Ever Lost (Secret Affinity Book 2)

by Melissa MacVicar

  “Totally.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of course.”

  A chorus of apologetic words and looks flow from the girls, except for Brittany. She doesn’t look very sorry at all.

  “Well, don’t be too sad about what’s his name. I see you already have Mateo foaming at the mouth.” Brittany raises her perfectly plucked brows and purses her full lips. Soft brown curls hang around her shoulders—the kind she had to get up at five thirty to create before school.

  I couldn’t fault her too much for that. I spent an hour straightening mine last night.

  “Brit, stop,” Kira said. “She can’t help it if Teo’s like a dog in heat.”

  Obviously, Brit was once a Mateo conquest. I don’t take the bait, though. Instead, I smile and pull out my lunch. I don’t plan on getting into a bitch fight on my first day, no matter how obnoxious Brittany is.

  “Where do I buy a drink?” I ask Kira.

  “Right over there.” She points at a cashier.

  I attract a lot of looks while getting my vitamin water. Even the lunch lady, who’s also black, gives me the once-over before handing me my change. I’m relieved when I get back to my seat, where I settle in to listen to the chatter.

  “He’s moodier than ever.”

  “I heard it might be Helena. He always picks the prettiest senior.”

  “It was one senior. One year. There is nothing always about it.”

  “I wonder if she’d go for him…”

  This conversation definitely sounds sketchy, but I decide to ask about it anyway. “Who are you talking about?”

  Brittany answers, “Mr. Fraser. He teaches art history. Do you have him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, watch out. Rumor has it he had an affair with a student last year.”

  “They might still be together,” Anna says. “They can date now, right? Since she graduated?” Anna’s so petite she could pass for a twelve-year-old.

  “Someone saw them this summer at Nick’s Roast Beef. Why would they go there when they’d definitely be seen?” Blair asks.

  Kira rolls her eyes. “Just stop. They didn’t go to Nick’s. It’s all lies.”

  “They definitely broke up,” Brittany says decisively. “Now that she’s at college, what would be the point? I’m sure she’s off breaking some poor professor’s heart at Middlebury now.”

  “All these rumors and he’s still here?” I ask.

  This kind of unfettered lechery on the part of a teacher seems strange, especially at a school like this. Teachers can’t just go around hooking up with students. They’re supposed to get fired for that sort thing.

  “Yeah. Because he’s the headmaster’s son,” Anna says.

  “Do you think he’s hot?” Blair asks me.

  I try to remember what Mr. Fraser looks like, but all I can think about is how tired my hand is from taking notes in his class. “No. Not really,” I answer.

  “Well, the new math teacher is definitely not hot and definitely not young,” Brittany says.

  “Ugh! I heard,” Anna says. “He’s really strict, too.”

  “I don’t have him. I have Mrs. Gibson,” I say.

  “You are so lucky!” Blair tells me.

  The girls continue to babble about which teachers they have, who likes who, who should like who, and a million other inane things. I want to ask about chorus, but trying to get a word in edgewise with this group is tricky. Before I get the chance, the sick, cold feeling of a ghost visit creeps up my spine. I was hoping Drippy was a stay-in-the-mansion kind of ghost, but apparently, that’s not the case. My ears buzz, and pins and needles shoot up my arms. Drippy is back.

  Chapter 2

  “Do you see? Do you see what’s happened?” Drippy asks.

  He’s several feet away from the table, flailing his arms as if he’s treading water. The stench of stagnant water hits my nose. I avert my eyes. I don’t know why I always think ignoring ghosts is going to work, but my first instinct is always to play dumb.

  “What class are you going to?” Kira asks me as she zips up her Vera Bradley lunch satchel.

  “Um, physics, I think.”

  Brittany stands, crumpling her trash into a ball. “I have physics now, too. Come on. I’ll take you.”

  Brittany has frenemy written all over her. She’s definitely one of those girls who’ll make nicey-nice just before she stabs the person in the back.

  “Tell them what happened! Tell them!” the ghost shrieks. His arms have changed from stiff and flailing to long and snakelike. They wrap around him, tugging and twisting his wet clothes, as if he’s trying to take them off.

  My heart races in my chest, my knees weakening. This ghost is going to make Layton a living nightmare for me until I can send him to the great beyond. But because I have to, I walk right past him, ignoring his flapping and hollering. I can’t wait to tell my parents. When they hear this, they’ll let me go home. They have to let me go home.

  My dad has a house this time. Usually, he lives in apartments, but the country club where he works gave him the carriage house to stay in as part of his contract. Partially made of stone, the structure sits at the start of the long driveway leading into the Northwick Club. I love the cozy front porch with its green columns and rocking chairs. Dad said it’s built in Craftsman style.

  After Kira drops me off, I wait the rest of the afternoon for Dad to return home. I’m not used to his schedule yet or his workaholic ways. He shows up around seven thirty after several texts asking about dinner. I don’t even realize I was feeling lonely until he eases his six-foot-two frame through the front door. He’s carrying a bag containing two steaming boxes of stir-fry. Having a dad who’s a bar and restaurant manager means a lot of our meals are free and come in Styrofoam boxes.

  “Hi, sweetie,” he says. “How was it?”

  “It was okay,” I answer, rising from the sofa to set the table.

  “So tell me all about it,” Dad says, once we’re eating. “I want all the details. Or deets, as you like to call them.” His mahogany eyes wrinkle around the edges when he smiles.

  “You really want to know?” I ask, stabbing a piece of chicken and popping it into my mouth.

  “Of course.”

  I stare at him for a few seconds, trying to decide if I want to tell him now. All day, I was planning to drop the wet ghost bomb on him, but now that the moment is finally here, I’m not sure I should do it. “There’s a ghost. At the school.”

  “Jade…” He sighs, setting down his fork and hanging his head.

  “What? It’s true.”

  “This isn’t going to work, you know. Every time you want to get your way, you can’t use the ghosts.”

  I snort. “So you think I’m lying? Every time I see a ghost now, you’re going to accuse me of lying?”

  “No. But this is a little too convenient, don’t you think? And dramatic?”

  “But true. Believe me, it’s the truth. Do I have to call Gram?”

  “No! You are not to call your grandmother.”

  “Why not? She’ll believe me. I have to help him or something. That’s what I do now. That’s what Gram said.”

  “Your grandfather has been very sick. Unless you’re in danger, I don’t want you to involve her. She has enough going on.”

  Crap! I wasn’t thinking about Papa. He was in the hospital with pneumonia two weeks ago, and Gram is still trying to nurse him back to health. They live in an assisted-living facility in Baltimore because Papa had a stroke a few years ago.

  “I don’t think I’m in danger,” I mumble, feeling guilty.

  “Okay. Did you make any new friends? Besides Kira?” Dad asks, clearly trying to change the subject.

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah. A His
panic guy who asked me if I’m on a basketball scholarship.”

  Dad runs a hand over his closely cropped afro. I’m either extremely exasperating, or he’s just at a loss for words. Probably both. He may be about to yell or about to cry—it’s a toss-up at this point. Dad tends to have a poker face, though, and I haven’t lived with him since I was twelve, so figuring out what he’s thinking at any given moment is going to take me some time.

  “Jade, please give this a chance. Do you hate me so much that you can’t at least give it chance?”

  My heart sinks into my stomach. His response is worse than yelling. Instead of anger, he gives me hurt feelings mixed with disappointment, otherwise known as the ultimate parental guilt trip. I don’t want to hurt my father; I just want my old life back. I realize now that Dad is taking this personally. He thinks my wanting to go back to Nantucket is a reflection of my feelings about living with him. And even though he’s wrong, I have to stop my complaining. I can’t hurt Dad. He’s great.

  “It’s not you, Dad. I just miss my friends. My life. And now there’s a ghost. You can understand that, right?”

  “Yes, but you haven’t even given it a chance. Your mother and I want this for you.”

  The mention of my mother makes my face flush. She and I aren’t exactly on good terms right now. In fact, I think maybe the ghost who possessed me at my stepfamily’s house, Fair-Ever, was right when she called Mom a she-devil. Lydia must have seen the side of my mother that would send her own daughter away to protect her new marriage.

  “I just don’t know what I’m going to do if I’m attacked in front of everyone. You’ve never seen what happens, but the ghosts can be really bad.”

  Dad sighs and reaches for his lemonade. “I’ll talk to your mother about this, Jade. But I want you to keep an open mind. Please. Try to give it a chance?”

  I sigh. “Okay, I’ll try. But don’t bother telling Mom. She won’t care.”

  “That is not true.”

  “Yeah, if you say so…”

  Dad fixes me with a stare. “It isn’t. I know you’re sad about moving, but we both love you very much. Now tell me more about your day. What position are you playing at soccer?”

  From the way he’s looking at me, I know I need to stop being such a downer about everything. “Defense. And the running is really hard. Chorus was great, though.”

  Dad smiles. I love it when he smiles like that, as if he thinks I’m the smartest, prettiest, most amazing girl in the whole world. I’ve dreamed about getting to live with him, too, and now that it’s finally happened, I’m being way too ungrateful.

  Watching him as we finish our meal, I notice how he’s aged since he moved away. A gray tinge has developed around his sideburns, the veins show in his hands, and there’s a new crease in his forehead. I think about the attributes I got from him and the way they combined with my mother’s features. My skin is a very light brown, my eyes hazel, and my hair wavy, except when I straighten it. When Mom, Dad, and I are together, my looks make sense, and where I came from is crystal clear. But when one of my parents is missing from the equation, people often stare or sneak glances or generally try to figure out what box to put me in. Charlie says they stare at me because I’m so beautiful, but I think that’s just Charlie being flattering. He’s my boyfriend, so it’s kind of his job to say sweet things like that.

  I stand and take my half-eaten stir-fry to the sink.

  “Since when don’t you finish your dinner?” Dad asks. “Especially when it involves soy sauce?”

  When I was little, I used to try to drink soy sauce straight out of the bottle. “Since I grew up, Dad. Surely you noticed I’m not eight anymore?”

  “You’re not?”

  Staying mad at him is impossible, so I smile weakly at his lame joke. “I have homework.” I rinse my plate and set it in the dishwasher.

  “Okay. I can help you with anything but math,” he calls after me as I take the stairs two at a time.

  “Okay!” I call back, but once in my room, I don’t pull out any books. Instead, I close my door and text Charlie.

  Can you Skype?

  I lay on my bed, pulling my quilt up around me for comfort. Gram made the quilt for me. I’ve had it since I was little. It’s colorful and has wheel patterns on it, just like my key.

  Yeah. Get on. I’ll call u.

  I wait for the Skype sound to bubble out of my tablet, and my heart jumps a little when it does. Charlie is more than just my boyfriend. He’s my friend in almost the same way that Ally is. We’re bonded, connected, almost unbreakable after everything we went through over the summer with everyone finding out I can see ghosts and me being possessed by one. Plus, he’s my first love. I can say that now for sure because I’ve never felt this way about a boy, and Charlie told me he’s never felt this way about anyone, either. We even said the word love. I love you. It’s amazing and terrifying all at the same time to feel this way.

  So when he appears on the screen, his dark hair flopping over his eyes and a big, dimpled grin on his face, all my bad mood and frustration filter away.

  I smile. “Hey.”

  Seeing the blue walls of his bedroom and the shelves filled with trophies behind him makes me homesick. It’s weird that I miss Fair-Ever because I hated it there at first—ghost infested as it was—but now it’s my home, and seeing Charlie there arouses emotions in me I’m unprepared for.

  “How was it?” Charlie asks.

  “Okay. Weird, but okay.”

  “Was everyone nice?” Charlie hunches over in his desk chair, hands clasped, head tilted to one side.

  “Yeah. They were okay. It’s just really different. Like all the summer kids in one place. All pretty and preppy and so… you know.”

  “Yeah. I figured it would be like that.”

  “Plus, I had my first soccer practice, which totally sucked. I thought PE was bad.” I roll my eyes.

  “Sorry,” he says. But his lips twitch into an almost smile.

  “I’m sure you think it’s funny, seeing as you’re like the most athletic person in the world, but it sucks for me because I’m totally not.”

  “It’s not funny. I’d love to come and see you play. I think you’re more athletic than you give yourself credit for.”

  “Definitely not. How was it there today? Did anyone ask about me?”

  “Yeah. A few people. I miss you like crazy. Do you think there’s any chance your dad will want you to come back?”

  “I don’t think so. He gets all hurt whenever I bring it up.”

  The look of disappointment on Charlie’s face makes my heart sink. I make a split-second decision not to tell him about the ghost yet. He’ll only worry and possibly try to come to Manchester to protect me or something. Freaking Charlie out is the last thing I want to do.

  “Yeah, your mom’s being weird, too. I can tell she misses you. Whenever I mention your name, she gets this sad look and tries to change the subject.”

  I scoff, “Yeah. I’m sure she’s really sad.”

  “No, I can tell they feel kinda bad. I don’t try to make them feel better, either. And with Brendan gone, it’s weird being here alone with them. I hate it so much, and I keep hoping they’ll change their minds and let you come home.”

  “I wouldn’t plan on it, but at least they have to let me come home sometimes. For long weekends and breaks. I’m going to start bugging my dad now for Columbus Day weekend.”

  “I hope he’ll let you come. It seems really far off, but it’s better than nothing.” Charlie squints at me and leans closer to the screen. “You look really pretty. Did anyone hit on you?”

  “Charlie…” I feel my cheeks warm. I look away and shake my head. “No. This one guy asked me if I was on a basketball scholarship, though. Rude, huh?”

  “Serious
ly? That is so ignorant. Do you have a lot of classes with him?”

  “Just precalc and chorus. He’s fine, though. Harmless, I think.”

  “I wish you were here taking precalc. I could totally help you when it gets hard.”

  I sigh. “I know. Me, too.” I curl up on my side, getting closer to the screen. I wish I could hug Charlie right through the Wi-Fi and fall asleep in his arms like we did so many nights during the summer. “Maybe you can help me on Skype?” I smile sweetly at him.

  We chat about unimportant stuff for another hour, then we reluctantly say good-bye. After we sign off, I wonder if I technically lied to Charlie about Mateo. If Charlie knew about Mateo hitting on me, he’d get really jealous, and Charlie getting jealous is a bad idea. So I tell myself that I sort of protected him from himself. Besides, he truly has nothing to worry about. I love Charlie like the earth loves the rain, like a horse loves to run, like… well, I love him tons.

  I’m just about to get out my math homework when my phone vibrates. Assuming it’s a text from Charlie, I smile and pick up my phone from the nightstand. My heart sinks, however, when I see it’s my mother.

  Will you call me please? You can’t avoid me forever.

  Great. Just when I’m finally in a halfway good mood.

  Chapter 3

  Mom picks up on the first ring. “Hi, Jade.” She sounds bright and cheery, as if putting on a good face will erase how much I hate her right now.

  “Hi.”

  “So tell me all about it.”

  “It was fine.”

  “Did you make some new friends?”

  “Yeah. Sort of.”

  “Well, that’s good, right? And the chorus teacher, how was she?”

  “Good. I sang for her, and she knew I was a mezzo-soprano right away.”

  “Great! So you like her?”

  “Yeah, so far.”

  “I saw on the website that the select choir takes great trips, like to New Orleans and San Francisco. One year, they even went to Italy. Did she say where you’d be going this year?”