Jen thinks I’m talking to her, though, and so she turns around and says, “That’s none of your business. You need to take a hint and leave me alone.” She starts rummaging around in her bag, and for a second I think maybe she’s going to pull out some kind of pepper spray or something. But she’s just looking for her car keys.
“Wait!” I say. “Daniella told me about your friendship bracelets!” She keeps walking, and I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but I think I see her slow down just a little bit. “The ones you buried at the cemetery.”
She whirls around then, her hair whipping against her face. “How did you know about that?”
I think about telling her again that Daniella’s family was friends with mine, but at this point it doesn’t matter. She isn’t going to believe it, and besides, she doesn’t have to.
I pull the bracelets out of my pocket and hold them up. I spent some time cleaning them off with my jewelry cleaner, and so they sparkle in the afternoon sun. “She told me about them,” I say, “and I thought you might want them.”
She reaches out to take them, and her eyes fill with tears. “You . . . How did you . . .”
“Tell her that I don’t blame her,” Daniella says. “Tell her I don’t blame her for the fight we got into.”
“Daniella wants you to know that she doesn’t blame you,” I say. “She says that she’s not mad.” I have no idea what it means, since isn’t Daniella the one who took Jen’s boyfriend? But whatever, I’m just the messenger.
Jen starts crying then. Her whole face crumples up, and tears run down her face. We’re in the middle of the parking lot, and a couple of people turn to look as they walk by, but Jen doesn’t seem to notice.
“I didn’t mean it,” she says. “I wanted to give her a ride, I did. I was just so mad at her for what she did with Travis. And so when she called to see what time I was picking her up, I told her she’d have to find her own way to the meet. And so she took the bus.” She swipes at her tears with the back of her hand, and that’s when I get it. Jen and Daniella got into a fight because Daniella was hanging out with the boy that Jen liked. And so Jen told Daniella to find herself another ride to the meet. And that’s why Daniella was on the bus that ended up crashing.
“Tell her it’s not her fault,” Daniella says. “Please, please, please tell her it’s not her fault.” And now she’s crying too.
“It’s not your fault,” I tell Jen. “Daniella doesn’t blame you. She doesn’t.”
“How do you know?” she asks. Her eyes are shiny with tears, and her tone is pleading. I hesitate.
“The same way I knew about the friendship bracelets,” I say finally. “And let’s just leave it at that.”
She looks at me, then nods, and before I know what she’s doing, she’s grabbed me into a hug. She holds on to me for a long moment, still crying. And I feel like I want to cry too. I’m thinking about Ellie and best friends and how they can get you through your dark times, how they’re always there for you. How true friends will love you no matter what. I think again about telling Ellie about the ghosts, and realize that maybe I should. Ellie will understand. Ellie’s amazing. I always want to make sure that in my friendships I have no regrets. This whole thing with Daniella and Jen has made me realize that.
“Thanks,” Jen says, pulling back. Her eyes are still wet, but she has a smile on her face now.
“You’re welcome,” I say.
And when I turn around, Daniella is gone.
Chapter
15
Well. I kind of miss her. Daniella, I mean. She’s only been gone for half an hour or so, but just knowing that she’s not coming back is kind of sad. Especially since I didn’t get to say good-bye. That’s just how it works out sometimes. Sigh.
After I finish up with Jen (who feels a lot better after we talk for a little longer—she even put one of the friendship bracelets on her wrist, which really seemed to comfort her—yay me for doing something good!), I have to run back to my school so that I can take the late bus home. When I get to my house, my dad’s not back from work yet, so I make myself a snack of apples and peanut butter and settle in the living room to do my homework and try to keep my mind off Brandon.
The house is quiet without my dad here, and I’m a little afraid Mrs. Dunham is going to show up. So I put some music on my iPod and set it on its dock to break up the silence.
I’m halfway through my history reading when my phone rings. Ellie.
“Kendall!” she yells. “Where have you been? I’ve been trying to call you for an hour!”
“I’m right here,” I say innocently. “What’s up?”
“Why didn’t you tell me that Brandon found you at the cemetery this morning, digging up flower beds?”
“I wasn’t digging up flower beds!” I say. Jeez. Talk about being dramatic and starting rumors. I mean, I told him I was burying friendship bracelets.
“Well, that’s what he told Kyle. Kendall, what the heck were you doing?”
I swallow. “Ellie,” I say, and take a deep breath. “I . . .” I want to tell her. I do. About Daniella, about the ghosts, about digging up the graveyard, about everything. But the words seem like they’re stuck on my tongue.
“What?” Ellie asks. “Kendall, what is it?” She sounds so worried that the guilt squeezes my stomach like a rubber band.
I let out my breath in one giant whoosh. I just can’t do it. If I lost her, I don’t know what I’d do.
So I explain to her about the friendship bracelets, about sending them to my grandma with a Chinese proverb. And Ellie doesn’t even question it, because we’ve been friends for so long that she’s used to me doing weird things. In fact, she kind of likes it. She even starts asking questions about different Chinese spells and if there’s any that we can do together. It actually sounds kind of interesting, and I tell her that I don’t know too much about it but we should check it out. That’s before I remember that I made the whole thing up, which makes me feel even more guilty. But I’m sure there’s something out there that’s sort of like it. I make a mental note to google ancient Chinese burial spells.
“Anyway,” I say, tapping my pen against the pages of my history book. “Tell me more about what Brandon said.”
“Just that you were acting weird,” she says. “Kendall, I think you should go and talk to him.”
“Hmmm,” I say. “Good idea.”
“And try not to be so nervous! Remember how well things were going at the skating rink?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so I’ll let you go.”
“Why?”
“So you can go and call him!”
“Right now?”
“Yes, right now! You need to get back on track.”
“I guess . . .”
“Kendall,” she says, “go.” And then she hangs up.
I decide to send Brandon a text instead of calling him, because I figure it’s less intrusive.
Hey, I say. What r u doing?
Homework, comes the reply. U?
Same. Want company? I hold my breath and cross my fingers.
After a minute comes his reply. Sure. Wanna come over?
Sure.
He can’t be too weirded out if he’s inviting me over, right? I rebraid my hair and put on some lip gloss. I almost miss Daniella’s little comments about how much I’m screwing things up with Brandon and how much of a ridiculous middle school drama my romance is. “Good luck, Daniella,” I whisper, hoping that wherever she is, she can hear me.
I call my dad at work and ask him if I can go to Brandon’s, and after he confirms that Brandon’s dad will be there, he says yes. And he didn’t even have to call Cindy this time! I consider it progress.
I decide to ride my bike to Brandon’s, since it’s a little too far to walk.
“Hey,” I say when he opens the door.
“Hi.” He looks cute and casual in a pair of jeans and a button-up white and gray shirt.
“I brought my ma
th notes,” I tell him as I step into his front hall and take my coat off. “So you can copy them.”
“Thanks,” he says. “I had a dentist appointment during math.” He takes my coat and puts it on the coatrack. “Do you want a juice or something?”
“Sounds great.”
“All my stuff’s set up in the dining room,” he says. “So you can go ahead and go in there. Dad and Grace are outside throwing the ball around, but they’ll probably be in soon.”
“Okay,” I say. I head to the dining room and spread my stuff out on the table while Brandon goes to get the drinks. Just relax, I tell myself. Brandon doesn’t seem freaked out about the whole digging-up-the-cemetery thing, but I’m sure he is. So I need to get things back on track. Again. It should be a lot easier this time, I tell myself, without Daniella around.
And that’s when I see it. The piece of green paper. Sticking out of Brandon’s book bag, which is sitting on the chair next to me. I can hear Brandon moving around in the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and getting glasses down from the cupboard.
I think about what Mrs. Dunham kept saying. About adding myself to the green paper. That has to be the paper. I mean, Brandon takes it with him everywhere. I wonder if I could just . . . take a look. It wouldn’t really be snooping, because now that Daniella’s gone, I might really have to help Brandon’s mom move on soon. Looking at that paper would be more like doing something in the line of duty.
So before I can talk myself out of it, I reach in and pull the paper out of Brandon’s bag. It looks like a letter. It is a letter. From Brandon’s mom to him. It seems like something she wrote to him before she died. “Dear Brandon,” it starts, “I wanted to take this opportunity to write down everything I want to tell you, in case someday I’m not there to tell you in person.”
Wow. That is so sweet. I start to tear up a little bit, actually. Because it’s just so sad. I hear Brandon’s footsteps moving closer, and my heart starts to beat fast. I run my eyes quickly down the paper, scanning it for anything that might make me understand what Mrs. Dunham is talking about.
And that’s when I come to the end of the paper. And I see that there’s a list of things that Mrs. Dunham wants Brandon to stay away from. I don’t have a chance to read all of it before I have to shove it back into his bag.
“Hey,” Brandon says, walking back into the dining room and setting two glasses of juice down on the table. “Is apple okay? Grace drank the rest of the orange.”
“Apple’s great,” I say, but my mind is racing. What the heck could Mrs. Dunham be talking about? Why would she want me to be on her letter to Brandon?
And then I have a horrible thought. Is Mrs. Dunham . . . She can’t mean that I’m something Brandon should stay away from, can she? Add yourself to the green paper. But that . . . that doesn’t make any sense. Why would I have to stay away from Brandon so that Mrs. Dunham can move on?
“Everything okay?” Brandon asks.
“Yup,” I say brightly, even though my stomach’s in my shoes. “Everything’s fine.” I take a sip of my juice and give him a smile. My heart’s beating so fast in my chest, I’m afraid he’s going to be able to hear it. I look at the green paper, hoping he won’t be able to tell that I just put it back into his bag. I’m not sure that it’s sticking out exactly the way it was before. Crap. I want to reach out and push it back in, but I don’t—
“So it was fun ice-skating yesterday,” Brandon says, and sits down at the table next to me.
“Yeah,” I say, “I had fun too.” My head is spinning, and I open my math book. Okay, Kendall, I tell myself. Calm down. There’s no way Mrs. Dunham meant for you to stay away from Brandon. She doesn’t even know you.
“I’ve never had that much fun with a girl before,” Brandon says shyly. He inches his chair closer to mine, and now our legs are touching under the dining room table. Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod. His closeness is enough to make me forget about Mrs. Dunham and that stupid green paper. I’m probably overreacting about it, anyway. I’m very dramatic when I want to be.
“Me neither. I mean, I’ve never had that much fun with a boy before.” I twist my hands nervously in my lap. “And about this morning,” I say, “at the graveyard—”
“Shhh,” Brandon says, putting his finger to my lips. “You don’t have to explain.”
“I don’t?”
“No,” he says, and grins. “You definitely keep things interesting, Kendall Williams.”
And then, before I even know what’s happening, he’s moving his lips toward mine. And the moment is perfect and right, and I move my lips up to meet his, and then he’s kissing me. When we pull apart, he rests his forehead against mine, and I just stay there for a second, my eyes closed, enjoying how amazing this feels.
My first kiss! I can’t wait to tell Ellie!
“So,” Brandon says, pulling back. “Should we work on our math?”
“Sure,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. But inside, a million fireworks are going off inside me, like tiny little explosions. How am I supposed to work on math at a time like this? I kissed Brandon Dunham! And he likes that I’m so quirky! He said I keep things interesting!
I turn the page in my math book, wondering if I can get away with sending Ellie a text about what just happened without Brandon noticing.
And that’s when I see her. Mrs. Dunham. Sitting across from us at the table. I give her a friendly smile, hoping now that she sees how much her son likes me, she’ll be a little more friendly. But Mrs. Dunham doesn’t smile back. In fact, all she does is glare. . . .
LAUREN BARNHOLDT is the author of Fake Me a Match, Rules for Secret Keeping, The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney, Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better, Four Truths and a Lie, and the teen books Two-way Street, Watch Me, One Night That Changes Everything, Sometimes It Happens, and The Thing About the Truth. She spends most of her time reading, writing, and watching reality TV. Visit her website and say hello at www.laurenbarnholdt.com.
Front jacket design by Lisa Vega
Jacket illustration copyright © 2013 by Mary Lynn Blasutta
ALADDIN
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Fake Me a Match
Rules for Secret Keeping
Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better
Four Truths and a Lie
The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
ALADDIN
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First Aladdin hardcover edition February 2013
Copyright © 2013 by Lauren Barnholdt
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The text of this book was set in Minion.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Barnholdt, Lauren.
Girl meets ghost / by Lauren Barnholdt. — First Aladdin hardcover edition.
p. cm.
Summary: Seventh-grader Kendall can see dead people. Not only can she see them, she can speak to them . . . and
they can speak to her. They want Kendall to be a psychic sleuth and figure out what unresolved issues are keeping them from moving on.
ISBN 978-1-4424-4246-7 (alk. paper)
[1. Dead—Fiction. 2. Ghosts—Fiction. 3. Psychic ability—Fiction. 4. Middle schools—
Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction. 6. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.B2667Gi 2013
[Fic]—dc23
2012032234
ISBN 978-1-4424-2149-3 (eBook)
Girl Meets Ghost Page 15
