After a minute or two of tuning, Logan shifted his position and gave me the shy smile I hadn’t seen since we were ten. “Ready?”
As soon as he hit the first jangled chord, we knew something was wrong.
“Huh.” Logan flexed his fingers, then did another quick strum. “My hands are tingly.” His speech was slower than usual. “Maybe worn out from the show. Sorry about that.”
“Just play what you can. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”
“Yes, it does.” His voice gained a hard edge, obliterating the slur. “I promise tomorrow night it will be. The song, I mean.” He switched on the CD player with the remote control. “Go pick something while I put this away.”
I fished out the first nonpunk CD I could find, one from a new Danish band with fuzzy guitars and a lumbering beat that echoed in my gut. The music made the room feel like it was on a different planet from the rest of the house. I closed my eyes for a moment and let the wall of sound soothe my mind.
Logan snapped the catches on his guitar case, then stood, wavering as his knees straightened.
“I have a present for you.” He glanced down at his body. “And you get to unwrap it.”
Ew, I thought.
Then his eyes widened. “No, I don’t mean that!” he said. “Well, yeah, that too, but not yet.” He took my hands and placed my fingers on his shirt’s top button. “Ready, go.”
I tried to keep my hands from shaking as they unbuttoned his shirt. His lips folded under his teeth, and I knew he was as nervous as I was.
I reached up to push the shirt off his left shoulder. That’s when I saw it.
Over his heart, a tattoo with four letters written in a Celtic font:
AURA.
My hand froze. “God.”
“Do you like it?”
I couldn’t breathe. It felt like I’d never breathe again. “When did you get this?”
“Last week. It was my birthday present to myself. And no, I don’t expect you to get a matching one. Your aunt would have a stroke. After she finished killing me.”
I traced the smooth black lines where my name met his flesh. “Does your mom know?”
“No one knows, except me and you. My dad’ll probably have a heart attack when he finds out, but that’s why we have the defibrillator.”
I didn’t laugh. Mr. Keeley had had too many close calls. This cruise had been on his cardiologist’s orders.
“I know you’re worried,” Logan said. “You think the second I sign a deal, I’ll turn into some kind of man-slut.” He put his hands over mine, pressing my palms against his chest. “You’ve always been the only one, and you always will be.”
I knew I should step away, tell him he was crazy, that we were too young to talk like that. But I wanted this crazy more than anything.
“I love you, Logan.” I breathed in his scent, sweet and heady as hot cider. “Happy birthday.”
“So far, yeah.” He bent over, picked me up, and stumbled to the bed. He knocked his shin against the frame, and I spilled out of his grip. I was laughing before my face hit the pillow.
By the time I flipped onto my back, he had crashed next to me, arms and legs everywhere. “Sorry,” he said. “I suck at this.”
I couldn’t stop laughing, mostly at myself for being so afraid. This was Logan, after all, the boy I’d thrown snowballs at and chased ice cream trucks with. Not Logan the rock star.
He stretched out beside me, his eyes sharper now. “Don’t tell me no this time, Aura. Please. Don’t make me stop.”
As my laughter died, my thumb traced a trembling line along his bottom lip. “I won’t.”
Logan kissed me, before and after removing my shirts, and told me I was beautiful. Unlike the last time, he was slow and patient, and when his fingers brushed my skin, I melted instead of freezing. I could feel our happiness radiating off each other in waves, like the music pulsing from Logan’s speakers.
But then his touch grew heavy and his kisses sloppy, making me squirm.
“What the hell?” he muttered as he fumbled with my bra clasp.
“I think you twist it. The lady at Victoria’s Secret said it was easy.” I examined it in the dim light, trying to remember how I’d put it on.
But Logan was staring at his hand, not at the clasp.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him.
He wiggled his fingers. “I can’t feel my face.”
“Oh my God, are you sick? Should I get Mickey?”
He laughed. “No, no, no-definitely no.” He slumped back onto his pillow. “I’m just wasted. It’s really hitting me.” He looked at the ceiling, then shut his eyes hard. “Wow.”
“How wasted?”
He spoke slowly. “I have absolutely no feeling in my extremities.”
A horrible thought hit me. “All your extremities?”
Logan gave me a guilty look. “Sorry. I guess that’s why they call it Liquid Stupid.” His lashes fluttered. “Man, this is hard-core.” He laughed again-high-pitched, like a stoner.
“How could you do this to me?” I sat up, afraid I would punch him if I didn’t get out of range. “I was ready. Yeah, I was scared, but I was ready, Logan. And now you can’t even-”
“We can try again tomorrow.” He touched the half-empty glass on the nightstand. “Hey, you should have some too, get floaty with me.” His voice drifted off. “I bet this is better than sex.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know, would I?” I kicked his foot. “They don’t call it Liquid Stupid because it makes you stupid. It’s what you have to be to drink it in the first place.”
“Said I was sorry.” After a moment, Logan’s eyes opened wide, like he was forcing them. “I have an idea. Help me up.”
I pulled his arm until he was sitting on the side of the bed.
“I’ll take a shower,” he slurred, “wake myself up.” He pushed himself to his feet and staggered to the dresser. “I’ll make it all better. We are not done here yet.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” I asked, hoping he’d say no.
“No! I mean, it’ll be a cold shower. Not fun for you.” He withdrew something small from his top drawer, which he slipped into the front pocket of his baggy shorts.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing. New shampoo, sample pack.” He ruffled his hair. “Supposed to be good for getting all this spiky gel crap out.”
Logan was always trying new hair products. He had more styling goops than most salons.
“Lock the door after me,” he said.
I stood behind him as he opened the door slowly and peeked out. The upper hall was empty, and so was the bathroom halfway down on the left.
Logan kissed me, then turned away. The soles of his shoes scraped the carpet.
I touched my lips. His kiss had been clumsy and cold.
Down the hall, Logan slowed, fingers trickling along the wall to stop his momentum. With what looked like a great effort, he turned, shuffled back to my side, and carefully cupped my chin.
This time when he kissed me, his lips were still cool, but they felt like his again.
He whis
pered against my mouth. “Wait for me, Aura.”
As soon as he was gone, I shut the door and locked it. Then I sat on the bed, crossing my arms over my chest.
Now what? I felt kind of silly sitting there in my bra. I wondered if I should get dressed again. Or maybe undressed, wait for him under the covers. No, he probably wanted to help with that. Besides, then he wouldn’t see my matching underwear.
So I paced, rubbing my arms to keep warm, and every time I passed the nightstand I looked at that half cup of Liquid Stupid. On the tenth lap I picked it up and took a swallow.
It burned everywhere-my nose, throat, chest.
When I finally stopped coughing and gagging, I heard shouts coming from the hallway. I muted the stereo and listened for Logan’s voice in the crowd.
Instead, I heard his name, shrieked by Siobhan, followed by the word “defibrillator.”
“Oh God.” I grabbed my shirt and cami from the floor and yanked them both over my head in one movement. My face was lost inside as I tried to find the right hole and not shove my skull through a sleeve.
My head popped through, and I screamed.
Logan was standing at the foot of his bed, his shirt open and his hair rumpled, just as he’d been a few minutes before.
But now he was violet.
Chapter Four
I tried to say Logan’s name. Nothing came out but a squeak, and then the tears flooded my eyes, blurring his image so that he looked like any other ghost.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I did something stupid.”
“No!” I ran through the mirage. Had to find the real Logan.
The door was locked. My cold, sweaty fingers slipped over the slick brass switch.
“It’s too late,” he said behind me.
I unlocked the door and jerked it open.
In the hallway outside the bathroom, Mickey was screaming at someone lying on the floor.
I stopped at the threshold. That wasn’t the real Logan either. It didn’t matter that the feet were wearing his blue-and-black-checkered Vans, or that the chest Siobhan was compressing bore the AURA tattoo.
“Goddammit!” Mickey crumpled his hands in his jet-black hair. “Don’t leave us. Don’t you dare leave us.”
Siobhan paused in her compressions, keeping her hands on the motionless chest. “Breathe now.”
“Come on, Logan.” Pinching the body’s nose, Mickey bent over and breathed twice into its mouth.
I took a shaky step forward, then another, then stopped and grasped the railing overlooking the foyer. One more step and I would crumble into a hundred million pieces.
At the other end of the hall, Dylan burst out of the master bedroom, clutching the portable defibrillator against his chest. “I got it! Where do we-” He saw me and slid to a halt, almost falling backward on the plush carpet. He uttered an incoherent noise as the defibrillator fell from his hands.
Siobhan and Mickey looked up at him, then back at me. Their eyes bulged wild, confused, while Dylan’s bore enough pain for the three of them.
Slowly, so I wouldn’t shatter, I turned and looked over my shoulder. Logan’s ghost stood there, staring at his former body. He lifted his gaze to meet his younger brother’s. “I’m sorry,” he croaked. “I’m so sorry.”
“Dylan, come on!” Mickey waved his arm. “Bring it over before it’s too late!”
“It’s too late,” Logan and Dylan said.
“Oh God.” Siobhan sank back on her heels. “You can see him? He’s here? He’s a-”
“No!” Mickey folded his hands on the body’s chest and started pumping, counting under his breath. “Siobhan, breathe.”
She moaned, then bent over and brought her mouth to the lifeless lips. After two breaths, she stroked what used to be Logan’s hair. “Come back. Please come back.”
“I can’t,” Logan whispered behind me, his voice twisted in pain. “Aura, tell her. Make them stop.”
I crammed my hands over my ears and sank to my knees. This isn’t happening. The Liquid Stupid is making me hallucinate. Logan and I are going to wake up and laugh about this, and then we’re going to kill Brian.
I rocked back and forth, hoping the motion would knock me out of the nightmare.
“Aura, come on,” Logan pleaded. “I can’t watch this.”
I shook my head. Not happening. Not happening.
NOT.
HAPPENING.
Then came the screams.
The foyer below was filling with the other partygoers, many of them staring and pointing at Logan’s ghost. Some were crying, and some were pulling phones out of their pockets.
“Siobhan, breathe!” Mickey seized his sister’s shoulders. “Don’t you dare give up. We were supposed to take care of him!”
The stairs thumped with rapid footsteps. Megan stopped on the landing when she saw Logan’s body at the top. “Oh my God.”
“Don’t say it.” Mickey turned his tear-streaked face to her. “Don’t say it. Don’t say he’s dead.”
Megan’s hand trembled as it pointed at Logan’s ghost. “But he’s-”
“Don’t say it!” Mickey wiped his nose with the back of his wrist. “Don’t say it.” He went back to doing CPR, shutting out the world with his muttered count.
Siobhan buried her face in her knees, swaying and sobbing. Dylan stood there staring at Logan, slack jawed, like he’d never seen a ghost before. The cord of the fallen defibrillator still dangled from his fingertips.
I dug my nails into the carpet, to keep the earth from slipping out from under me.
Megan crept up the rest of the stairs. “What’s that on the bathroom sink?”
“Shut up,” Mickey growled.
She shouted, “Logan, what the hell were you thinking?”
He raised his hands. “It was an accident. I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” Logan reached to touch me, then pulled back. “Tell them what I just said.”
I repeated his words with a nearly numb tongue, then said, “Kill yourself with what, Logan?”
He spoke to Mickey and Siobhan. “I know you turned yours down, and so did I. But when he offered again later, I-I didn’t want to piss him off. I was just trying to be nice. I swear I was gonna flush it, but when we got home, people were in all the bathrooms, so I just stuck it in my drawer.”
“Stuck what in your drawer?” I was yelling now, but Logan stayed silent while Dylan repeated what he said in a halting voice.
Siobhan covered her face with her arms. “But Logan, why did you take it?” she shrilled.
“Because I was drunk and stupid, okay? I was trying to wake myself up so I wouldn’t pass out on-” He glanced my way, then curled his arms over his chest. “Never mind.”
Dylan recited Logan’s words slowly, as he realized their implications.
All three siblings turned to look at me with the eyes of judge, jury, and executioner. The house had fallen silent as the screams below became sobs. Someone had switched off the music.
When Megan drew me int
o a tight hug, I clung to her with arms I could barely feel. One piece of my body after another seemed to be following Logan into the cold, dark oblivion.
Then she whispered, “Your shirt’s inside out and backwards.”
I slipped my hand between us to touch the front of my neck. The tag was sticking out, telling the world the whole story of Logan’s death, a story I didn’t understand.
I lurched to my feet.
“Aura, don’t!” Logan called, but no one else tried to stop me as I stumbled to the bathroom. Gripping the doorjamb, I peered inside.
No blood stained the white tile floor or pale blue walls. The only thing out of place was a fallen hand towel. The monogrammed letter K winked up at me in silver thread.
But on the shiny marble sink, one line of white powder said it all.
“You’re such. A fucking. Idiot!”
Mickey was shaking Logan’s body by the shoulders. The head lolled to the side on a rubbery neck.
“How could you do this to us?” he shrieked. “How could you do this to Mom and Dad?”
Logan’s ghost watched Mickey’s meltdown with wide round eyes. “I didn’t mean to. Swear to God. Please don’t-”
“Stupid. Asshole!” Mickey’s mouth twisted in a silent howl. He pressed his forehead to his brother’s chest, then his arms snaked around the limp body until he clutched it in an embrace. “Why?”
Siobhan kept sobbing. Dylan kept staring. I just tried to keep breathing.
Megan went to the railing and said, “Everybody go home. Now.”
I felt four tight walls emerge within me, thick and soft as cotton, muting the noise and pain. Safe in my cocoon, and knowing it wouldn’t last, I turned to comfort Logan.
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