It was a half-finished scene of the two of us, lying on the grass, looking up at a sky filled with stars. My hair was wild and loose, spread all around me in crazy waves, and my face… “I’m not that beautiful,” I murmured, captivated by the gorgeous girl he’d drawn there.
“Yes, you are, Abbey,” his tone was hushed and reverent. “Raven hair, red lips, porcelain skin. You’re like my own personal Snow White. And your eyes… they haunt me.”
I sucked in a deep breath. He haunted my thoughts too.
He reached out a hand like he was going to touch my face, but then caught himself. Switching course, he ran the hand through his hair instead. “Snow White always was my favorite,” he said.
“Are you calling me a princess?”
He shrugged. “If the shoe fits.”
I groaned and he laughed. “Okay, yeah, that one was bad.” Then he glanced down at my books. “What are those for?”
“These”—I sat the small pile on the box, being careful not to wrinkle his drawing—“are for you. Since you were sweet enough to leave me a surprise in my bedroom, I thought I’d bring you something. The candles are for when you run out of the ones in here, and I got the books at a library sale. So… happy birthday. Late. Or early. When is your birthday?”
Caspian grinned as he picked up the first book from the top of the pile and squinted at the title. “December twenty-second. Jane Eyre, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s a good one. There’s a crazy old lady, and a mad wife. Ooh! And a fire.”
He opened it and scanned the front page. “That settles it then. I’ll read this one first.” His words made me ridiculously pleased, and I could feel my entire face light up with happiness. “If all I have to do to get a smile like that is read your books, then I promise to read one every day,” he said.
“Stop it. You’re going to give me heart palpitations.”
He leaned closer. “That’s what I’m trying to do. Your face is absolutely adorable when you blush.”
My ears burned. Oh great, am I the color of a tomato now?
“Yeah, well, I can make you blush,” I retorted. “By telling you how hot you are, and that when that little piece of black hair falls into your eyes, it’s so sexy it makes me forget my words, and…” I stopped, suddenly aware of how warm the mausoleum was.
“Go on,” Caspian prodded, shaking his head so that his hair covered one green eye.
I blushed again, and glanced around me, slowly backing away from him. I just needed some… space to clear my head.
He followed me, stalking my every move. My blood felt like pure oxygen racing through my veins, fizzy and bubbling and making me want to float away. A hard wall at my back stopped me, but Caspian kept coming. I thought desperately of some way to change the subject. “I got you Moby-Dick,” I blurted out.
He gave me a sly smile. “Mmmm, did you? How… interesting.”
“And Treasure Island, and The Count of Monte Cristo.” I babbled on. “I thought you might like some boy books.”
He stopped an inch away from me. I felt like I was his prisoner.
“Let’s go back to the sexy and hot thing,” Caspian said. “Could we add a gorgeous or mysterious in there, too?”
I gulped. “Like you don’t already know you’re all of those things. You probably had girls falling all over you before.”
Caspian cocked his head to one side. “True. But I always thought it was because I was the quiet new guy. And besides, there’s only one person I was ever really interested in.”
“Was?” I squeaked. Then I cleared my throat and tried again. “I mean—”
“Am,” Caspian corrected himself. “Technically, I guess it’s both. I was interested the first day I saw her, and I still am interested in her.” His eyes glowed in the soft candlelight around us, and every last ounce of coherent thought left me.
“It’s… um… really. It’s…” My head felt like it was thickening and my body was overheating, every word dragged from somewhere in the depths of my fuzzy brain. I waved a hand in front of my face to fan myself, and finally spit out what I was trying to say. “It’s hot in here. Don’t you think? It’s really warm.”
“I only feel warmth when I’m standing next to you,” Caspian said. He stepped half an inch closer. “Like right now.”
I flapped my hand harder, desperately trying to get some air, when I felt something tug at my arm.
“Hey…” I lifted my arm, trying to pull free, and my shirt rose up. It was caught on one of the unlit candles at my back. “I’m stuck.”
Caspian glanced down. I followed his gaze and saw that my hip bone was peeking out above my low riding skirt, my shirt pulled high enough to show a wide expanse of flesh.
I was completely mortified until Caspian glanced back up at me and we locked eyes. “What are you doing?” I whispered.
“Enjoying the view.” His voice was shaky, and he closed his eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath.
“How much longer until your death day?” I asked.
“Too long.”
“And you’re sure, that for a whole day you can…”
“Touch? Yes. And I’ll definitely be spending that day with you.” His voice was hoarse, and it seemed to take a lot of effort for him to speak.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
A high-pitched beep broke the silence and cut through the tension. Caspian pulled himself upright with an almost audible snap, and I freed my shirt. Shoving one hand into my skirt pocket, I pulled out my phone and turned it off.
“Sorry,” I said. “It’s my alarm. I have to go.”
I hadn’t told him about my movie plans yet, and now I really didn’t know what to say. So of course, per my usual brain-mouth-no-filter method, I just blurted it right out. “I’m going to the movies tonight with some friends.” I hesitated. “And… Ben.”
He pulled back even farther, and everything in me yelled for him to stop. I had to clench my fists to keep from reaching out.
“It’s totally just this friend thing,” I tried to explain. “I felt bad because this girl, Beth, called me and begged me to go so she wouldn’t be alone.”
Caspian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Abbey. It’s cool. Go. Have fun.” He took a step away and turned his back.
“You could come.” I said. “And sit next to me. No one will know you’re there.”
He shook his head. “That could get awkward. It’s fine. I’ll see you later.”
I hesitated, unsure of what to do. I wanted to stay with him, but he was telling me to go and have fun. “All right,” I said finally. “Can we meet at the bridge? Tomorrow morning?”
“You’re on,” he replied. “Bye, Abbey.”
I tried to tell myself the whole way home that he didn’t really look at me with hopelessness in his eyes when I left. It must have been a trick of the light. That’s all.
Just a trick of the light.
At the theater that night I had to admit that I actually was having fun, and the movie was pretty good too. Beth and Lewis were so cute together, and every time Beth and I took a quick bathroom break to talk about everything, she couldn’t stop gushing over how sweet he was.
Ben kept cracking jokes the entire evening and making us all laugh. Afterward we went for some pizza, and I didn’t think about Caspian the whole time. It wasn’t until I was standing in line to buy a bottle of iced tea to take home with me that my thoughts turned to him.
Glancing outside at Ben, Lewis, and Beth standing on the sidewalk, I thought about how much fun he would have had. If he could have been here. If he was as real to everyone else as he was to me…
The clerk snapped his fingers to get my attention, and I jerked out of my daydream. “Sorry,” I said with an embarrassed smile.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“Yup.”
“That’ll be a buck twenty-five.”
I handed him
two ones and waited for my change, glancing outside again. Ben was doing a crazy version of the robot, and Beth was almost in tears from laughing so hard.
“Here you go. Want a bag?”
“Um, no. I’ll just carry it. Thanks.”
He nodded, then handed me my receipt and something else. “This is your friend’s. He dropped it when he was paying for the pizza.”
Ben had been the one to pay, so I said thanks and took the plastic card, then shoved it along with the receipt into my back pocket. Leaving the pizza place, I joined my friends outside, and we headed for my house, laughing the whole way.
Ten minutes after they dropped me off, the phone rang.
“Hey girl, it’s Beth. I just got in.”
“Oh, hey.”
“So?!” she squealed. “What do you think? Is Lewis worth it? I mean, he’s the total package, right?”
I sat down on my bed and pulled off my shoes. “Definitely. Brains and muscles.” I didn’t even know if that made any sense, but it sounded good.
“Oh, he’s got muscles all right. Big, and well built in every way. And I do mean every way.”
This was turning wayyy too personal for my tastes. “Go for it.”
She squealed again, and I held the phone away from my ear. There was some shouting in the background, and I heard Beth yell, “Just a minute!” Then she said to me, “Okay. I have to go. Thanks for coming with us tonight, Abbey.”
“No problem.” I yawned. “Night.”
Crawling under the covers, I kissed the cool glass of the four-leaf clover necklace I still had on. “Good night, Caspian,” I whispered. “Wish you could have been with me.” I fell asleep to dreams of starry skies and green eyes.
But sometime during the night my dreams changed.
It was a party, with decorations and streamers and fairy lights strung everywhere. The floor was covered in a sea of pink and red balloons, and I had to kick them out of the way. Kristen was there, sitting next to a giant three-tiered cake, her back turned to me. Her red hair was longer than it had been in real life, and hanging loose.
“Kristen!” I yelled to her. “Happy birthday!” She tilted her head and laughed, but she didn’t turn around.
A tugging at my ankles distracted me, and I looked down. The balloons had crowded around me again. A band started playing, and couples suddenly appeared out of nowhere, dressed in old-fashioned clothing. They swept between the balloons, gliding back and forth, all of them executing perfect dance steps.
Every time I tried to move, closer at first, then farther away, they’d stop in unison and turn to stare at me. Every single face was hidden behind a mask.
The balloons swelled again, climbing higher and higher. Burying me deeper and deeper. I tried to dig my way out, flinging them to the sides, but the balloons grew heavy. Suddenly, one of them burst, and water came slowly leaking out.
It was like a special effect. As soon as the trickling stream touched another balloon, it burst in slow motion, and then another and another would go off.
The crowd kept dancing. Moving along a balloon remnant–littered floor. None of them seemed to notice the puddles under their feet.
Finally I broke free. Enough balloons had popped that I was no longer weighed down, and I rushed to Kristen’s side. “Did you see that?” I asked her. “Is this a masquerade?”
She turned to face me, eyes downcast, with a pout on her lips. “Where’s your mask, Abbey?”
“I don’t have one,” I said.
She stroked one hand along the black dress she was wearing. “Do you like this? I wore it to my funeral.”
I drew back, horrified. “Why would you say that, Kristen?”
She leaned down and put one finger to her lips, making a shhh sound. “I’m waiting for someone. Now put on your mask, Abbey.”
I was getting frustrated now, and angry. “I don’t have a damn mask, Kristen.”
“Sure you do. Everyone does. I’m wearing mine.” Her face turned tight, pinched, like she was schooling her features. Then a single trumpet blared, announcing the arrival of someone, and Kristen clapped her hands together. “He’s here! My brother is here. And he’s wearing his mask.”
Turning, I saw the outline of a dark figure in the doorway with the sun behind him, casting a silhouette. I couldn’t make out his features.
“But Kristen, Thomas is dead.…”
And then the balloons were back, clustering around me, sweeping me away. They brought me closer to the door, and I cried out, “Thomas, help me!”
Kristen was there by his side. Wearing a black mask now. “He can’t save you,” she said. “He couldn’t even save himself.”
I woke from my dream shaking and covered in sweat. After changing into a pair of jeans, I paced around my room. Why had I dreamt about Kristen like that? What did it mean? And why was Thomas there?
Weak morning light filtered across my floor, and I kept pacing back and forth. Lost in my own head. Every way seemed wrong and I just couldn’t figure it out.
Then I realized something. I padded over to my desk and scanned a calendar that was sitting there; then I checked my phone to be sure.
It was July twelfth. Thomas’s birthday.
I went back to pacing around the room, feeling all out of sorts. Last year I hadn’t gotten the chance to spend the day with Kristen because she’d been missing. But this year it would be different.
I threw on some shoes and a sweatshirt and went to my closet to grab a blanket. I was going to the cemetery, and the grass there might be damp.
Caspian found me an hour later.
“How did you know where I was?” I asked him, not looking up from Kristen’s grave.
“I don’t know. I just sensed it. When you weren’t at the bridge, I came to check here. I guess you make my Spidey senses tingle.”
I knew he wanted me to laugh or smile, but I wasn’t in the mood.
“Hey,” he asked. “What’s wrong? Did something happen last night?”
I looked up then. “At the movies? No. It’s not that. I just had a bad dream last night about Kristen and…” A car drove slowly up the path next to us, and I stopped talking, trying to look like I was just a normal teenager sitting alone by a tombstone.
Like there was anything normal about that.
“Do you want to go sit under the bridge?” Caspian asked quietly. “I don’t think we’ll be bothered there.”
I nodded and stood, folding the blanket as I went. Resolutely, we walked past the church.
“Wait just a minute,” I told Caspian, when we reached the bridge. “Let me check on something.” Dropping the blanket, I walked over to the section where Kristen and I used to sit. Then I grabbed on to the support pillar, used several chunks of exposed concrete as footholds, and climbed up under the bottom of the bridge. “Come on,” I called softly down to Caspian. “We can sit up here.”
He climbed up as I settled myself on the support beams. An extra beam had been added near the front, so it wasn’t as open and as much of a drop down into the water below as it used to be when Kristen and I would sit there, but it was still a long way to fall.
Caspian wedged himself in next to me, and for a moment his knee disappeared into mine. “Sorry,” he said, readjusting. I shrugged and looked out over the water, falling back into my dark mood. “So, what about this dream?” he asked.
“It was a weird birthday dream about Kristen. But this time her brother, Thomas, was in it.”
He waited for me to continue. Never once prodding me to speak faster. I liked that. “Today is Thomas’s birthday,” I confessed. “I think that’s why he was in the dream.”
“Okay.”
Just one word. One simple sound, and it completely undid me. Suddenly, the words were spilling out of me. “Ever since he died, Kristen and I used to spend his birthday together every year. But last year we didn’t get to because she was… gone. And I missed her birthday this year because I was at Aunt Marjorie’s. It was Mayfifth.”
Caspian just watched me with wide eyes, patiently listening.
“I feel terrible,” I said. “I mean, I thought about her, and I wrote her a note. I even sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to her before I went to bed that night. But I wasn’t here. With her.”
“I’m sure she knew you were with her in spirit,” Caspian said.
“Maybe.” I dug one finger into the fabric of my jeans and traced a random pattern on my leg. “But maybe she doesn’t. Maybe that’s why I had the dream. Because she’s mad at me, or something.”
Caspian shook his head. “No. I know that’s not true.”
“But how can you know?” I said. “Last time I checked, she wasn’t exactly hanging around here to give us her opinion.”
“I know because of the type of friendship you had. I saw it firsthand.”
“You did?”
He looked sheepish. “I told you before that I saw you here at the cemetery, and… sometimes I would follow you guys.”
I watched him closely. Fascinated by his admission.
“I mean,” he said, “I didn’t like peek over your shoulder or anything. But sometimes when you would sit by Irving’s grave, I sort of stuck around. It was like I was a part of it too.” His face suddenly changed. “Your expression said it all. Your laugh spoke volumes.” Caspian looked down at his hands. “I could tell how close you two were. She loved you.”
My eyes grew moist, and a tear leaked out before I had the chance to wipe it away. “You think so?”
He nodded, and a quiet laugh escaped me as a memory surfaced. “You know, this one time, on Easter, Kristen thought it would be neat to hide some eggs for the people that ‘lived’ here. We were like ten, by the way.” I laughed again. “So we took three dozen painted eggs and hid them all around. But when we were done, all the hiding places looked the same, and we couldn’t remember where we’d put them.”
“It took weeks for poor John, the caretaker, to find them. A couple of them must have been eaten by animals, because we never did find them all. But every time the wind blew, you knew you were close to one. The stench of rotten eggs was horrendous.”
The Haunted Page 19
