Past Midnight

by Mara Purnhagen

  I polished off another slice as Avery took the call. She asked a lot of questions, like “what?” and “when?” and I got the impression that something bad had happened. She flipped her phone shut.

  “I’m so sorry, but we have to go.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  She bit her lower lip. “It’s Dante. My mom said he’s really sick. I need to take him to the emergency vet.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I hope he’s going to be okay.” I offered to go to the vet with her, but Avery said no. We boxed the rest of our pizza and picked up my parents’ order. On the way home, Avery drove on the main road back to our neighborhood, which took less than half the time and made me wonder why we had gone the long way to begin with.

  “I hope Dante will be okay,” I said again before I got out of the car. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”

  “Thanks, Charlotte. I’ll see you later.”

  I delivered the pizzas to my parents, who were in the living room discussing footage with Shane.

  “I’ll start with EVPs this time,” Shane said as he reached for the meat pizza. “I think we got something at the restaurant.”

  “I’d like to hear it.” Dad wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I want to determine if there was a correlation between the ion readings and possible EVPs.”

  I didn’t want to listen to their boring conversation, so I went upstairs to unpack boxes of clothes. My room was cold, and if I didn’t locate my own stuff, I would be wearing Annalise’s sweater until it fell apart. As I sat on the floor and refolded some shirts, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was strange Avery’s dog had gotten sick just hours after I had announced that I didn’t like him. It made me feel as if I was somehow responsible.

  “I don’t hate Dante,” I said out loud. “I want him to get better and be absolutely fine.”

  I waited for a cold breeze or warm, reassuring feeling, but nothing happened. I took a deep breath. What was wrong with me? Did I really believe I had the power to make dogs sick? Was I mental? Normal people didn’t think that way.

  I sat on my bed listening to the muffled voices coming from downstairs. It was my goal to get through the entire school year as someone who passed for normal. Ordinary, even. Making friends with Avery was a good start, I thought. If I could keep my parents from appearing on local TV and made sure they kept their big “Doubt” van hidden in the garage as much as possible, I might be okay. On the outside, at least. And wasn’t that what mattered? You could have all the crazy thoughts you wanted, as long as you smiled and kept them to yourself. People saw only what you allowed them to see, and I planned on showing them Charlotte Silver, a regular, everyday kind of girl.

  I hoped that this time, I could pull it off.

  four

  Annalise called me the day before school began to check in and wish me luck.

  “Have you unpacked everything yet?” she asked.

  I looked around my room. Half the boxes were empty, but I hadn’t taken them downstairs yet. “Almost.”

  She laughed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  I told her all about Avery but left out Dante, whose condition had improved almost overnight.

  “The vet said it must have been something he ate,” Avery explained the day after we’d had pizza. “He’s still sick, but he’s much better than he was last night.” She frowned. “I don’t know what he could have eaten, though. He’s too little to jump up on the counter or get into the trash.”

  I felt relieved—and more than a little silly that I’d ever thought Dante’s sudden illness had anything to do with me. Random breezes and cold spots were just that—random.

  “How’s Charleston?” I asked Annalise. “More important, how are you?”

  “I’m really good, actually. Don’t take this the wrong way, but ever since you guys left, I’ve felt a hundred times better, as if a weight has been lifted off my chest.” She grew quiet. “That awful feeling I had? It just kind of faded.”

  “I’m glad,” I said, trying to stifle a yawn.

  “Am I boring you?” Annalise joked.

  “No. I guess I haven’t been sleeping very well lately.”

  “I’ll let you go, then. Rest up, Charlotte. And have a great first day.”

  After we hung up, I yawned again and glanced at the clock. It was only seven, which was way too early to go to bed, even if I was tired. I hadn’t been staying up late, and I usually slept in until nine or ten, but I was still exhausted. I had been dreaming a lot lately, something that was rare for me. I couldn’t remember the dreams when I woke up—they seemed to slip away from me like sand sifting through my fingers—but more than once I saw the same dark-haired girl reading by an old tree. I awoke feeling as if I’d just visited Charleston, and the sense that I was now in the wrong place would linger for hours afterward.

  Looking around my room, I decided it was time to clear out some of the mess. I scooped up piles of dirty clothes, dropped them into empty boxes and carried one box at a time downstairs, emptying the clothes into the laundry room and flattening the boxes before stacking them in the recycling bin. On my third trip, I stopped to see what my parents were doing. They were in the living room with Shane, and the three of them had earphones on, which meant they were listening to EVPs.

  “I’ve got something,” Dad said loudly. Mom and Shane removed their headphones.

  “From the Courtyard Café?” Shane asked.

  “It’s near the end.” Dad clicked on his computer. The screen showed a voice-analysis screen, which allowed the user to see voice patterns and static. I walked into the room, curious to hear what they’d found. Mom turned around and saw me.

  “Hi, Charlotte.” Her voice was a little too loud, like she wanted to make sure Dad and Shane knew I was there. They stopped what they were doing and turned around, as well.

  “What’d you find?” I asked. “Can I listen to it?”

  Mom and Dad exchanged a glance, and Dad cleared his throat. “Of course you can,” he said. “Just not yet. Let’s wait until we have everything compiled. Then you can hear it all at once.”

  It was not the response I had been expecting. Normally my parents were more than eager to share their findings with me and to get my input. EVPs were usually just a few words, and sometimes they were so soft you could barely make out what, if anything, was being said. Our parents often asked Annalise and me to listen to recordings and give them our first impression. Most of the time, it was just a garble of noise, and our parents would try to prove that another source, such as radio interference, was causing it. Once in a while, though, they recorded a clear word, such as “help” or “hello.” When this happened, they tended to guard it carefully, eliminating any possible explanation of its cause before presenting it to someone outside of the team.

  Which was what they were doing now, I realized. When had I been demoted from “vital member of the team” to suspicious outsider?

  “Fine. Well, I’m going to bed early, I guess. School tomorrow.”

  “Good luck!” Shane said happily.

  “I’ll get you up early,” Mom said. “We can have breakfast together.”

  “Sure. Okay, then. I’m going upstairs.”

  The three of them nodded, still smiling, obviously waiting for me to leave the room before they returned to their findings. I walked slowly, hoping they would get back to work so that I might overhear something. When I reached the doorway, I glanced over my shoulder. They were still watching me.

  “Good night, honey,” Mom said.

  “Sleep tight,” added Dad.

  “Whatever,” I mumbled, retreating up the stairs. I knew they were listening to make sure I went all the way up to my room, so I stomped my feet for their benefit and shut the door to my bedroom with a little more force than necessary.

  I was annoyed with my parents but didn’t have time to dwell on it. Almost immediately after slamming my door, the phone rang.

  “Ready for tomorrow?” It w
as Avery.

  “Everyone keeps asking me that,” I said, plopping down on the floor. I was pleased that I’d cleared so much out of my room, especially the mini mountains of clothes. I now felt more organized. Or, at the very least, not like a complete slob.

  “I’m picking you up at seven-thirty sharp,” Avery reminded me, emphasizing the word sharp. “What are you wearing?”

  We had made a trip to the mall a few days earlier to shop for back-to-school clothes, which was fun because Avery had a talent for finding stuff that looked great on me without being pushy about it.

  “I was planning on wearing those dark pencil jeans and that blue tank top you picked out.”

  “Perfect. I’m wearing my green shirt with that white denim skirt. What do you think?”

  I knew Avery was asking me only as a courtesy, but I appreciated the effort. “Sounds great,” I said.

  Avery and I had spent a lot of time together over the past week. Besides the mall, we’d been back to Giuseppe’s once for lunch and had run a few errands for her mom. She even tried to help me organize my closet one afternoon.

  “You could hang everything by color,” she suggested as she surveyed the piles of clothes scattered across my room.

  “Or I could just do what I always do,” I said, pointing. “Clean goes there and dirty goes over there.”

  She laughed. “What’s that pile, then?”

  “Almost dirty but clean enough to wear once more.”

  “This is a lost cause, I think.” She rubbed her arms. “It’s cold up here.”

  “I think this room gets most of the air-conditioning,” I said. “I can open a window, if you want.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’m thirsty. Let’s go downstairs.”

  Avery had been over twice, but I’d never given her the full tour of my house. Part of me was embarrassed by all the boxes stacked in the corners, but I was more concerned about the questions she’d ask once she saw the living room. Sure enough, after we’d grabbed sodas out of the fridge, she caught a glimpse of the computers and monitors and the hundreds of gray, tangled wires.

  “Wow. What’s all this?”

  “Oh. My parents make, um, documentaries,” I stammered. “They edit everything from home and then send it to their production company.”

  “You’re kidding. What kind of documentaries?”

  “Well, they just finished up filming one about, um, historic buildings in Charleston. Pretty boring stuff.”

  That was basically true, I told myself. I hoped Avery didn’t notice how much I was hesitating. I was an awkward liar.

  “Hey, maybe they can help us.” We had gone into the dining room to watch TV. “The cheerleaders are planning an amazing Homecoming week this year. We want to make a video postcard for the alumni. Maybe your folks could help us edit it?”

  “Yeah, maybe. I’ll ask them later.”

  My parents had been off at a nearby historical society in an attempt to gather information about local landmarks. I had no idea when they were coming back, but I really didn’t want Avery around asking them any questions. They’d have no problem revealing everything to her, and I wasn’t ready for that. So far, she saw me as a normal, slightly messy girl who trusted her fashion sense and liked pepperoni pizza. It was too soon to ask her to accept me as some sort of teenaged Ghostbuster, as well.

  I was able to get Avery to leave before my parents came home, but I knew it wasn’t something I could keep up for too long. Eventually, she would run into them and the truth would come out. We’d been living in the house for three weeks, though, and so far, so good. Shane had been driving the “Doubt” van and kept it parked at his new apartment across town, and my parents were fully occupied with editing their Charleston footage.

  Avery and I talked a little more about school the next day. After we hung up I yawned, my eyelids feeling heavy. Part of me wanted to remain on the floor and fall asleep right where I was, but I knew I should get up, wash my face and curl up under the warm covers.

  “Too cold,” I mumbled.

  A second later, I felt a warm sensation, almost as if someone was lowering a blanket onto me.

  “Charlotte.” It was just a whisper, faint and far away. I was drifting in that hazy space between asleep and awake, but I felt tugged toward sleep and had the sense that I was sinking slowly. I felt cool grass beneath me, and I could smell jasmine in the air. I was back at the park in Charleston where Annalise and I had eaten lunch a few weeks before, near the same tree where the dark-haired girl in my dreams liked to read. I felt as if I was waiting for the girl to arrive. In fact, I felt sure that she would arrive at any moment, that I should stay exactly where I was.

  “Charlotte?”

  I opened my eyes. Mom was standing over me, looking down. I sat up, confused.

  “I fell asleep,” I mumbled.

  “You were talking.” Mom reached down and helped pull me up.

  “What did I say?”

  “I’m not sure. It was more like whispering.” Mom cocked her head to one side. “You okay?”

  “Just tired. I’m going to bed now.” I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. When I returned, Mom had picked up the last of my dirty clothes, including Annalise’s pink sweater.

  “I’ll take these downstairs for you,” she said. She leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Sleep well. See you in the morning.”

  I got into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. It was a hard and dreamless sleep, and when I woke up early the next morning, I felt more rested than I had in weeks. I had the vague impression that something odd had occurred the night before, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Had I been dreaming?

  As I showered, I decided that everything was fine. I’d experienced some strange sensations, but I was living in a new place and that was bound to happen. Maybe I was just extra sensitive to temperature in the South. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t that big of a deal. I wouldn’t let myself dwell on it. Besides, I had more important things to focus on.

  It was time to introduce Charlotte Silver, Average Ordinary Girl, to the rest of the senior class.

  five

  Avery wasn’t kidding when she said seven-thirty sharp. I was just peeling a banana when I heard two quick honks of a car in the driveway. I glanced at the kitchen clock: 7:29.

  “That’s my cue,” I said to Mom. She was still in her bathrobe, sitting at the kitchen counter and sipping a cup of coffee.

  “Good luck, hon. Have a great day.”

  I gathered up my backpack and left the house just as Avery honked once more. I slid into the passenger seat and smiled.

  “A little impatient, aren’t we?”

  She pulled out of the driveway. “Sorry. I hate being late, is all.”

  I settled into my seat. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  My parents and I had driven past the school once, and it was no more than ten minutes from our house. Even if there was morning traffic, we would get to school with about half an hour to spare.

  “You still need to pick up your schedule,” Avery reminded me. She had received hers in the mail the week before, but since I registered so late, I had to stop by the main office to pick up mine.

  Avery chatted about some of her friends. “They’re really nice,” she said. “You’ll like them.”

  “Are they all cheerleaders?”

  She glanced at me. “Yes. But don’t worry. We’re not cliquey or snobby or anything. You’ll fit right in.”

  “So they won’t try to recruit me? I’m highly uncoordinated. I can barely clap in rhythm.”

  Avery grinned. “You may want to work on that. But no recruiting, I promise. We will not try to bring you over to the dark side.”

  I noticed that, once again, we were taking a shortcut that was anything but short. In fact, it seemed like Avery never took the main road if she could avoid it, even if it meant driving miles out of her way. I asked her about it once after we took the long way to pick up medicine from Dante’s vet.


  “I don’t like heavy traffic,” she had said with a shrug. “And I want to be careful with my new car.”

  We arrived at school, and Avery turned into the section reserved for seniors. About half a dozen girls stood in one corner. When they saw Avery’s car, they all waved happily, then parted like a wave. They had been blocking off a specific space, I realized, to make sure that no one else could park there.

  We stepped out of the car and were greeted by a chorus of hellos. Some of the girls offered Avery quick hugs. They complimented her clothes and said how great it was to see her. I hung back, waiting to be introduced.

  “This is Charlotte,” Avery said finally. “She just moved here from Charleston.”

  The girls smiled and looked at me closely. I smiled in return, suddenly self-conscious. They were sizing me up, I thought, judging whether or not I would be accepted into their circle. I was sure Avery had told them about me, but how much?

  “Do you cheer?” asked one. I wasn’t sure who had spoken. All the girls had long, light-colored hair and perfect tans.

  “Uh, no. Sorry, I don’t cheer.”

  Avery laughed. “But we’ll overlook that one little personality flaw, won’t we?” she asked, and the other girls giggled at the joke.

  “Any friend of Avery’s is a friend of ours,” said a girl to my left, and the others nodded and murmured their agreement. I relaxed a little. Avery suggested we go to the main office to pick up my class schedule, and we all walked as one big group across the parking lot and into the school.

  We attracted more than a little attention as we made our way through the wide, crowded hallways. The girls pointed out to me where the cafeteria was and chatted about who they had for English and math. When we got to the office, they formed a semicircle behind me as I waited for the secretary to locate my schedule.

  “Your locker number and combination are here,” said the frowning woman as she pointed to the bottom of my schedule. Then she noticed Avery, and something in her face softened.

  “How are you, dear?” she asked. Genuine concern filled her voice.