind of cute for a dead old lady.
Ed nodded. “Gerty had the best jam in three counties.”
“I don’t think jam counts, Ed,” I sighed. “That doesn’t make you famous.”
Keeping her eyes focused on the ceiling about two feet from where Ed and Gertrude were hovering, Sophie scooted back to the coffee table and ducked behind her laptop. “Is there a historic building on the site?” She scrolled down the screen with a shaky hand.
“Ain’t nothin’ there but that oak tree,” Ed bellowed. “And now that’s gone, too. They done tore down our house years ago.”
“No,” I answered.
“What about a historic battle?” Keeping her eyes glued to the screen, she chewed on her bottom lip.
“No,” I responded as they shook their heads.
“Hmmmm.” Sophie’s lips looked locked in a vice grip.
