April's Ghosts

by Juliet Vane

  Like me, with James. I caught his eye, and he gave me one of his soft smiles.

  “I’ve got to head out early and catch a plane,” Natalie continued, “so Mr. Abbot will lock up. As soon as the paint dries and you put the furniture in place, please unroll the rugs. Then you’re done! Here are your checks.” She handed an envelope to each of us. I folded mine and tucked it carefully into my jeans pocket. “There’s even a bonus because you did such a great job on the basement. Did you know there’s still a painting or something down there?”

  The mirror. I stifled a shudder.

  Logan coughed. “Uh, yeah…about that…”

  “It’s not a problem,” Natalie said. “I’ll have Mr. Abbot take it with him when he makes his next trip to the dump. Thanks for all your hard work!”

  “Thanks,” we said, grinning at her and at each other.

  We’d done it. We’d survived Rosebud Academy.

  I listened to the sound of her heels clacking back down the hall and then down the stairs.

  “So now we, what, literally get paid to watch paint dry?” I asked, falling down onto the bed.

  “Ha.” Logan set down his roller and looked at the wall. “I’m done here.”

  “About time,” James said.

  The two of them took off to put away the paint supplies. I lay on the bed and thought about what came next. I had six hundred dollars. More, actually. I lifted myself up just enough to work the envelope out of my pocket. I opened it and took out the check. Seven hundred dollars. Nice. So I had seven hundred bucks. If I broke my lease on the place I’d gotten with Ian, I could afford the first month’s rent on a small studio. With this amount, the studio wouldn’t be great, but it would be better than living out of Grizabella.

  *

  A half hour later, the paint was dry enough. James’s muscles strained the shoulders and sleeves of his shirt as he pushed a dresser into place. I tried not to stare, but I was totally staring. When he was done, he and Logan looked around the room.

  “I think we got it all,” Logan said.

  “I think we did, too,” I said. “Let’s take our money and paint the town!”

  James rubbed his shoulder. “Nope, no more painting. But you’re hanging out with us tonight, right, April?”

  “You haven’t had enough of me yet?” I asked, laughing.

  James’s voice was serious. “Never.”

  “Um, I’m right here, guys,” Logan said.

  James and I both pretended not to know what he was talking about. But I had a feeling that tonight, something would change for us. Something big was about to happen.

  We trooped downstairs to the front of the building. Logan whooped and yelled, “Freedom!” then burst through the glass double doors. He already had his phone in his hand, ready to text Helen.

  “If you’re texting Helen the whole night, I’m not coming—” I started to say, but the doors slammed shut before I could finish.

  James rolled his eyes. “Well, at least we’ll get quality time together.”

  I felt my face get hot again. Did tonight mean as much to him as it did to me? I shoved at the doors to follow Logan out.

  They didn’t move.

  “Huh,” I said, and shoved again. Nothing.

  James pushed first one, and then the other, and we rattled the push bars. Each bar pressed in, but wouldn’t release the catch.

  “Maybe Abbot locked this side up already?” James said.

  I shrugged, then knocked on the glass to get Logan’s attention. “It’s locked—we’re going around.”

  He nodded and gave me a thumb’s up.

  Because of the U shape of the building, we had three other doors to choose from. One set was not far behind us, and opened up to the courtyard.

  “Ugh, I just want to be done with this place,” I said, stomping over to the exit.

  James tried the doors. “Locked.”

  “Seriously?” I kicked the door frame in exasperation. “Mr. Abbot knew we were still in here, right? And what kind of safety hazard is this? Who has a school with doors that lock people in? What if there was a fire or something?”

  James was quiet as we made our way past the classrooms along the south wing. The snooty portraits of old professors or random people of historic importance glared down at us, and I walked a little closer to James.

  The south door was within sight—and it had been propped open with a smooth stone. We still had about ten yards to go. I picked up the pace, feeling like a horse speeding up before reaching the stable.

  “What do you want to grab for dinner tonight?” I asked James. “Thai? Burgers?”

  “Thai, definitely. My dad’s been serving up beef like every day of the month—I mean, the week—”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I know you decided not to go back to Michigan. Don’t be mad, but Logan told me. He thought I should know.”

  James sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I should have told you before.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “I get why you didn’t, though.”

  “Yeah, that place just wasn’t for me.”

  I nudged his shoulder with mine. “I believe in you. Whatever you think is best—that’s the way to go.”

  Ten feet from the door. I thought of taking a running leap outside and yelling “Freedom!” like Logan had done. Just then, a gust of wind blasted into the hallway. I grabbed James’s arm. The stone next to the door—the stone that was as big as my head—was moving.

  In less than a second, the stone was out of the way, no longer propping the door open, and the door screeched as it began to close. James rushed forward, and reached for the handle, but before he could get there, the door clicked shut.

  He shoved at the bar, which pushed in and out uselessly.

  “This one’s locked, too,” he said.

  I was still trying to catch my breath. “That was—too freaky.”

  “One door left,” James muttered. “It’s okay, April. Hey, at least we’re here together.”

  I’d be pissing my pants if I was alone, but I didn’t say it out loud.

  “We’re going to stay calm,” he said. “Okay? We’re just going to calmly walk to the north wing and try the door.”

  I wasn’t calm. In my mind, I was breaking every window in the building.

  “We should try some windows, in the classrooms,” I said.

  “Good thinking. We’ll do that if the door won’t open.”

  We passed Logan, still waiting out front for us, on our way to the other wing. He held up his hands in a “what the hell” gesture.

  “All the doors are locked,” I shouted through the glass. “We have one more to try.”

  “You want me to call Natalie?” he asked. “I can try to find her number. Maybe she can reach Abbot.”

  “Let’s see if we can get that last door,” James said.

  The door was already shut, and when we tried it, it was locked.

  “I knew it,” I muttered. Grabbing James’s hand, I pulled him with me into one of the classrooms.

  I rushed to the window, which had those old metal latches that lock into place. I pried my fingers into the crack to lift it out of place so we could crank the window open.

  The latch wouldn’t move. I tugged on it with all my strength, but nothing happened.

  “I know you want me to stay calm,” I said.

  “It’s okay, I’m freaking out, too.” James took my hand, gently removing it from the window latch, and he gave my fingers a quick squeeze.

  “But you look so calm,” I said.

  He grinned. “Trying not to freak you out any more than you already are.”

  “Thanks, what a sacrifice.” I forced a playful smile onto my face, but it felt more like a grimace.

  “We could split up to try more windows,” James said.

  “Um, no. We’re not separating from each other. This place is freaking me out.” And I knew, I just knew, that nothing would work.

  There were ghosts here, and
we’d heard them. I’d even seen one. I’d dreamed of them. I just didn’t know what they wanted.

  “Should we break a window?” I asked.

  He eyed the glass in front of us. “Let’s see if Logan can get in touch with Abbot or Natalie, first.”

  Chapter Ten

  Wounds and Kisses

  We waited while Logan dialed Natalie’s phone. “No answer,” he said, his voice muffled through the glass door. “Didn’t she say she was catching a plane somewhere?”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “What about Abbot? Do you think you could find him on the grounds, or in town?”

  “I can try. Hang in there, guys. Text or call if you need anything. If we have to, we’ll break a window.”

  I doubted Abbot or Natalie or even an ax would help. This building—or the ghosts within it—wanted us to stay put.

  “If worst comes to worst,” James said, “we can call the fire department and they’ll break us out of here. It’s probably better than us breaking a window. Let the professionals do that.”

  “Good point.” Logan gave us a mock salute and walked off.

  “Well, we may as well get comfortable.” James pointed to the rear of the foyer, where a padded bench lined the wall.

  “Sure,” I said.

  We sat, not far from each other. I felt like so many things had gone unsaid between us in the past few days.

  I picked at the frayed knee of my jeans. “You know, if I have to be trapped in a creepy old school, and I had to pick anyone to be trapped with me, I’d pick you.”

  “I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” he said, nudging my shoulder with his. “But I’ll take it as a good thing.”

  “Yeah, it’s a good thing.” I leaned into him. With just the two of us, alone, the action felt more intimate.

  His arm was warm, the heat of him burning through the sleeve of my shirt.

  “I can picture you here,” he said. “As one of the music students…if they did something for musicals.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. You’d be in a red dress, framed by those windows there, and singing your heart out.”

  “I wore a red dress to prom,” I said.

  “I remember.”

  “Really?” I said, arching an eyebrow. “You didn’t even go.”

  “No, but I remember you talking about it, and I saw the pictures afterward. I wish—I wish I’d worked up the nerve to ask you.”

  Quietly, so quietly I could barely hear myself, I said, “I wish you had, too. Or I wish that I’d asked you.”

  He sucked in a breath, and then he slowly brought his arm around my shoulders.

  My heart thumped erratically. I felt like I was on a first date, only in this case the stakes were so much higher. I really liked James. Loved him, if I was honest with myself. But he was also my friend, and I didn’t want to screw anything up.

  “April,” he said, his voice low.

  “Yeah?”

  “There’s some stuff I’ve been wanting to tell you. Maybe you can guess what it is.”

  I wanted to keep my gaze firmly on the patterned floor tiles, but I made myself look at James. His bright blue eyes were locked on my face.

  “Maybe I have some ideas,” I whispered.

  He reached over and touched my cheek. I tilted my head, wanting more of his warmth, his heat. Then he moved forward. His peppermint scent surrounded me, making me feel awake and aware of how momentous this was.

  Slowly, so slowly, he pressed his lips to mine.

  I felt that kiss all the way down to my toes.

  After a moment, he pulled away.

  “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he said, his voice gruff.

  I touched my lips, then his. “You don’t know how much I want you to do it again.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Spirits and Kisses

  Our lips met again, and this was no chaste peck. James’s mouth slanted over mine. Three pressing kisses and then his tongue, warm, ran across my bottom lip. I opened my mouth to him, inviting him in.

  James’s kiss caused me to lose myself. I felt powerful and humble. I felt like I was at the top of the mountain and the bottom of the sea.

  There would never be enough of this. I broke away briefly so I could clamber onto his lap, straddling him. I wanted more kissing, more contact—I wanted to feel him everywhere.

  He wrapped his arms around me, and I felt him gathering the back of my shirt in his fists. He could tear it off of me and I wouldn’t even care. I wanted this kiss to take us to heights with each other—heights that it would feel like we were discovering for the very first time.

  My phone chimed from the seat next to us, and James’s buzzed, too.

  We pulled out of the kiss and looked at each other. “Logan,” we groaned at the same time, and laughed.

  I got off of his lap and grabbed my phone. Logan’s text read, Abbot’s truck is gone. I’ll head into town and see if I can find out how to get in touch with him. Hang tight, guys.

  I tapped out, Thank you, and turned back to James.

  “You don’t have to stay so far away on the bench,” he said, tugging gently at my arm.

  “Things are moving fast,” I said. I wanted him—more than anything. And that scared me.

  “Might feel that way to you, I guess…but I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I was fifteen.”

  “I’ve been thinking about it just as long,” I said. “I just—I’m terrified of wrecking things between us.”

  “How can we wreck this?” he asked, gesturing between us. “It feels like the most natural thing in the world.”

  He was right. I’d wasted so much time not going for what I really wanted. I had regrets, that was for sure, about dating Ian to begin with. I’d been in love with the idea of being in love—none of that had been about Ian as a person, which was why it hadn’t worked.

  But I knew James, and I knew that I loved him. I loved him for who he was. Over the past couple of days, I’d realized I had regrets about not taking the chances that were available. I felt regret that it had taken me so long to figure this out. But the thing with my regret was that it was prompting me to act now. It was giving me another chance. So in a way, I was thankful for it.

  It was just funny, in a way, that everything had brought me here—stuck in a creepy old school with James, and possibly ghosts.

  “Do you think ghosts have regrets?” I asked.

  He gave a little laugh. “That’s a big change of subject.”

  “Sorry.” I grabbed his hand and held it. His hands were huge compared to mine. “I was just thinking about regret, and how I wished we’d been together from the beginning, but at the same time, now I know how meaningful it is that we’re…together now. If we’re even together?”

  He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Yes, we’re together. I’m never letting you go. But what does that have to do with ghosts?”

  “Do you…believe in ghosts?”

  “Before Monday, not at all. I’d never encountered one. But those footsteps we heard? They weren’t pipes, you know that as well as I do. They were footsteps. So yeah, I kinda do believe in ghosts.”

  I hesitated. “This is going to sound crazy. But that mirror had a—a face in it. A girl’s face. And she was also in a dream I had the other night.”

  “That doesn’t sound crazy—it sounds scary as hell.”

  “It was. James, she talked to me.”

  His arm tightened around my shoulders. “What did she say?”

  “Stop it, I know you think I’m nuts.”

  “I’m serious.” He pulled away and turned me to face him. His eyes were serious, his beautiful lips in a straight line. Definitely not joking around, and definitely not doubting me. “April, remember what you told me, when we talked about how I dropped out of Michigan?”

  “Yeah. I told you I believed in you.”

  “Exactly. Well, I believe in you, too. I don’t think you’re crazy. I
do think there is some weird old ghost nonsense happening in this building. And if she told you something, maybe we should try to listen.”

  “She asked me to help her. She said the mirror needs to be in the hallway.”

  “Weird.” He looked around the hall, as if trying to figure out where the mirror would go.

  “I know. But the thing is, I know exactly where she means—the hallway near those rooms we cleaned upstairs. There’s a perfect spot, with a hook and everything.”

  James nodded, but not in agreement. It was the way he moved his head when he was thinking. He reached over and touched the friendship bracelet on my wrist. He traced the blue zigzag pattern. “Do you think she wants to do something bad? Or good?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, you’re scared of her. But is it because she seems evil?”

  “No, not at all. I’m scared of her because mirror people shouldn’t be there and they shouldn’t talk.”

  He chuckled. “I agree. But she’s there, and she did talk.”

  “Right.”

  “So, I don’t know if you knew this, but my grandfather said he saw ghosts.”

  “Really?” I’d met James’s grandfather a couple of times, during visits before he died.

  “Yeah. He told me they’re just like living people—some good, some neutral, and some evil. And he said that just like with living people, you can kind of feel in your body which camp they fall into.”

  I nodded and thought back to my interactions with the mirror girl. This was yet another moment when I was asking myself to trust my instincts. “I don’t really know if she’s good or neutral. But she’s not evil.”

  James squeezed my hands. “If she’s not evil, then maybe we should help her. Once we get out, I guess.”

  “James?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What if we have to help her in order to get out?”

  “But she’s in the basement—oh.”

  “Right?” I said, bouncing on the bench in my excitement. Finally, I stood up, unable to contain my energy. “There’s that door in the kitchen.”

  James stood, too. “But there’s a padlock on it.”

  “I have a feeling it won’t be a problem.”