Ghostgirl

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Ghostgirl Page 16

by Tonya Hurley


  “Um, thanks,” Scarlet said. “I had…” She searched her brain for the perfect word, but could only come up with a limp, “… fun.”

  “Me too.” Damen nodded shyly. “See you… soon?” Neither of them saw Petula watching bitterly from her bedroom window. They didn’t even think to look, seeing that it was Saturday night, and for Petula Kensington to be home on a Saturday night was, well, Amish.

  Damen walked down the stone path as he had so many times before, but noticed this time it felt very different. He got in his car, pushed the CD function on his Bang & Olufsen stereo, and as Transatlanticism played, he replayed every detail of the night.

  The next morning, Scarlet went to tape a more formal thank-you note on Damen’s locker, but noticed it was open and decided to place her note inside instead. His recent Physics assignment was leaning against the door and fell out onto the floor. She picked it up and immediately noticed the big fat “F” written in red on the top.

  Scarlet knew that Damen hadn’t failed—she had. Without giving it a second thought, she ran down the hall and straight to the abandoned wing of the school, sucking air and swallowing her pride along the way.

  There was no life in that wing of the school. It had been “under construction” for longer than anyone could remember, but no work ever seemed to be done or even planned for it. It was a place lost in time, a place forgotten. At least it looked that way to Scarlet.

  Scarlet pulled away a few of the loose boards that walled off the wing from the rest of the school and entered. It smelled like old people and wet cardboard. She walked around, looking in different classrooms, but didn’t see anyone, “anyone” being Charlotte. She started to fear that maybe something had happened to her or maybe Scarlet couldn’t see her anymore because of their falling out at the F.C.O. party. Maybe Charlotte was gone for good.

  Scarlet gazed out through the dirty glass windows into the courtyard nestled in the middle of the square wing. Overgrown with weeds and creeping ivy, cracked pavement, stone benches and statues caked with moss, the courtyard resembled an old cemetery more than the English-style garden it was supposed to be.

  Charlotte—who was in the corner, out of Scarlet’s view—approached Pam, who was studying. She held up a really cool dream catcher that she had made herself.

  “Peace offering,” Charlotte said as handed it to Pam.

  “Dream catcher? You just don’t get it,” Pam huffed.

  “You can hang it in your room,” Charlotte said hopefully.

  “How ironic, seeing as I’m not going to have a room much longer thanks to you,” Pam said as she turned away, showing Charlotte her back.

  “Look, I’m sorry.” Charlotte said, mustering the courage to apologize even though she knew how trivial it would sound after the way she’d disregarded Pam and the others.

  “It will never happen again,” Charlotte assured her. “I’ll make this up to you and to everybody.”

  Pam, who always had a soft spot for Charlotte and her antics, smiled and decided to let Charlotte grovel a little and apologize profusely and then to let bygones be bygones.

  “I’m done with all the fantasies, Pam. I want to come back,” Charlotte said.

  Pam turned to face Charlotte and accept her apology but saw someone she didn’t expect instead. There was Scarlet, standing in the entranceway. Pam felt hurt and played for a fool.

  “What are you trying to do, set me up as an alibi?” Pam bristled, showing an angry side Charlotte had never seen.

  Charlotte flashed a confused look. She tried to speak in her own defense but broke out in a hacking cough instead.

  “I’ve tried to help you, Charlotte, but I’m not going down with you,” Pam continued, sounding wounded and feeling betrayed.

  Watching Charlotte cough her head off, Pam was tempted to smack her on the back as she’d done before, but walked away instead.

  Now that Charlotte was alone, Scarlet walked out from the shadows and tapped her on the shoulder from behind.

  “Hey,” Scarlet said.

  “You scared me,” Charlotte said, startled.

  “How’s that for role reversal?” Scarlet said, trying to make light of the situation.

  “What are you doing? You can’t be seen out here,” Charlotte whispered as she led Scarlet deep into a corner behind thick brush.

  Scarlet reached into her bag and pulled out Damen’s F paper.

  “An F?” Charlotte said, stunned.

  “This isn’t just about us anymore. He trusted me, well, us, and now he’s got no girlfriend, he’s failing Physics, and will probably be kicked off the football team,” Scarlet said.

  “So, does this mean that you’re back in?” Charlotte asked, unable to control herself and live up to the promise she made to Pam just minutes before.

  “It’s more like you are back in,” Scarlet replied.

  Pam watched from a distance as Scarlet and Charlotte reconciled and realized that Charlotte had once again picked Scarlet over her and the Living over the Dead.

  18

  Play Me

  Get me away from here I’m dying Play me a song to set me free Nobody writes them like they used to So it may as well be me.

  —Belle and Sebastian

  Life is a series of choices.

  Fun-house magicians and psychics ask us questions and offer us choices as a way to ascertain the things we most want to hear. In other words, they manipulate us. Charlotte and Scarlet wanted Damen to make his choice on his own. But he had no idea there was even a choice to be made.

  It was a gloomy, stormy afternoon and the band room was set up for the big Fall recital. The risers stretched the entire length and width of the room, and there was very little space to walk. The periodic lightning bolts caused the snare drums to vibrate on cue, and the woodwinds, hanging like marionettes on their cold, sterile stands, were rattling along with rolling thunder in the distance.

  Charlotte, in possession of Scarlet once again, entered and looked around for Damen in the half-lit room. As she scanned the chairs, a piece of paper hit her in the head.

  “Up here,” Damen said in a loud whisper.

  She lifted her delicate chin and saw him at the top of the band riser, waving her up.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as she took her seat.

  “Oh yeah, I just have something else on my mind,” she replied as she opened up the Physics book and laid it out for both of them to see.

  Yeah, me too,” he said as he closed her book. “Let me get unzipped so we can get started.”

  Charlotte was dumbfounded. She opened her book back up and tried to keep it together, but at the sound of a zipper opening, she lost it.

  “Wait! What are you doing?” she said as she sank her nose down deeper in her book and tried to forget the locker room incident.

  “Pulling it out,” he responded.

  “No, no, no…,” she pleaded as she closed her eyes. Relief swept over her as she peeked and saw him take out his guitar out of its case.

  “Play that song you played yesterday,” Damen said.

  “Oh, no, no, I can’t. I mean, I couldn’t,” Charlotte replied nervously.

  Damen placed the guitar in her arms and she awkwardly tried to cradle it like someone holding a newborn for the first time.

  Charlotte tried to act naturally, but it was obvious that she didn’t even know how to hold a guitar, let alone play one.

  “Hey, what about the cello? I can play that,” she suggested.

  Damen laughed, thinking she was joking. “What cello?” he asked.

  He leaned in closer and prompted her to begin. Uncertain what to do, she grabbed a bow from a nearby violin and rubbed it over the six-string like a virtuoso classic rock guitar God.

  “Scarlet unplugged,” Damen said in utter surprise.

  “That’s me,” Charlotte replied.

  She smiled nervously and, after fumbling around on it a little, started playing a beautifully airy tune. Damen was charmed.

 
“Definitely not the song you were playing yesterday,” he said.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I like it. It’s… different,” he replied.

  “Well, you know how much I love playing guitar, but maybe we should actually study?” Charlotte said.

  “Study?” Damen replied. “What’s with you today?”

  Charlotte couldn’t keep up the guitar charade much longer so she turned the conversation back around to her strength. Her thing was Physics, and she wanted Damen to like her thing just as much as he liked Scarlet’s.

  “Check this out.” Charlotte opened her Physics book to a diagram.

  “Yeah?” Damen replied.

  “It’s a sound wave,” she proudly announced as she plucked the guitar string.

  “I don’t get that stuff,” Damen said.

  “Sound is the disturbance of mechanical energy that flows through matter as a wave,” Charlotte explained. “It’s invisible, but it is still there.

  Charlotte noted the vacant look on Damen’s face.

  “How can I explain this?” she thought out loud. Charlotte held up the neck of the guitar.

  “A guitar string makes no sound,” she instructed, pointing to the silent E string, “until it makes contact with your body.”

  She took Damen’s hand in hers and plucked the guitar string with his finger.

  “When the connection is made, the vibration of the string creates a wave, which you hear when it reaches your eardrum,” she finished.

  Damen was amazed that he was learning his assignment without even realizing it.

  “So, without a body… the strings couldn’t do much at all,” Charlotte said, making a larger point. “They need each other.”

  “A Bell Is a Cup Until It Is Struck,” said Damen proudly, hoping his summation of Charlotte’s lesson via an obscure reference to Wire’s classic album title would score him some points. It didn’t. “That’s cool,” Damen said, feeling like an idiot.

  “That’s sound,” Charlotte gushed. “You’ll definitely be a better guitar player if you know how one works, so just think of acoustics as guitar practice.”

  As Damen flipped back through the Physics lesson of his own accord, it was clear that she had made an impression.

  “I almost forgot… I made you something,” she said as she ran down to the bottom of the riser and fetched her bag.

  She ran back to Damen and handed him a small container. Just as she did, Scarlet’s shadow moved across the floor as she peeked in through the doorway.

  “What’s this?” Damen asked as he opened the bag and pulled out a black-and-white cookie.

  “You made me a cookie? I didn’t figure you for the Betty Crocker type,” he said.

  “Oh, it’s nothing…,” she said. “Lame, right?”

  Damen took a bite right down the middle, where the black and white icing met.

  “The best of both worlds,” he joked, devouring the cookie.

  Desperate to interfere in the warm and fuzzy scene, Scarlet forced open the window, allowing the cold rain to dampen their little moment. Damen immediately took off his varsity jacket and put it around Charlotte’s shoulders, much to Scarlet’s dismay.

  “I like this side of you…,” he said.

  Suddenly an emotion that had been completely alien to Scarlet washed over her as her shadow receded back through the doorway. She was jealous.

  The next day, before class, Charlotte snuck a smiley-face cupcake into Damen’s locker. When he finally got to it and opened the door, he was stunned to find the cupcake, only it had been “Scarletized” with a facial piercing, horns, and evil grin.

  Damen turned to find Charlotte-as-Scarlet coming down the hall, fresh from that day’s possession ritual.

  “Hey, Betty Rocker!” Damen called out to her.

  Charlotte looked confused.

  “I can’t believe you did this. I never know what you are going to come up with,” he said as he sunk his finger into the icing and licked it.

  Charlotte looked at the cake and saw what Scarlet had done.

  “Neither do I,” she said.

  “It’s almost like you’re two different people,” he said.

  “Which one do you like better?” Charlotte responded, seeing it as her opportunity to settle things once and for all.

  “Thankfully, I don’t have to choose,” he said as he took a bite out of the cake.

  19

  Dirty Little Secret

  Never seek to tell thy love Love that never told can be; For the gentle wind does move Silently, invisibly.

  —William Blake

  You can’t have it both ways.

  Love is too powerful to hide for very long. Deny it and suffer the consequences. Acknowledge it and suffer the consequences. Revealing it can either be shameful or it can be liberating. It is for others to decide which it will be.

  Charlotte and Scarlet were hanging out in Scarlet’s room together, but each felt as if they were living in different worlds for the first time. Scarlet was sprawled out on her bed, surrounded by deep crushed-velvet cushions, sketching innocent, big-eyed porcelain dolls with freaky out-of-proportion body parts while Charlotte paced the floor like a caged tiger.

  The tension was thick and Charlotte was dying to confront Scarlet over what happened with Damen and her cupcake, but she didn’t want to rock the boat, fearing that Scarlet would ban her from her body again.

  Desperate for approval, Charlotte walked over to Scarlet’s guitar and pressed her fingers on the sharp bronze thatch of twisted strings on the gearhead.

  “He’s only with you because of me,” she blurted out antagonistically.

  Scarlet continued sketching and didn’t even look up.

  “I mean, you know that, right?” Charlotte said as she plopped down on the bed and got in Scarlet’s face.

  “This whole thing was your idea and you’re mad?” Scarlet asked, still refusing to look Charlotte’s way. “Maybe you should go stick your head in the freezer; it’s going bad.”

  Charlotte got up and walked over to Scarlet’s Death Cab for Cutie tour poster on the wall. Trying to unnerve Scarlet, she ran her fingers down the side as if she was giving herself the worst paper cut ever. For anyone else it would be hard to watch, but Scarlet did not want to give her any satisfaction.

  “I just want you to realize that he only responds to you when I’m in you, that’s all,” Charlotte added.

  They both turned their attention to the antique-framed plasma TV on Scarlet’s wall: a promo for a dating show was on.

  “Find out who he’ll choose… next,” the announcer said ominously.

  Scarlet and Charlotte exchanged a look.

  “Really? Well, why don’t we let him decide?” Scarlet replied smugly.

  The following morning, Scarlet and Charlotte decided to play out their own little game in the school’s pool well before gym classes started.

  The only lights on were the ones under the water, which made for a very spooky setting as the dim beams of light were refracted all around the concrete cocoon. The smell of chlorine and mildew reddened Scarlet’s eyes just a little.

  “Okay, so, just like the TV show, we’re going to take turns being with him. I’ll go first, then we switch, and we’ll see which one of us he ‘responds’ to,” Scarlet said.

  “This isn’t fair. This place is so dark… so creepy… so… you,” Charlotte said as she looked around the room. “I never took you for the swimming type.”

  “We’re not here for the water,” she said as she turned up her iPod and slid it into the LifePod stereo system that doubled as a messenger bag. The music bounced off of the cement walls and tiled floor as if they were in a nightclub. “We’re here for the acoustics.”

  “How is this going to work for me?” Charlotte asked.

  “Sorry, I can’t hear you!” Scarlet yelled, cranking the music up even louder.

  Both girls’ attention turned to the door as it creaked open. Damen walked
through the darkened doorway, heard the music blaring, and walked toward it.

  Charlotte quickly disappeared and then reappeared at the top of the diving board, watching the scene below.

  “Why are we meeting at the pool? We usually at least pretend to study,” Damen said as he moved closer.

  Damen took a seat on the bench next to her. The pool light gave off an eerie glow that surrounded them like lava at the mouth of a volcano. Shadows from the rippling water danced across Scarlet’s face, mesmerizing Damen as he tried to get a few words out of his head and over his tongue.

  “I-I’ve been wanting to tell you something…,” he stammered.

  Charlotte was beside herself. Fearing what he might say to Scarlet, she swooped down from her perch on the diving board and possessed her prematurely.

  Scarlet was expelled abruptly from her own body, landing on the side of the pool, confused at first and then just angry.

  “I hope that it’s not that you’re afraid of the water…,” Charlotte said, finishing his thought and continuing the conversation barely missing a beat. Without waiting for his reply, Charlotte seductively stripped down to Scarlet’s vintage camisole and matching boy short–style underwear and jumped in the pool.

  “No way,” he mouthed, not believing his eyes or his luck.

  Damen pulled off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, and dived in after her.

  Scarlet was paralyzed with disgust and rage. She couldn’t believe the depth that Charlotte had sunk to.

  “I thought a little dip before studying would clear our heads,” Charlotte said.

  “Yeah, I’m thinking clearer already,” Damen said with a slight shiver, staring at her makeshift bathing suit, which was becoming sheerer and tighter the wetter it got.

  “Hey, race you to the end?” he said, trying to burn off some of the hormones raging inside him.

  Both of them took off for the far side of the pool, arms and legs flailing. He could have won easily, but that wasn’t really the point. Charlotte was swimming so hard, he eased up in admiration of her competitive spirit and determination, and they hit the wall at the same time.

 

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