Ever Near (Secret Affinity Book 1)

by Melissa MacVicar

  “Oh. Why was that ghost tour guy here?” Brendan looks skeptical, darting his eyes over to me and then back to Charlie.

  “I don’t know.” Charlie walks toward his brother. “I guess he’s wandering around looking for new lies to tell on his stupid tour.”

  “Freak,” Brendan says with a chuckle. “Did you catch anything?”

  “No,” Charlie answers and walks out of the mudroom with Brendan, effectively leading his brother away from me like a mother bird protecting her young by diverting a predator from the nest.

  I wonder if Charlie believes me even a little bit. He hasn’t said a word about Lacey since our nap. When we woke up, we kissed again. Like a real live make-out session. Me giggling into his neck. Him nibbling on my ear. I’m falling hard. Scratch that. I was falling hard. Now, I’ve crash landed into his lap. The one boy I totally can’t have. The one boy who’s completely off limits. But do you think my stupid, cavewoman brain will listen to any reasoning when he’s kissing me in the cabin of his boat? No. All my brain is thinking about is how friggin sexy he is and how good he is at kissing.

  And then we arrive home to find Martin Fitzgerald on the sidewalk, asking about our fair home. Geesh! I need to find out what else Martin’s done besides show up here. I can’t let him ruin my life.

  I head to my room and send a text a to Ally. Can I sleep over?

  I need to get the hell out of this place if I’m going to have any peace. While I wait for her answer, I pull up my supposedly anonymous Gmail—Ha!—and begin drafting a response to my stalker.

  Mr. Fitzgerald,

  I can’t believe you hacked my e-mail. There’s a reason I wanted to stay anonymous, and if you ever come near me again, I’ll call the cops. You could get in a lot of trouble, especially since I’m only sixteen.

  I stare at the blinking cursor for several minutes, trying to decide how to sign the letter. “Anon” seems moot at this point, but I don’t want to put my name, either. Yeah, I’m that paranoid. Finally, I tap Send because I realize I don’t need to sign it at all.

  My phone pings with a text.

  Ally: Sure. Come over whenever.

  I respond, Great, and head for the bathroom. I take a steaming hot shower, which helps me relax a little. When I return to my room, I find a new e-mail from Martin.

  Dear Anon,

  I’m sorry for scaring you today. I see now that visiting you wasn’t a good idea. I will be upstairs at the Atheneum tomorrow morning at ten if you’d like to speak with me further. I think I know who your ghost is. Please come, and I’ll tell you.

  Sincerely,

  Martin

  He knows Lacey? He must know the history of Fair-Ever. I couldn’t find anything when I searched online, but if Martin knows the family names of the past owners, he’d have better luck. And if Lacey did hang herself, there might be records of that.

  I don’t have time to straighten my hair, so I apply the leave-in conditioner that makes it form nice, even ringlets and throw on some comfy clothes. I’m packing a bag for Ally’s when there’s a knock at my door. “Come in.”

  Charlie enters, freshly showered and smiling. Seeing him relaxed eases my worry that his anger and disbelief will return. His broad shoulders fill out the blue T-shirt he wears, and I smell cologne. I realize he must have just sprayed it on for me.

  His smile fades when his gaze falls on my backpack. “Where are you going?”

  “Ally’s. So I can get some sleep.”

  He frowns. “I thought…” He glances down the hall. “I thought I was gonna stay with you tonight.” He reaches for my hand.

  Annoyance curls in my stomach. Is he just worried about getting in another make-out session? Maybe getting to second base? He doesn’t seem to be thinking about what’s best for me at all. “Why? You don’t even believe me yet. You still want proof, right?” I keep my voice hushed, but my irritation rings through loud and clear.

  “Jade…” He tugs on my hand to pull me closer.

  I pull out of his grip and fold my arms over my chest.

  “I want to believe you, Jade. I do. It just seems so crazy.” He runs his hand through his damp hair and looks toward the ceiling.

  “I know. What happens to me is crazy. That’s why I’ve never told anyone. Before you.” I think about Martin, though. He believes me. He may dress like a weirdo and give stupid tours, but he doesn’t think I’m crazy. Should I tell Charlie about the most recent email? I’m afraid it’ll make him mad again. Or maybe worried. Martin does seem like a loose cannon.

  “Maybe we should tell your mom. About us. And about the ghost.”

  “No!” I glance toward the door. “Definitely not. She’d never understand.”

  Would Charlie go to my mom? I can’t be sure, so I quickly decide my best course of action is information-lockdown mode. This strategy has worked for me so far, and Charlie just got himself put back on double-secret probation for that comment.

  “Even about us?” he asks. “I think my dad would be cool about it.” He shrugs as if our relationship is no big deal.

  What exactly does he think we’d say about us at this point? We kissed? Charlie said we’d never be related? Yeah, that’s not a good idea.

  “My mom wouldn’t like us being together at all.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because this”—I gesture around me—“is her newfound happiness, and I’d be messing it up.”

  Charlie takes my hand again. “No, you wouldn’t.” He pulls me over to sit on the bed with him.

  I let myself be led this time because I can see that he’s worried and confused. Maybe I shouldn’t be so tough on him. He does seem to be taking the ghost stuff pretty well, all things considered. We sit for a few seconds, just holding hands, lacing and unlacing our fingers, rubbing each other’s palms. I ponder the gravity of the situation, the utter lose/lose that it is.

  I squeeze his hand. “Not yet. Okay? Please?”

  “Okay.” He squeezes back. “I can give you a ride to Ally’s if you want.”

  “Okay.” I exhale loudly. “I gotta talk to my mom first, though.”

  Chapter 11

  “I’ll take you. I don’t mind.” My mother stands in front of the open fridge, sliding around yogurts and cans of soda.

  If some of the boys’ friends were here, like Ryan and Nick, they’d be enjoying the view because my mother is wearing her Daisy Dukes with a fitted tee. Charlie doesn’t look at my mother in this way, though. Thank God. But I’ve seen other boys ogling her. I even heard a MILF comment once. Boys can be so gross.

  “I don’t mind,” Charlie says. He’s leaning against the breakfast bar and eating sour-cream-and-onion chips. If I didn’t know better, I would say he had no ulterior motive. He’s being completely casual about the whole ride deal, and it’s good to know he can play our parents so well.

  Mom turns to grin at Charlie. “I have to run to the store anyway. I can’t seem to keep up with the way you boys eat.”

  I note the wrinkles around her eyes and the tightness of her smile, and my stomach sinks. I know what this look means. I know she wants to take me because she wants to talk to me, and I’m afraid I know why. My mother may be a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.

  “Can you get that blue cheese?” Mike asks, never raising his eyes from his computer screen. “The one you got last time. That was good.” He’s seated at the kitchen table with his laptop, probably reading legal documents or doing other lawyerly stuff.

  Charlie makes a face. “Dad, that stuff is so nasty. It smells like a dead animal.”

  The boys love making fun of Mike for his quirky habits. Like how he never wears sandals or flip flops. Always boat shoes or loafers or sneakers. And how he has to comb his hair just so and almost always has a collared shirt on. He only wears T-shi
rts if he’s working out, and even then, they look as though they just came back from the dry cleaner. One of these days, maybe I’ll start teasing Mike too. I think he might like that, and that’s why I’m not quite ready to give it. Yeah, I know.

  “I realize that, but I can’t help it. I love the stuff,” Mike replies. He’s still looking at the screen, unfazed by his son’s teasing.

  “No problem, honey,” Mom says to Mike. She saunters over to the end of the breakfast bar and jots down a few more items on her list. Interrogate Jade is probably number one. “Are you ready now?” she asks me.

  “Yeah. All set.”

  “Bye, Jade,” Charlie says, heading for the stairs. And because my mother isn’t looking, he gives me the laser-beam eye. He can’t say what he wants to say, but we both know what the other is thinking. When did that happen?

  Once we’re in the car, Mom starts right in. “So how’s the adjustment going? Moving in and everything?”

  “Fine.” I fold my arms over my chest and stare out the window.

  “You seem a little on edge. Is everything okay?” Her voice is almost sing-songy. Nicey-nice.

  “Yup.”

  “When did you and Charlie decide to go boating?”

  Like a magician doing a trick, I need to draw her eye away from the switcheroo I’m about to pull. “Do you think I could go stay with Dad? After the wedding?”

  Mom purses her lips. “What?” We’re bumping up Main Street on the cobblestones, headed for Pleasant Street.

  “I want to go see Dad. In August,” I say. “Maybe for the whole month. I was thinking it would be good for me to spend some time with him.”

  “Wow. Okay. This is new. Have you discussed this with him?” I’ve knocked her off balance. Like a figure skater getting flattened by some hockey brat during open skate, Mom’s going down.

  “Yeah. He said we had to talk to you.”

  “Jade, a month is a long time. I’ll have to think about it. And talk to him.”

  We’re sitting in a line of traffic at a mid-island stop sign. Nantucket has no stoplights, just rotaries and four-way stops that make the tourists flake out.

  Mom rolls down her window and rests her elbow on the door. “It’s not because of Charlie or Brendan, is it? Because you seem to be getting along fine with them.”

  If she only knew how well in Charlie’s case. “No. They’re fine. I just want to see Dad. Is there something wrong with me wanting to see my father?” My tone turns indignant. She’s always coming up with excuses for me not to go to Colorado and guilt-tripping is sometimes a good way to get what I want.

  “No, of course there’s nothing wrong with that. I would miss you, though.” She smiles at me. Ugh. She’s got the reverse guilt trip going now.

  “But you’ll talk to him? You’ll call him?” Getting my parents to talk usually takes an act of Congress.

  The line of cars starts to move, and Mom puts her foot on the gas. “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.” She sighs as if talking to Dad is a heavy burden.

  The money for the ticket certainly isn’t an issue now that she has her rich lawyer to foot the bills. I’m feeling pretty smug because I managed to get her off the topic of my boat ride with Charlie. Regardless of what gets decided about my escape to the mountains, this conversation was a win for me.

  We pull into Ally’s driveway. Ally lives on a crappy street in a crappy subdivision. The houses are all prefabricated and stand very close together. Her parents are divorced, but her dad is a total deadbeat and doesn’t pay child support. Plus she hasn’t seen him in years. What a loser.

  “I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow?” Mom asks.

  “Yeah. I work eleven to five.”

  “Okay. Behave tonight.”

  “I will. We’re staying in.” I exit the car before she can give me any more orders.

  Chapter 12

  “Oh my God! Look at your hair!” Ally shrieks when she opens the door. She’s wearing a Gap T-shirt stretched tightly across her chest and a knit skirt. Even with no makeup, her face is angelic—a faint sprinkling of freckles and large blue eyes clear as glass.

  “I didn’t have time to straighten it,” I grumble, following her to the stairs. Ally and I have mutual hair lust—she loves my curls, and I love her natural straightness.

  “Is that Jade?” Billy calls from the living room.

  Her brother and his friends love to harass me. Harassment is their twisted idea of flirting, but to me, it’s just annoying. Billy’s like a boy version of Ally, only sort of scrawny and gross from his hippy-hygiene plan—which means no showering and too many hits off his giant bong.

  “Shut up!” Ally yells.

  “Come here, Jade baby! I want my hug!” he says. His friends laugh.

  “You’re a disgusting pig!” Ally answers as we chug up the stairs.

  In her room, I set my bag down and flop onto her beanbag chair. Ally’s room is immaculate and completely decorated in purple and lime green. She bought or made almost everything in here using her own money from scooping ice cream at the Juice Bar. She wants to go to design school if she can figure out a way to afford it.

  “Rough day?” she asks. She’s sitting on her bed, which is a foot higher off the floor than a normal bed so she can store stuff in fluorescent-green wicker baskets underneath.

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”

  “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or do I have to guess?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just weird living with the Dowlers and stuff.” The stuff is the key part. The stuff is where the lies lie.

  “Is that all?”

  “No.” I grin at her because I want to tell her now. I really want to hear what she has to say about Charlie and me making out on his boat.

  “Well… spill.”

  “You have to swear you won’t tell anyone. This is very big and possibly very bad.”

  “I swear. You know I never tell.” She scoots to the edge of the bed.

  “Charlie kissed me today,” I say, completely deadpan.

  “Oh my God! I knew it!”

  “You knew what?” When did she gain the ability to read minds?

  “I knew he liked you, and I knew this was going to happen!”

  “Shh, don’t be so loud.” I join her on her bed, so we can talk without raising our voices. The last thing I need is for Billy or his friends to hear. The walls at Ally’s are paper thin. I might have to smother her with her own bedding to shut her up.

  “Where were you? Was he a good kisser?”

  We lie down, facing each other on our sides as if we’re still seven years old and giggling about potty jokes instead of boys. “We went out on the boat. And he was fantastic.”

  “The boat? That is so cool!”

  “Yeah, but it’s wrong too. He’s almost my freaking stepbrother, Al. Like we can’t go out for real. No one would think that was okay.”

  “I think it’s okay. I think it’s awesome. How far did you go?”

  “We just made out.”

  “What did he say? Was he like all romantic or all sexy or what?” She reaches out and touches my key, straightening it on its chain.

  “Both.” I giggle because talking about this like we’d talk about any other boy is fun. With Ally, I feel as if I can almost block out the bad parts. Almost. “He wants to tell our parents, though. Already.”

  “That’s a good sign. That means he’s sort of serious. He doesn’t want to just hook up in secret.”

  “I don’t know.” I roll over onto my back. “I’m so confused. How is this even going to work?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but I know you should be happy. He’s so friggin’ hot and popular, and he’s going to be a senior.”

  Someone knocks on the doo
r.

  “I’m ready for my hug now, Jade.” Billy, trying to sound all dreamy, huffs on the other side. Snickers from his posse drift in, too.

  “Billy! So help me God!” Ally jumps up and stomps over to open it, but they’ve retreated down the stairs like a herd of cattle.

  Billy and his friends have treated me this way ever since I grew boobs, so I’m sort of used to them, but the ribbing drives Ally nuts. I think that’s part of the appeal for Billy. Plus, some of his friends are black, and they hassle me about white guys. I get the “come over to the dark side” and “once you go black” stuff from them. Billy thinks they’re hilarious, and it’s sort of like a game between them—a competition.

  “Are you working tomorrow?” I ask when Ally returns to the bed.

  “Yeah. At ten.”

  “That’s great. I go in at eleven.”

  Sleeping in will be wonderful, so I try to focus on the positive and not think about meeting up with Martin. As much as I don’t want to see him, I need to hear what he knows about Lacey. Maybe his claim is a load of crap, just his way of luring me into telling him more stuff, but I still have to go. I’ll just have to be careful not to let him trick me into revealing too much.

  I hug Ally. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

  “You know you always can. Anytime.”

  In moments like this, I consider telling Ally about the ghosts. She should already know, considering she was around for the first two. She definitely knows something is up, but she probably thinks something along the same lines as Charlie. A bad thing happened to Jade, but she doesn’t want to talk about it. The girl’s got issues. Baggage. Let’s leave it at that, and when she’s ready, she’ll talk.

  The problem is, I never seem to be ready with Ally. This may be a serious character flaw on my part. I may be a person who never really trusts anyone, never lets anyone fully into her life, and that’s very sad to think about.