by Amy Sparling
"He was stupid." Raine shakes the hair out of his eyes.
I shoot him a dirty look. "Excuse me?"
He holds out his hands. "No guy could choose another girl over you. You've had me captivated for weeks."
"You're wrong." I snatch the letter and shove it back in my pocket, claiming it for my own. "He was my best friend. I liked him more than a friend, and he didn't like me that way."
"That's insane," Raine says, blocking my way to the door.
"Get out of my way, please."
"Don't leave." I stand in front of him, at his mercy as he blocks my only way to escape this room. I wish I were a ghost so I could float through the walls. My hands clench into fists. I don't want to be angry but there isn't any other emotion for me to feel. "Why do you want me to stay?"
"Because you can't leave like this."
I roll my eyes. "Like what?"
He slides his hands in his pockets. "Mad at me." He looks like a hurt little puppy, with his shoulders slumped and his head tilted to the side. I know he doesn't deserve to be treated like this, but he can't just drop the I have a crush on you bomb and expect me to be cool with it. "I'm not mad at you," I say, my voice several levels softer than just a moment ago.
"He hurt you, didn't he?" He searches my eyes for an answer. I nod, feeling my protective shield dissipate like Mrs. Graves' ghost. He takes my hands in his and steps toward me. I let him pull me close, let my head rest on his shoulder. "Tell me about him," he says, his lips moving over my hair.
I pull back and look at his shirt, since I can't bring myself to look in his eyes. As much as I want to hold everything in and keep my pain locked up inside my heart, I wonder if telling someone will help me heal. Mom doesn't let me talk about Brendan. She says it's wrong to daydream about the past. I bite my lip and suck in a deep breath. When my eyes finally meet Raine's, I see his compassion staring back at me. Raine isn't like every other guy. Raine can be trusted.
I let out the breath I'd been holding and put on a smile to hold back tears. I tell him how we grew up as best friends. And I tell him how I didn't even realize I liked him in a romantic way until he got a girlfriend. I tell him just about everything about Brendan.
But I don't tell him that it's my fault he drove away mad.
I don't tell him I caused the wreck that killed him.
Chapter 31
The ice cream scoop glides through a fresh tub of cookies and cream, scooping up a ball of deliciousness and dropping it into my bowl. "How many scoops do you want?" Raine asks, digging in the tub again. "However many you're having." I pop open the bottle of chocolate sauce and hold it above the bowl, ready to douse the next scoop of ice cream. The clock on the stove says it's just after two in the morning. "When are your parents getting home?" I ask. Raine's face is all contorted as he digs deeper into the tub, getting to the parts that are still frozen solid. "They aren't coming home tonight. They went to their friend's fiftieth wedding anniversary out at the Flagship Hotel."
"Wow, fifty years," I say, taking my now ready bowl of ice cream and stabbing a spoon into it. "My parents have been married twenty-eight years," he says. I'm no longer able to add to the conversation without ruining it, so I just nod. What would I say? "Oh, my parents have been together negative seventeen years since they never even dated in the first place." Yeah, that would go over well.
"Do you want to watch a movie in here or in my room?" Raine asks. His room has the fifty inch flat screen on the wall, so the answer is obvious. "Your room, duh."
We take our ice cream to Raine's room. He has a gigantic flat screen TV on one wall, his bed in the middle of the room, and a futon on the wall opposite the TV. We relax on the futon with our ice cream, and it's almost a better movie watching experience than in an actual theater. "This TV is awesome," I say, realizing how much of a dork I am, but not caring. After you cry on someone's shoulder for ten minutes, you kind of get over feeling like a dork. "I bought last year on Black Friday," he tells me as he stirs his ice cream over and over again into a cold soup. "I finished my Thanksgiving tour around one in the morning and then I went over to the mall and sat in front of the store."
"No way."
He holds up three fingers in the Boy Scout salute. "Totally. I was the only one for, like half an hour, and then other people showed up. The doors opened at three and this old guy and me raced to the back where the TVs were and we got one for sixty percent off retail."
"Impressive."
We watch Iron Man 2 just long enough to make me forget about my breakdown earlier. Robert Downey Jr. is wearing a sexy undershirt while trying to create a new element, when Raine decides to ruin the moment. "Taylor?" he asks. "Yeah?" I say, not taking my eyes off the screen.
"You said you had to move here when Brendan died." This makes me look at him. He examines his fingernails. "Why?"
"Because he's dead. I couldn't handle the memories any more." I swallow. I hadn't thought it would be so hard to say. Raine looks even more curious now, so I push through my uneasiness and keep talking. "He was my neighbor. I'm pretty sure I was in love with him." I run my hands through my hair, trying to tug out all of the bad thoughts in my head. "I just couldn't live there anymore."
Raine nods, proving to be the best listener on the face of the earth. We turn back to the movie. I think I hear him say something like, "pretty sure."
Chapter 32
On the day of our next tour, Raine calls me at seven in the morning. I'd had a rough night staying up with Mom, consoling her the best I could when all I really wanted to do was laugh and tell her she deserved to be dumped by that idiot she was dating. As Raine's number flashes on the screen, I'm tempted to ignore the call, roll over and go back to sleep. But if he's calling this early…
"This better be good," I say into the phone, still groggy and reeking of morning breath.
"It is both good and bad. Which would you like to hear first?"
"The bad of course."
There's a shuffling on the other end of the line. It sounds like he's flipping through paper or counting copious amounts of cash. I hope it's the latter. "Bad news is that you'll have to give a tour on your own tonight."
"What? Why?" I say, fully awake now. "And no. I don't want to."
"Well too bad, you are."
"What's the good news?"
"Well the good news is that our last tour generated so much press and talk that we've sold out two shows a night for the next week."
My mind races with trying to figure out how much money I normally make per night, doubling it and multiplying that by a week. And the best part is that I won't have to tell Mom any of it. "But I can't give a tour all by myself!" I say, panic rising in my voice. I picture a group of fifty people all standing around waiting for me to direct them…or worse- entertain them. "I'm not like you, Raine. I'm not-"
"You're perfect. Everyone loves you. Besides, it's your tour. You'll keep one hundred percent of the money."
I sit up and throw the covers to the side of the bed. It's a queen sized sleigh bed I bought with my own money. Raine believes I can give a tour by myself, and the guy is never wrong about anything. "Okay," I say. "I'm in."
Raine meets me on the sidewalk in front of the museum, like he always does when we close for the day. He's wearing his jacket, dark jeans and bright blue Nikes. "Nice shoes," I say. He looks at his feet. "I worked out at the Y today, but I forgot to bring different shoes to change into."
"Cool." We stand for a moment, surrounded by the empty town. Usually we can talk for hours, but at the moment I have nothing to say. He kind of ruined things with that whole speech about liking me.
"I brought you an itinerary," he says, handing me a typed paper. Ghost tour it says at the top, followed by a list of places we usually stop at and a brief description of why they are haunted.
"What is this?" I ask, skimming through the list to see if there's anything new. There isn't. "We never have one of these."
"It's just our usual stops, and the stories in case you forge
t."
I give him a look. "Not that you will, it's just as a safety," he amends. "You know," he says, handing me a brand new hole punch in bright purple. "I was kind of joking back when I accused you of wanting to steal my job. And now here I am, giving half of it to you."
"Well I guess my secret plan has worked after all." I smile.
Without warning, Raine closes the space between us with one step. His hand reaches up to my face and the other one grabs my waist. I freeze. Slowly, he bends down to me. His lips are just inches away from kissing me now.
"Raine," I say, letting out a breath I'd been holding. He steps back.This is one of those moments girls dream about. It's almost exactly like what happens in romantic movies, except even before I say it, I know I'm not going to let it happen. I can't do this to Brendan. Even if he isn't here anymore, I just can't do it. "Yes?" he asks, looking into my eyes.
I pull away from his arms and stare at the ground. I'm going to regret this, but I say it anyway. "Don't."
Anna bounces on her heels, gripping her camera tight to her chest. "You have to chill out if you're going to be my assistant," I say, handing her the itinerary for tonight. Raine may have his memorized, but I feel safer with a schedule dotted with notes to remember to include in my stories. "Sorry," she says, slowing the heel-bouncing to a stop. "I'm just so excited!"
"That makes one of us." I turn to face the growing crowd in front of us. Raine scheduled the tours to be thirty minutes apart, so his group has already left. About half of my group has already arrived and I'm still in shock that they didn't see me instead of Raine, turn around and run away.
In fact, the opposite has actually happened. A few people asked if I was Raine's assistant because they've heard great things about me. Another girl said she specifically asked for me to be her guide because she liked how fearless I am. A group of fifteen year old guys offered to be my protector if any ghosts tried to mess with me. Anna liked them the best.
"You can have them," I say, rolling my eyes as one of the boys tries to lift a boulder from the ground. "They are so eager to please us, it's gross."
"They are also younger than us. I'll take Pax any day, thanks," Anna says.
"How are things with Pax?" I ask her. She kicks the ground with her handmade recycled fabric shoes. "Good, I guess. He asked officially asked me to be his girlfriend yet. But his mom likes me. His grandma doesn't, though."
"Why not?"
Anna turns red. "She overheard me say the word shit." Together, we laugh at her misfortune until the clock on the bank tower chimes. "It's time," she says, her eyes getting all wide and excited. A lump forms in my throat. Although I've been through the motions a million times with Raine, it's different when I'm the one who has to do the motions.
I clear my throat. "Hello everyone. Welcome." All eyes turn to me, and I glance at Anna for support. She wiggles the hole punch. Right, that's the next step. "I'd like to thank everyone for coming tonight to experience the wonderful history of Sterling Island. If you will all hold out your tickets, I will have Anna come by and punch them."
The tour goes smoothly for the first hour. I remember all of the stories at each stop, and I even throw in something I learned from the museum about a woman who died on the corner of fifth and post office. Trampled by a runaway horse. Supposedly you can still see her shadow walking across the street like she tried to do all those years ago. The crowd is literally in the palm of my hands as I tell them to listen quietly for the sounds of her heels clicking across the pavement.
"Where are we going now?" Anna asks, digging her itinerary out of her pocket. We're walking along the final stretch of The Strand, only one block away from our starting point. This is the part of the trip where I can be finished and send everyone home, or choose to give them their money's worth and enter the Gomez Hotel.
Raine had said I didn't have to go, but that was before the awkwardness that was last night. Now I want to go just out of spite. I cracked under the pressure last time we went, but tonight I am a rock. I am scared of nothing. My group believes in me too. We stop at an intersection and I climb up on a concrete bench. "Okay guys," I say, projecting my voice. "We have a decision to make. We can end the trip here, or we can go to the Gomez Hotel, where on the fifth floor a woman hung herself." I let the group decide. It's a unanimous yes.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Anna asks when we're far enough in front of the group that no one else can hear us.
"Of course," I say. "I'm the tour guide, and I'm fearless. Remember?"
The woman behind the desk at the hotel is so unfazed with my bringing a group of forty people into the hotel that she doesn't even look up from her cell phone. Anna helps me split the groups into two and we ride up the elevators in pairs. On the fifth floor, my heart beats a little faster. I tell it to shut up and beat normally, like a good heart. We proceed to room five oh five.
My mind goes blank as I stand in front of the room. I know there is a story here, a death or a ghost, or something but now I can't remember it. My neck tingles, reminding me of how its tiny hairs stood on end last time I was in that room. I look across the vast hallway of empty faces staring at me for answers.
"Okay," I say, hoping more words will pop in my head.
"Why does the door have a big hole in it?" a woman says, pointing to where the lock should be. "Ah," I say, information flooding back into me. "This is a very curious room, you see. Whereas all the other hotel doors have that big mechanism that works with a key card-" I sweep my hand to the left and right so everyone can notice the other doors. "They had to remove it from this door. It seems that every time they programmed a keycard for it, the mechanism would mess up and scramble the code. They tried it with several locks, actually."
Pausing for effect, I let that tidbit of information sink into everyone. Anna scurries down the hall with her group, having just left the elevator. "Have you told them the story yet?" she says, nearly out of breath. "I'm excited to hear it again. I was telling my group about it on the way up, but I told them they'd have to hear it from you because I'm no good at stories." Her face turns bright red. "Plus, I'm not the real guide."
The second group joins mine now, creating a huge fire hazard in the hallway in front of room five oh five. Not everyone chose to come to the hotel, so I combine both groups so I only have to do the speech once. My heart gets a surge of energy, both terrified with speaking to such a large group and thrilled that all eyes are on me. And this time, it's not because they're making fun of me. I doubt anyone notices that I've bought my shoes from a thrift store. They all want to hear what I have to say.
So I grant their wish. "In eighteen thirty eight, a naval officer's wife booked this room for several weeks. She had to have some money because even back then, this hotel was a top notch place." I realize I'm rambling, so I go over to the balcony and pull open the doors, revealing the sea. "She specifically wanted this room because it has the best view of the ocean. Now you all know the stories of the widows' walk and how women would wait all day and night for their husband to return from sea. Well, this is just what she did."
My face falls as I look out the window, adding some drama for the group. When the room is quiet enough for me to hear only the ocean crashing onto the shore, I say, "She received word that her husband's ship was attacked by pirates. There were no survivors." The tension in the room is palpable. I mimic one of Raine's mysterious smirks. I point to the ceiling and everyone looks up. "She hung herself from the chandelier."
Cameras click. I don't tell them that the chandelier has been replaced several times since then and that the original one didn't survive the hanging. Despite never wanting to see Raine again, I'm overjoyed with the attention I'm getting. It's as if I'm channeling his charismatic spirit and giving these people the ghost tour they've come to see. One they'll never forget.
Someone points out how romantic it is that she killed herself to be with him. "Actually," I say. "The worst part is that his ship returned two weeks later. It turns
out the pirates attacked a different ship, not his. And you know what he did when he learned of his wife's suicide?" Anna turns to me with wide eyes, having never heard this part of the story from Raine. Well that's because I took it upon myself to do some more research while going through the museum's old newspapers. I smile at her. "He remarried another woman only two months later."
Anna takes the group back to the meeting spot for me. I don't feel bad about lying to her because it was the only way she'd leave me alone in room five oh five. I had told her that Raine wanted me to do some investigating that was top secret. Moving across the large suite, I switch on every lamp and every light. My business here is top secret, but it isn't a mission for Raine. It's my own personal mission for finding Brendan. If I can't get closure from Brendan, then I'll never forgive myself for liking Raine.
I sit on the edge of the bed. My butt sinks into the luxurious hotel supplied mattress. For several moments, I just sit here, waiting for something to happen. When nothing does, I sigh, knowing I'll have to be an ass and talk to thin air.
"Hello," I say, my voice strong and steady. "My name is Taylor. Is anyone here?" Of course no one is here. I'm such a freaking loser. I don't believe in this stuff. Sure, the thing that happened in Graves' Mansion was weird, and probably not just a coincidence, but it's not like anything happened that I can prove. I simply felt something. The human mind is a powerful thing, it can make you see and feel things that aren't actually there.
So why am I here right now?
Brendan believed in a world after death. He never even questioned it even after I told him how stupid he was. I said if there was a magical life after death and a magic God who loved everyone, then why were there poor people? Why do kids starve to death and why do bad people exist? If something magic happens after we die, then why can't magic things happen while we're alive?
I fall back on the bed, resting my arms under my head. "You know, if you're real, you could just come out and show yourself. It'll save me a lot of time laying here feeling like an idiot." I close my eyes. "Fine, don't show yourself. I know you probably don't exist, but if you do then you could really help me. You see, my best friend Brendan is dead. I think he loved me, but I'm not sure. I need to talk to him, if…well you know, if ghosts actually exist."
