“Like a parallel universe?” Anthony asks.
“Not quite the same, but you’ve got the right idea. We don’t exist in parallel with the living world. We exist in a different place. A place that no one living could ever comprehend.”
“What about people who have had near-death experiences?” I ask.
“Depending on how long they were clinically dead for, it’s possible that they may have seen some part of our world, but it is very unlikely that they would remember it and it would only be in flashes. They would be unlikely to think it was anything other than a dream.”
“What happens to adults who die?” I ask. “If kids and teenagers come here, what about adults?”
“It’s different for everybody,” he says.
“What happened to you?”
“I died. I got a job here. Can we please get back on topic?”
“You did ask if there were any questions. I want to know what happens.”
“All you have to worry about is what happened to you. You passed away as a teenager. Here you will finish your education until such time as you graduate and move on to something else.”
“What will that be?”
“I don’t know, Miss Richardson. No one knows until you get there. A magic eight ball would probably be more helpful at this point.”
“What if we don’t graduate?”
“You will graduate when you’re ready to.”
“Do we go heaven?”
“No one knows the answer to that.”
“What about the people who have already graduated? Don’t they ever pop back and tell you?”
“No,” he says. “Once you leave here, you can’t come back. That’s the law of our world.”
“Could you be more cryptic?” I mutter.
“Any other questions?” he asks, ignoring mine.
“Will we ever be able to see our families again?” Anthony asks.
“There is Visualisation class. You may be able to glimpse them, but you will not be able to contact them. However, we do understand that it can be painful for some students, so Visualisation is not compulsory for everyone.”
“So that’s it?” I ask. “Just ‘oops, you died’?”
“We try to be sympathetic but facing things head-on rather than ducking away from them is our policy. Personally, I think it’s a good approach. You’re all young adults, and yes something bad has happened to you, but there’s no point in beating around the bush about it. This is how things are. Deal with it.”
I nod. I half appreciate this approach and half wish they’d be a bit more sympathetic.
“Okay,” Mr Burgrove says. “That’s it for today. The rest of the evening is free. It’s the perfect time to make a few friends. Class starts at eight o’clock sharp in the morning. Do not be late. If you have any questions, you can ask your resident advisor who is always on the reception desk inside the dormitories or you can find me in the staff room at any time.”
We nod as he picks up his bag and leaves.
I cast a last glance at the dinner lady with horns as Anthony and I walk outside.
It’s still quiet everywhere. Obviously the lessons haven’t finished yet.
I can’t help but wonder what on earth is in store for me tomorrow. I can’t bear the thought of never seeing my family again. Or Wade. How am I supposed to live without Wade?
They’ve made a mistake. I swear they have. I’m not supposed to be here. I can’t be here.
Girls like me don’t just die.
“So,” Anthony says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “That was weird.”
“Everything about this place is weird.”
“Did you find your own clothes in a suitcase on the bed?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“Well, so far we have magical suitcases, a cook with horns, and a growling pumpkin.”
I ignore him.
“Where is this growling pumpkin?”
“In my dorm room,” I say. “Sitting on a table by the window.”
“You sure it wasn’t a dog outside or something?”
“No, it was definitely the pumpkin. I felt it move. It looks seriously evil.”
“I don’t know why I’m surprised. So far we’ve seen a woman who died in 1949, a kid disappear into thin air, and a woman with horns coming out of her forehead. And my resident advisor is so old I have no idea how he can even stand up.”
“Mine too,” I say. “And he can run up the stairs like nobody’s business.”
“I don’t like the whole people-disappearing thing,” Anthony says. “Creeps me out.”
“Everything creeps me out. My RA just appeared in the door of my room twice because I was late and distracted by a pumpkin.”
“Do you think we’ll be able to do the disappearing thing? That would be so cool.”
I roll my eyes at him.
“What about invisibility? Do you think we’ll be able to be invisible?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Ghosts are generally invisible, aren’t they? Not that it would do you much good here. I suppose it would be okay to be invisible if we could go back home. But then again, Wade would never take me to the prom if I was invisible.”
“Can’t you think about anything else?” Anthony snaps. “Wade this, Wade that. Wade is a murderer. Wade killed us. I know you don’t give a damn about me, but Wade killed you too. You should hate him for that.”
“I do give a damn about you,” I protest. “The way Wade treated you earlier was wrong. I tried to stop him, remember?”
Anthony shrugs.
“He didn’t mean to hurt anyone. He was just being Wade. Okay, so he can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, but he’s the most popular boy in our school. Who wouldn’t be a jerk occasionally?”
“He hit me with a car!”
“It was an accident.”
“Yeah, well, somehow you and I have come off a lot worse than he has.”
“You don’t know that,” I tell him. “He could be seriously injured himself.”
Oh my god, why did I have to say that? Thinking about Wade being hurt makes my stomach turn. Wade hurt with no one to take care of him. Without me to look after him. What will he do? He must be devastated. He’s just lost his girlfriend. And I bet he blames himself. He’s probably lying in a hospital bed right now, feeling so bad because of what happened, and even though it wasn’t his fault, it kind of was his fault, so he must be blaming himself for it.
I bet he really needs a hug.
I miss him so much it’s almost unbearable.
But, as Anthony so kindly pointed out, he’s obviously better off than us because he’s still alive.
But that’s not the point. Anyone can have an accident. It was my choice to get in the car with him, even though I knew he’d taken it without permission. I can’t blame him for what happened.
“Riley,” Anthony snaps. “Stop thinking about that idiot. We have slightly more important things to worry about.”
“Like how we’re going to get out of here?”
“We can’t get out of here. Didn’t you hear what Mr Burgrove just said?”
I shrug. I don’t say anything to Anthony, but if there’s a way in there must also be a way out. I would really like to find it.
“So…” I change the subject abruptly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you actually seem like you want to be here.”
He shrugs. “I guess I kind of do. Well, not really, but… Oh, I don’t know.” But he’s smiling so obviously he does know. “It’s just that I like the structure of school and the idea of this place. I had always imagined heaven as being a sort of lame place, y’know, where you just wander around aimlessly and do nothing.”
“That sounds like a really good plan to me,” I interject.
“And I love the invisibility thing. I want to become a ghost and go back to Earth and get revenge on all the people who were rotten to me in school.”
“That would take quite a while,” I mutter, feeling slightly guilty.
>
Okay, I was pretty awful to Anthony, but he was kind of an easy target. People laughed at me for stealing his glasses in class or hiding his gym bag so he’d have to do gym in his underwear. It’s not like I ever meant to really hurt him. I just wanted to make other people like me.
“I guess you should start with me,” I say.
He shrugs. “I think this is punishment enough.”
“No kidding.”
He grins at me.
There is a bit of noise going on around the school now, so I guess classes just finished.
“I should go,” I say. “I think I have a roommate to meet.”
“Me too,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you at dinner?”
“Sure, why not?”
Usually I wouldn’t be seen dead anywhere near Anthony, but I guess being killed in a car accident changes things a bit.
CHAPTER 6
I wave to the ancient resident advisor as I go in the dormitory door and trudge up the stairs.
I can’t help but notice there are two smoke alarms on the ceiling, one on the wall, one in the reception area, and probably more along the corridor and on the higher floors. How many fire alarms does one place full of already dead people need? There are fire extinguishers everywhere as well in full view, easy to grab. Why so many? It’s not like we can die again, is it?
When I get to my room the door is slightly ajar, so I guess my roommate is back from class. I knock lightly. Yes, I know it’s my room, but I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with her.
“Yo,” comes a voice from the other side.
I push the door open.
“Hi,” I say gingerly. “I’m Ri—”
“Riley Richardson.” She spins to face me.
“Yes,” I say. How come everybody knows who I am before I can introduce myself?
“Well, don’t just stand there,” she says. “Come on in.”
I walk in and close the door behind me.
“I’m Caydi,” she says. “Caydi with an i. C-A-Y-D-I. I hate it when people spell it wrong.”
I nod. As I had guessed from her cosmetics, she’s a Goth. Grey clothing, grey skin, and dark grey hair with loads of black eye make-up. She’s very pretty though, but like everything else, completely colourless.
“So,” she says. “You can take the bottom bunk. I like sleeping up high.”
I nod.
“Do you speak?”
“Yes,” I say. “Sorry, I’m just a bit freaked out to be here.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
“How long have you been here?”
“About six months,” she says. “And you arrived, what, two hours ago?”
I shrug. “Something like that.”
“And this is your old school?”
“Yeah, I suppose. Except that my old school was colourful and alive.”
“Yeah, well, don’t think too much of it. Living isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“So, how did you, you know…”
“Die?”
I nod.
“Cut my wrists,” she says. “I was only doing it for attention but I went too far and bled out before anyone found me.”
“Oh. That’s awful.”
“I don’t mind so much actually. This place isn’t so bad.”
I nod like that makes sense to me.
“And you?” Caydi asks.
“Car accident,” I admit. “My boyfriend was driving and we hit this other kid—he’s here too—and then we crashed into something.”
“That sucks,” she says.
I nod.
“And your boyfriend?”
My stomach flip-flops at the thought of Wade again.
“I don’t know,” I say. “He’s not here so I guess he isn’t dead, but he could be seriously injured. Do you know of a way I can contact him?”
“The dead can’t contact the living. You may be able to see him if you pay attention in Visualisation class, but that’s all.”
“People keep saying that,” I say. “But we can’t just be completely cut off from our families and friends. It’s not fair.”
“Your life ended,” she states. “That’s what happens when life ends. It’s a lot easier if you just accept it and move on.”
“I can’t accept that I’m never going to see the boy I love again,” I say. “Or my parents.”
Oh God, my parents. They must be devastated.
And mad.
Really, really mad.
If I wasn’t already dead, they would kill me for getting into a car with Wade. And for skipping school.
I sit down on the bed and pick up the photos that had been in my suitcase.
“Is that them?” Caydi asks.
I nod and show her the photos.
“He’s cute,” she says when she sees Wade.
“Everybody thinks that,” I say. “He’s the most popular boy in school.”
“That must make you very popular. Or very envied.”
“Both,” I say. “But popular mostly.”
“Pfft. Figures I’d get stuck with a bloody prom queen for a roommate,” Caydi says, sounding most unimpressed.
“I’m not a prom queen,” I protest. I mean, I probably would be if our school listened to my petition to let us have proms, but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Why do you have brown hair anyway?”
“Because it’s my hair colour?” I stare at her like she’s gone mad.
“No, I mean, how come you’re still brunette? Everyone in this place has black or grey hair. No one keeps their living colour when they come here.”
I grab my ponytail and pull it around so I can see it.
She’s right. My hair is still brown. The same chestnut brown with blond highlights that it’s always been.
“Maybe it takes a while to kick in,” I venture. But that can’t be right because Anthony is already grey.
“It kicks in the moment you die,” she says. “I don’t know why. No one knows why, but it does.”
“Can I borrow your mirror?” I ask.
She takes it off her dressing table and passes it to me.
I stare at my reflection in it.
Given everything that’s happened in the past few hours, I hadn’t even thought about how I looked, even though everyone around me was grey.
But I’m not.
My clothes are grey, yes. But my skin is normal skin colour, and my eyes are still blue, and yes, my hair is still brown.
“Is this weird?” I ask Caydi.
“No, it’s very weird.”
“Do you know what it means?”
She shrugs. “Not a clue. Didn’t Mrs Carbonell mention it?”
I shake my head.
“Do you think it’s a good thing?” I ask worriedly.
“How am I supposed to know?”
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I’m just out of my depth here.”
“We’ve all been there,” she says. “It will get easier after therapy sessions.”
“Therapy sessions?”
“They’re requisite for the first two months,” she explains. “Then optional after that.”
“This is so freaking weird.”
“What part?”
“All of it.”
“I know,” she says. “But it will get easier.”
I shrug.
It won’t. Not for me. I know it won’t. I don’t belong here. I belong with Wade and my family. Although not together because my dad would probably kill Wade given the circumstances. Oh God, the funeral. My funeral.
How on earth are my mum and dad going to pay for something like that? And who will go? I wonder if Sophie will go. Of course Sophie will go. Oh God, Sophie. I’ve been so preoccupied with Wade that I haven’t thought of how Sophie must be feeling. She’s just lost her best friend. She must be devastated too. Who will she hang around with at lunchtimes? Who will she go shopping with? Who will she spend Saturday nights with now that I won’t be there for popcorn, Ben & Jerry�
��s and chick-flick girly nights?
And the funeral. Dad will kill Wade at the funeral, if not before. If Wade is fit enough to go, that is. Maybe he’s seriously injured and won’t be able to leave the hospital. Or maybe he just won’t be able to handle it. Maybe he’ll have to say his goodbyes to me in private.
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.
“Hey, Riley.” Caydi snaps her fingers in front of my face.
“Sorry,” I mutter.
“Dwelling on it doesn’t help matters,” she says. “This is life now.”
“Actually, I thought this was death.” I try cracking a joke but it goes down like a lead balloon. “Why are there so many fire extinguishers around?” I try to fill up the awkward silence that follows. “If we’re already dead, it’s not going to make much difference, is it?”
“You shouldn’t mention them,” Caydi says. “We all know they’re there, but we don’t talk about them.”
“Why not?”
“Isn’t it obvious?”
She stares at me but I obviously don’t get it because she huffs and rolls her eyes. “Mrs Carbonell died in a fire. She’s a little over-precautious. Not that it really makes any difference, but the woman has obviously got issues. So no one mentions the fire stuff. Just ignore it.”
“Oh,” I say. I hadn’t thought of that.
“You should unpack your stuff,” Caydi says. “I cleared some things out of the wardrobe and this chest of drawers is for you.”
“Okay, thanks,” I say, even though there is still a lump in my throat and I feel like crying.
I turn to the suitcase and rummage through the stuff that’s in there.
It’s like I would have packed to go on holiday for a week. But this is about the furthest thing you can get from a holiday.
“So, how long have you not had a roommate for?” I ask as I start taking things out of the suitcase and laying them on the bed.
“Forever,” she says. “I’ve been on my own since I came here.”
“Oh,” I say. “Sorry, I guess.”
She shrugs. “Well, I’m not thrilled by the prospect of a roommate, but it was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“Has no one arrived here for six months then?”
“Oh no, plenty of people come every week, but they always put them in other rooms. People leave so there are always spaces.”
“I thought people couldn’t leave unless they graduate?”
Afterlife Academy Page 4
