Safe Landing

by

Tess Oliver

This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2009 by Tess Oliver

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

Contact author at: toliverbooks@gmail.com
TessOliver.com

Chapter 1

On a scale of one to ten, one being the crappiest day and ten being the sweetest, this day was turning out to be a solid two. After nearly slicing my small toe off with the piranha style teeth of the packaging tape dispenser, I knew I was in for a bad one. I just didn’t know how bad until our oversized puppy raced out the door with my pink and yellow polka dot panties.

I limped clumsily after the dog. “Darcy, drop them!”

Darcy stopped in front of the moving guy and obediently dropped the panties on the guy’s foot. Through my haze of horror I heard my mom’s voice calling from the front stoop.

“Brazil, where did you put the box marked kitchen junk drawer?”

The sweaty moving man, clad head to toe in an orange jumpsuit, grinned at me then at the panties on the steel toe of his boot. “Brazil? That’s a strange name.”

I inched closer to the guy. Putting most of my weight on the foot that was not wrapped in gauze, I stooped down and swept up my underwear. I shot him a menacing glare, swung my face away from his, and hobbled off with my chin in the air and my neon colored panties clutched in my fist. The last thing I needed was a man dressed like a pumpkin making fun of my name.

My mom, in her constant quest to be clever, had decided to name me Brazil because that’s where my airline pilot dad had landed on the day I was born. I figured I was lucky he hadn’t been flying to Copenhagen or Turkey. I liked that no one else had the same name as me, but an obvious nickname for Brazil is Bra. A little fact Mom discovered too late. Fortunately, my family settled on Zilly for short.

Dragging my bloody foot behind me, I hobbled up the steps to the front porch.

Mom glanced down at my hand. “Why are you walking around with underwear?” She didn’t wait for my response. “Lex is hungry, and I can’t find the can opener.”

Typical mom. The house we’d lived in since I was born was being emptied of our precious memories, and she was worried that her forty pound cat was hungry.

“Lex could live six months off the fat in his tail alone. Do you really think you need to feed him right now?”

Mom had her wavy brown hair tied up in a faded blue bandana, and her face was flushed pink from packing all morning. Darcy, the underwear bandit, came to sit next to her. Every step Mom took was followed by a pack of four legged groupies, two dogs and two cats.

“I suppose Lex could wait. It’s only a few hours to the new house.”

“New house? It’s like a million years old.” I pushed past her through the front door.

“You act like we’re moving into a cave.”

“We might as well be.”

The day my mom sat my brothers and I at the kitchen table, silently shoving hot caramel sundaes in front of us, I knew something rotten was in the air. “The beach house your grandfather left me is the perfect place for us,” she’d said between ladylike bites of ice cream. “I can’t afford this house on the child support I get from your father, and Aunt Rachel has offered me a position in her antique shop.”

I did not talk to her for a week for the second time that year. The first time being the morning she’d held the screen door for my dad because his hands were filled with suitcases. She’d made no attempt to stop him. The twins, Tyler and Raymond, had sat side by side on the couch, watching the entire scene as if it were a movie. That day was definitely a one, and my tears and screams had had no effect on either of my parents. Now Mom was dragging us away from our friends, our schools, and our father.

The twins’ room was stripped bare of the black gaming boxes, computers, and tangle of electric cords that were normally draped along the wall. They were both lying on their stomachs playing with the handheld games Dad bought them for their twelfth birthday. It was a strange birthday celebration. Our first since the divorce. The boys and I had gone to lunch with Dad and his new girlfriend, Cynthia. Since she and I attended elementary school in the same decade, we had a lot in common. We even shared some favorite cartoons. In fact, when our conversation turned to SpongeBob, my normally perfect postured dad began to slump in his chair. But he seemed happy with Cynthia or Cindy as she told the twins and me to call her. Later that night, we had cake with Mom. The two of us sang a very depressing version of “Happy Birthday”, and the twins tried to act excited about their Batman cake.

I stopped in their doorway. “It must be nice to have time to relax with your games while your sister, who has lost nearly a pint of blood, hobbles around moving heavy boxes.”

Tyler sat up with interest at the word blood. Raymond followed. “A pint, really? Where?” They were an inseparable pair following each other’s every move, finishing each other’s sentences, and sticking up for one another no matter what the consequence. When I was younger, I was jealous that they were never without a best friend.

Raymond slid off the bed. “Let’s save the next level for the drive, Tyler. Mom probably needs our help.” He seemed to be maturing at a slightly faster rate than Tyler. Both boys had dark blonde hair, round blue eyes, and golden complexions that made the girls crazy for them.  No doubt the girls at their old school would be in mourning, and girls in their new school would think heaven had opened up and showered them with good fortune.

They followed me down the hallway to the wall where the family pictures still hung. I handed them each a wad of bubble wrap. “It’s for wrapping the pictures, not for folding and popping.”

Tyler untwisted it and smiled disappointedly. A thin layer of greasy dust coated the collage picture of our family vacations. The picture in the center was of my parents. Dad was giving Mom a piggyback ride over a stream in Hawaii. I was proud of that picture. They were  laughing wildly when I snapped the shot. No heads were cut off, and it was crystal clear, as if they had posed for it. But they hadn’t. Four years ago, when the picture was taken, it was easy to catch them laughing together.

Tyler held the picture while Raymond wrapped miles of bubbles around it. “Ray, I wonder if we’ll see a ghost right away.”

“No. I think ghosts are more mysterious than that. He’ll probably start by rattling some doors, flicking some lights on and off, maybe drip a little blood down the walls,” Raymond said with confidence.

Tyler glanced up at me “What do you think, Zilly?”

“I think that’s too much bubble wrap for one picture. And there is no such thing as ghosts.”

Raymond popped a bubble between his forefinger and thumb and grinned up at me. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He started wrapping the next picture. “But Mom said that a guy went crazy in the house and killed himself there.”

“No. She said he drowned in the ocean, which means he would not be haunting the house because he did not die in the house. And now you’ve pulled me into your stupid little ghost debate, so shut up and keep wrapping.” I plucked a horse show picture off the wall. I was perched proudly in the saddle holding four blue ribbons. I smeared the dust off the glass with the end of my shirt and handed it to Tyler.

My brothers were thrilled to be moving into an old house that had a weird history complete with insanity and death. Like most boys, they were intrigued with icky, guts hanging out types of things.  A new school did not seem to stress them out at all. After all, why should it? They’d be starting their first day with a best friend at their side. I, on the other hand, would be going it alone.

My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I handed a family Christmas picture to Raymond and fished the phone out. It was Christy. My best friend, Jenny, and I had taken Christy under our wings in the fifth grade. She was new that year and showed up to her first day of school wearing a red skirt and a yellow sweater with a Care Bears folder tucked in her arms. Jenny and I’d shot each other a knowing glance across the room that said this girl needs our help.

“Hola” I said trying to sound like it was no big deal I was leaving town forever.

“Hey, what’s up?” Christy’s voice seemed funny, but it wasn’t from sadness. It was something else.

I scanned the remaining pictures on the wall. “Nothing is up anymore except a few photos of my past life.”

Silent pause. “Have you talked to Jenny?” There was that funky tone again.

“Not today. Maybe I should be asking you what’s up. You sound funny.”

“Nothing’s up. Have you been on Facebook today?” Christy asked.

“That was random. My computer only works when it’s plugged into something. I don’t think the moving van has DSL.”

A weak laugh bounced back through the phone.

“Christy?”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell is up?”

“Nothing. It’s not going to be the same without you.” Her voice cracked and now my throat was tight. For Christy, this move couldn’t be all bad. Two friends always have it easier than three. And without me in the picture, she could stop being the third friend.

“I’m always a text message away. I’ve got to go, Christy. We’re ready to leave.”

“I want to hear all about the hotties at your new school. See ya.”

I snapped the phone shut. That was bizarre, even for Christy. In the mean time, Raymond had wrapped Tyler up like a cellophane mummy. They were laughing hysterically.

“Glad I can count on you guys to help.”

Raymond caught his breath. “I wanted him to be safe when we moved him.”

“Then you should have wrapped it around his fragile brain.” I plucked the final two pictures from the wall. The last one was of five-year-old me sitting on Dad’s lap in the cockpit of his plane. I can remember looking at all the dials and instruments on the panel of the plane and thinking he must be the smartest man in the world.

My mom stuck her head around the corner. She smiled at the bubble mummy. “I guess we can just toss him in the truck with the other junk. Did you make sure your rooms were cleared? We don’t want to leave anything behind, and the movers are ready to close up the truck.”

Raymond unwrapped Tyler and we pushed the box filled with photos of our once complete family down the floor of the hallway. Pumpkin man was standing in the family room with that same yucky smile and a half-stacked dolly. I turned and limped back to my room.

The faded lavender paint on the walls still showed the outline of my pictures and posters. There were clear lines around where Johnny Depp had stared down at me from the ceiling over my bed. The empty wire over my closet, which once held all of my horse show ribbons, reminded me of Suzy Who’s house after the Grinch had stripped it of its decorations. My bay gelding, Carrington, had been another casualty of the divorce. Between the cost of boarding, training, and Mom’s perceived lack of interest on my part, my parents decided to sell him. It would have been more bearable if Carrington had gone to someone decent. But now, Bridgett Kent was riding him with her perky rich girl’s butt and her hundred dollar breeches. I was still waiting for the car I was promised in place of Carrington.

I glanced around the room. The only reminders of my former life were the smears of mascara on the mirror and the scratch on the hardwood floor when I’d forgotten to take off my spurs. With all the memories I had of this room, it was weird how unfamiliar it looked with nothing but holes in the wall and dust bunnies floating around where the bed once sat.

The windows rattled as the giant moving truck started its engine. Through my window, I could see Mom sliding the cat boxes into the backseat of the van. “Come on, guys. The pets are in the car, and it’s warm inside.”

My hand trailed the entire wall of the hallway as I shuffled to the door. My fingertip traced the crevice where the back of the armchair had struck the plaster every time we dove into its cushions. Soon everything familiar would be replaced by everything unfamiliar.

When I got outside, the twins had already climbed into the middle seat with the dogs, but Mom was standing on the front lawn staring at the house. She wiped her eyes and looked at me. We didn’t say a word to each other. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and headed to the car.

Jenny had stayed away this morning, and I was glad. We’d said our good-byes the day before. There’s nothing left to say after you’ve said good-bye to someone you’ve known forever.

I had broken up with my boyfriend, Blake, a week before. Not because I was moving, but because I wanted to. I had had a major crush on Blake Peters my entire freshman and sophomore year. He was incredible, sexy, immortal. I returned for my junior year and Blake was a senior. I was sure I’d experienced my first ten the day he asked me to sit at his lunch table. Unfortunately, sometimes reality can ruin a dream. Somewhere between Blake’s boring discussion about football and his mind numbing explanation of his newest video game, I lowered the day’s rating to an eight. But I continued to date him because he was an adorable accessory for my teal blue Homecoming dress and he had his own truck.

“Mrs. Flynn’s jacarandas are blooming late this year,” Mom commented as she turned the corner away from our house, our street, our life.

“Who notices things like that?” I asked. “How many people drive down the street and take notice that a tree is not blooming on time?” My tone was bitchy, but suddenly I was pissed that as she yanked me away from my life, she was concerned the trees weren’t purple yet.

Mom looked sideways at me. She was wearing her black sunglasses so I couldn’t see her brown eyes. We were practically clones from the nose down, so it was like looking at myself, only older and less irritated.

“Someday, Brazil, you’ll be able to see past this.” She made a small arc in front of herself with her arm.

I imitated her but with an abrupt circling of my arm. “What’s this?”

“One day, you’ll be able to see past the universe that is solely occupied by Brazil.”

“My universe is back there, Mom. You are dragging me away from everything that was Brazil.” Painful tears threatened to break loose from my eyes. “You’re the one being self-centered.” The words cracked out of my throat.

As was always the case, Mom remained completely calm after I hurled the words at her.  “We’re all having a lousy day, Brazil. We’re all leaving our lives behind. Not just you.”

I plopped back hard against the seat and slumped down so that my eyes couldn’t see over the dashboard. With a clumsy hand, I swiped the one big tear that had escaped. I was always the one doing the yelling, and it made me sick to my stomach that she never cared enough to yell back.

“Mom, how long is it until Vulture’s Cove?” Tyler piped up from the back. The boys were practiced at ignoring my intense discussions with Mom.

Mom smiled as she glanced back at him in her rear view. “It’s Pelican Bay, Tyler, and it will take a couple of hours. What are the dogs doing back there? Maybe you should crack your windows so Darcy doesn’t throw up.”

The back windows slid down instantly.

“Mom, can we decorate the house real creepy for Halloween?” Raymond asked over the noise blowing in from outside. This move was a total adventure for the twins. Neither of them had a worry or sad thought in their heads.

“I think it will be perfect for a haunted house on Halloween,” Mom answered.

The twins high fived each other.  I shoved my earphones into my ears and cranked the volume on my iPod.

Chapter 2

I’d sulked myself into a nap and woke to the sound and pain of my head smacking the window and the pungent smell of the ocean. We’d arrived. Not that I didn’t like the beach. Some of our best family vacations were under our giant, slightly warped beach umbrella. But visiting the beach for an afternoon was one thing.  Living right next to it was a whole other deal. So long good hair days.

As we turned up the unpaved road that led to the house, the twins unbuckled their seatbelts and sat forward with interest. Tall trees lined the side of the house.  A towering slate gray roof peered out above them. Mom drove the car along the gravel driveway to the front of the house.

Raymond hung out the window of the van. “Cool! It looks just like the house in that scary movie where the guy cuts off his victim’s feet and hangs them along the fence.”

Tyler leaned over the front seat. “Maybe the ghost is watching us right now.”

I scooted up from my slumped position and twisted around. “You’d both pee your pants if you saw a real ghost, so don’t act so thrilled.”

Raymond sat back hard on the seat. “No way.”

Mom’s face blanched as she turned off the engine. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve been here,” she said quietly. “It’s bigger and older than I remembered.”

Old was an understatement.  I stared out the window. “Something tells me the termites are holding this place together with their teeth.”

Mom laughed. “You might be right.” We all hopped out of the van. Darcy and Lizzie ran to the small patch of grass below the porch to relieve themselves and begin their nasal inspection.

The top of the two-story house looked like three small cottages stuck together. Carved wooden dowels stuck up from the point on each roof making it look like something out of a gothic novel. I half expected some depressed looking guy named Heathcliff to come running out.

A deep, covered porch wrapped around the front and left side of the house. Only small patches of white paint remained on the porch railing. Two bay windows jutted from the front of the house, each divided into dozens of tiny panes crusted in salty looking dirt.

“I’ll just hook up a hose and spray those windows with water,” Mom said.

I put my hand on her shoulder. “Don’t spray too hard. You might take down a wall.”

Mom was not someone I could stay mad at for long. Besides, the way she gripped the steering wheel on the drive here coupled with the marble white color on her face right now, showed she was stressing about this move thing more than she’d let on.

Tyler and Raymond ran to the front steps. Mom and the dogs were close at their heels.

Mom called to me over her shoulder. “Leave the doors open on the van so the breeze can flow through it. That way the cats won’t overheat. We’ll lock them in the bathroom while the movers are here.” She turned back to the house. “Watch where you step, boys, that porch may have some weak spots.”

Suddenly, there was a hilarious image in my head-- the round, orange moving man falling through the front porch with our coffee table in his hands. I took a deep breath and willed myself toward the steps. My gaze lifted to one of the upstairs windows. Apparently, one of the twins had already flown up to the top story because through the dusty haze I saw someone staring down at me. I waved but the figure disappeared. My brothers moved like ping-pong balls, speedy and erratic.

I took one last glance back toward the outside world. It felt like I was leaving one dimension and entering a whole new one where the only familiar things were two bratty brothers, a newly divorced mom, and her herd of overfed pets.

“Sweet!” Tyler yelled as he and Raymond raced from room to room.

Sweet was definitely not the word I would have used.

Stained yellow wallpaper that appeared at one time to be white with blue paisley designs greeted us in the narrow entryway. As I walked round the corner into a big empty room, I found myself tangled up in a massive cobweb. Like everything else it was thick with dust.

“Yuck! We won’t have to do too much to get this place ready for Halloween.” I flailed my hands and arms in a wild attempt to rid myself of the sticky strands.

“Yeah, Mom, can we leave the cobwebs at least until then?” Tyler asked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tyler. We’ll use fake cotton spider webs like every good haunted house,” Mom said.

The main room had a window seat in front of the bay window. Directly across from it was a fireplace with a carved wooden mantle. I knelt on the window seat and rubbed some of the grime from the window as I squinted outside. A row of uneven posts provided a skeletal border between long weedy grass and white sand. Ivory froth topped the small waves, and their seemed to be, what I considered, a dangerous amount of birds flying over the beach. I didn’t mind birds but in bulk form they were intimidating.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I was wondering if anyone was going to contact me again or if they had already written me off as someone they used to know.

It was a text message from Christy. “How bad is it?”

Christy always reveled in other people’s misery so I didn’t feel like indulging her.

“I’ll live.” I wrote back.

“The kitchen is big but extremely dirty,” Mom called from the doorway. The whole house vibrated as the moving van maneuvered along the gravel path that bordered the house. “I guess our stuff is here.” She gave us a look that seemed to say--oh shit, this is really happening. “Zilly, go out to the car and carry in the cat boxes. Put them upstairs in the bathroom.”

“Which bathroom?” I asked as I headed to the front door.

“There’s only one bathroom. It’s at the top of the stairs.”

I froze in my tracks. Perhaps I had misheard her, after all, the sound of the truck engine was mingling with the roar of the ocean. “That’s hysterical,” I giggled. “I could have sworn I heard you say there is only one bathroom.”

“Sorry, Brazil. I know you were used to having your own bathroom at home. But there is only one bathroom in this house, so we’ll be sharing it.” Tyler and Raymond were busily wrapping their arms in cobwebs like they were making cotton candy and their hands were the paper cones.

“Mom, you can’t be serious. Are you sure there isn’t an outhouse in the yard for these guys? Or maybe they could use the ocean,” I suggested. “Their pee never actually reaches the toilet bowl anyway.”

“It will be fine, Brazil. Besides it’s a very spacious bathroom, complete with a claw foot tub.”

“Oh my freakin’ god,” I groaned as I shambled out to the car. I typed Christy a text message, “kill me now”. That one would probably make her day, which was fine. At least somebody would be having a good one.

The sketchy looking staircase was narrow and steep. I stared up at the landing, a cat box in each hand. Lex, the feline paperweight, and my injured toe made the climb a difficult feat.

There was a small window at the top of the stairs where faint sunlight seeped in; otherwise it was dark and gloomy. I put down the cat boxes and rose up on my good toes to peer out the window. The only thing I could see in the filthy pane was my own reflection. That’s when I noticed the figure standing behind me. I spun around but no one was there. “Tyler!”

“What?” Tyler’s voice streamed up the stairwell. He was holding a moving box.

“Where’s Raymond?” I asked frantically.

“Outside at the moving truck.”

Wonderful, we’d moved into a dusty, possessed house complete with demons. Either that or I was going completely nuts.

I pushed the bathroom door open with my elbow. A big, ugly white tub with animal feet sat in the center of the room like a museum display. This must have been the claw foot tub my mom thought was so special. I personally saw it as a step down from the sunken, blue tile Jacuzzi tub she’d had at home.

Besides the tub, everything else in the house seemed to be made of wood. But it no longer had that nice freshly cut tree smell. It smelled more like wood that had been soaked for a hundred years in dill pickle juice.

There were three bedrooms upstairs. I’d been assigned one at the end of the hallway because it had the most closet space and I had the most clothes. The loose knob nearly fell off in my hand as I turned it. The walls were painted dark pink. Actually, I liked that. And I had a window seat too. That was another bonus. It didn’t make up for the single bathroom, but it helped. There was a great view of the bay from my window, which in time, I might come to appreciate.

Although most of the furniture in the house had been auctioned off in an estate sale, I appeared to be the lucky, new owner of an ancient bookcase. There were four small drawers beneath three warped empty shelves. The hinges and handles on the drawers looked like they came from a medieval castle. Mom had a great appreciation for old stuff. We would definitely be sliding the lopsided relic down to her room.

****

“Zilly! Pizza’s here,” Tyler yelled up the stairwell. I was starved and my toe was throbbing. After eight hours of carrying boxes, climbing steep stairs, and trying to figure out where all our stuff went, I felt like shit. Christy sent me hourly messages to let me know what was happening in the old neighborhood as if I had been gone for months, and the moving man called me Bolivia twice and Peru once. I told him he must have been some kind of geographical genius, but my sarcasm went right over his head.

No word at all from Jenny. I tried not to read anything into it. I decided she was trying a cold turkey approach to life without Brazil.

When everyone had gone, including the cable man, who Mom had called immediately thinking that TV and computer would make us feel right at home, we’d all stood staring at our sleek, modern furniture looking completely out of place in the dismal, ancient family room or parlor as Mom had called it.

“It will look brighter in here once I clean the windows and hang some curtains,” Mom had said, but she’d sounded unsure.

I hung my favorite black sweater in the stuffy smelling closet, arranged my collection of stuffed animals at the foot of my bed, and limped down the hallway. There were only two faint lights, and they cast stretched, spooky shadows on the walls of the landing. I glanced out the small window at the top of the stairs. The beach looked deserted and uninviting. The black ocean swells looked glossy in the moonlight. I was never too fond of the ocean. It always seemed so bottomless and full of things that could bite off your legs or pull you down to your death. At night, it seemed especially scary.

Tyler and Raymond were already at the table covering their pizza slices with red pepper flakes and Parmesan cheese. Mom was at the counter pouring soda for everyone. The dogs were stretched out behind her on the black and white tile floor, while the cats circled her feet, rubbing their faces against her legs as she filled glasses. The animals were already at home in the new place. Of course, to them, any place was home as long as Mom was there.

I flipped open the pizza box. I was hungry enough to eat cold, greasy, completely fattening pizza.

Mom placed a glass in front of me. “Sorry, there’s no ice yet.” She scooted her chair to the table. “I’ll continue cleaning and unpacking while you’re at school. We should feel pretty settled in by tomorrow. Six weeks is still enough time to make some new friends before school lets out for summer.”

I broke the long string of cheese dangling between my mouth and the slice of pizza I was holding. Mom was staring at me as I chewed. I didn’t say anything but pretended to be very into my food. Just like that, little miss everything is wonderful thought I could walk into a new high school of strange faces and sweep up an entire crew of new friends.

“Raymond, can you hook up the computer in my room after dinner?” I asked. I had no intention of getting into a conversation with my mom about how great this new life was going to be.

“If you finish unpacking my clothes, I will. And that includes my underwear and socks,” Raymond said.

“Fine. As long as the underwear is clean.”

This comment made Tyler burst out laughing. Unfortunately, he had a mouthful of soda, and it sprayed over everything.

“Tyler!” Mom said.

“It was her fault,” Tyler complained.

Mom shook her head and wiped up the table with a handful of napkins and a look of satisfaction. “Our first dinner in our new house and it’s just like old times,” she said. Even though she wasn’t looking at me, the words were meant for my ears.

I looked pointedly at the fifth chair at the table, the empty chair. “It’s not like old times at all.”  I folded the rest of the pizza up in my paper plate and limped to the trash to toss it. I knew I wasn’t making this any easier on Mom, but I couldn’t stop myself. She did not have to restart her high school existence.

Plunking down on the couch in the family room, I fished the phone out of my pocket and pressed two. I suddenly had an urge to talk to Dad.

“Hey Zilly, what’s up? Everyone alright?”

“Except for almost losing my toe, we all survived the move, physically at least.”

“What happened to your toe?” Dad asked. The sound of mumbling voices and dishes clanking flowed through the phone.

“Nothing. Thanks to the little piece of skin that is holding it on, I still have all ten.”

“Zilly, what’s wrong?” The fact that he had to ask was beyond annoying.

“Everything is great, Dad. Where are you? A restaurant?’

“I’m at dinner.” There was a pause. “Cynthia and I just sat down for a bite to eat.”

He always tried to make everything he did with Cynthia sound casual, like it was no big deal that he was dating someone other than Mom.

“Cynthia says hello,” he said.

I didn’t return the hello. I considered telling him to let her know that Nickelodeon was having a cartoon marathon over Memorial Day, but I held my tongue.

“The house is really old,” I said. “One good storm and we’ll be floating in the ocean.”

“You don’t need to worry, Sweetie. Those old houses are built much better than the new ones. Another bottle of Chablis, please,” he said. “Listen, Brazil, about next weekend, I can’t take you car shopping like I promised.”

It was to be expected, after all the day was a solid two. “Why not?”

“Something’s come up. But we’ll definitely go before the end of the month.”

“Whatever.”

“Don’t be mad, Zilly. I’ll call you tomorrow. Our food’s here.”

“Enjoy.”

“Brazil,” he said one last time, “go easy on your mom. This was not all her fault.” He spoke quietly into the phone, most likely to spare Cynthia from hearing about the crap from his former life.

“Bye, Dad. Safe landing.” It was something Mom and I always said to him when he was leaving the house for work. I snapped shut my phone, dropped it on the coffee table, and made a mental note never to call him on a day that was a solid two.

Raymond hovered over me with a big box. “My underwear awaits.” He dropped it onto the couch next to me.

Chapter 3

The boys’ room was big and airy. I liked it better than my room, but the closet space was a joke. I filled their oak dresser with their clothes all the while playing the shitty conversation with Dad in my head. Go easy on Mom. I had many comebacks for that admonition, but I’d kept my lips zipped. My mouth was notorious for getting me in trouble, but tonight I’d decided to keep it shut. I didn’t have the energy to argue with Dad or anyone for that matter. In fact, diving under my quilt and burying my head in my pillow seemed like the only thing that could relieve the misery of the day.

“It’s up and running,” Raymond announced proudly from the doorway. He was becoming quite the computer nerd.

I tossed the last ball of socks in the top drawer and slid it shut. “Thanks.” I pushed past both of them.

Brandy, a girl I used to hang with at the barn, was online. <What’s up?> I typed.

<Show today at Mc Connell’s.>

<How’d you do?>

<I spent all Saturday washing Siesta and he walked out of his stall lame this morning!>

Unfortunately, Siesta was always lame. Poor guy needed to retire. <Sorry to hear. Who won?>

<Now that you’re not riding, Claire Hartman is winning all the high points.>

<She’s a good rider.> I wrote back. She was also a sore loser. I can’t count the number of times she shot murderous glares at me while we circled the arena.

<Guess what bitchy Bridgett posted on Facebook?> Brandy’s message popped up over Blake’s, which I was ignoring.

<I can only imagine.>

<It’s a picture of her on Carrington. She won some reserve champion ribbon at a dinky show.>

<I would love to read Carrington’s thought bubble. He was thinking get this bitch off of me!> I typed back.

Bridgett was a good rider only because she always had great trainers and awesome horses. But she picked at the horse’s mouth constantly.

<Your poor horse,> Brandy wrote. <gtg>

Her last message landed like a rock in my stomach. Carrington was another friend I’d left behind. He was an awesome horse who somehow always sensed when I was having a tough day. And now I’d betrayed him by leaving him with an awful new owner.

Blake’s annoying message of <hey> popped up again. I signed off. I didn’t have much to say to him and his conversations usually didn’t go much further than hey and what’s up. I suddenly remembered the strange conversation I’d had with Christy in the morning and headed to Facebook. Jenny had been acting weird lately, and I had decided it was because I was moving.

Boy, I was way the hell off base. My closest and dearest friend had posted some new pictures, and the first one was a picture of her with her arms around my ex-boyfriend. I stared at the picture in disbelief, and then decided to leave her a nice, little comment.

“Isn’t that special? I guess you’re such a moron, you thought since I didn’t live in Boston anymore I wouldn’t be able to see Facebook. Surprise! That’s why they call it the World Wide Web. Traitor!”

I closed the screen and slumped back in my chair trying to decide if I was more fuming or hurt. I had broken up with Blake and Jenny, of all people, knew my feelings didn’t run too deep for the guy, but there had to be some unspoken rule about not latching on to your best friend’s ex-boyfriend.  But the worst offense was the fact that she didn’t tell me first. Posting the pictures was the coward’s way out.

A burst of air blew across my face. It brought with it a scent that reminded me of my grandma’s almond breakfast buns. The old windows obviously didn’t have any weather stripping, which explained the breeze but not the odor. I went back to my brooding rage.

My intuition had told me something was up with Jenny for the last week. I thought she was just upset about me moving. That’ll teach me to think so highly of myself. Apparently she couldn’t wait for me to go. Jenny and I had been best friends since third grade. We used to trade off sleeping at each other’s houses every Friday night. We’d stay up half the night painting our nails, gossiping about boys, and eating raw chunks of slice and bake cookie dough. While we had our differences and spent at least several weeks a year not talking to one another, we were still each other’s closest friend. Like me, she only had brothers, but her parents were still together. Her life was still normal. Only now, she had lost her best friend forever.

The sound of footsteps and dog toenails clicking on the hardwood floor alerted me to Mom’s arrival. She poked her head in. “I want to take a look at that toe, Brazil. We may need to take you to a doctor.” She looked at my face. “What’s wrong?”

That was all I needed. Tears flowed down my cheeks before she got the word wrong out. “Nothing much. Someone other than me is winning ribbons on my horse, and someone other than me is kissing my boyfriend,” I sobbed. “And now I am living in a termite infested tomb. Otherwise, things are great.”

She walked over and pressed my head against her stomach. “You haven’t wanted to show for a year, and I thought you broke up with Blake.”

“I did and Jenny swooped in immediately.”

“Jenny? That surprises me.”

I pulled my head away from her and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I should have seen it coming. I left her a nasty comment on her Facebook page.”

“What about Blake?”

“What about him?”

“Did you leave him a nasty message as well?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I shook my head.

“That’s because you cared more about Jenny. Let’s face it, Blake didn’t mean that much to you. I think, in time, you’ll forgive her. After all, you two have been friends a long time.”

Once again Mom’s sunshiney, all-will-be-well philosophy was expected to make everything instantly better. She knelt down next to my gauze-covered foot. Darcy put a long nose on her shoulder and dropped something out of his mouth. It was my phone.

I reached for it. “Damn it, Darcy. Is nothing safe?” It was covered with slobber and the screen was cracked. “My life sucks!”

“I’ll buy you a new one as soon I can,” Mom said quickly. Lizzie began sniffing at the bloodstained cotton.

Mom pushed her back. She unwrapped it slowly and turned my foot to the side. “Does it still hurt a lot? Your dad called to ask me about the toe that was dangling from a piece of skin.”

“I guess I over exaggerated.”

“I don’t think it will need stitches but keep a clean sock on it.” She placed her hand on my thigh and pushed herself off the floor. “He told me he’s not coming out to get you this weekend.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure he’s got to work.”

“I’m sure,” Mom said in a patronizing tone that made me want to spit fire.

“I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed.” It was my subtle hint for her to leave, and being a mom, she caught my meaning immediately.

“We’ll get through this, Zilly, I promise.” Her voice sounded shaky. She kissed me on the head, gathered up the first aide supplies, and closed the door behind her.

I surveyed my new room through blurry eyes. Even with all of my stuff in it, it would take a long time to get used to. The old walls were constantly creaking, adding to the creepiness of the whole place. I needed to retire to the safety of my bed and down comforter before some other crappy thing happened. Bed was the best place to be on days that rated a solid two.

Somehow my favorite pillow had ended up on the floor underneath the old bookshelf. I got down on my hands and knees to reach it.

“Nice bum,” a voice said.

The back of my head smacked the case as I jolted upright. “Shit, shit, shit!” I rubbed the back of my head and looked around the room. “Tyler, Raymond, get out of my room!” They were hiding well. I pushed to my feet, limped to the closet, and threw open the door.  “Out!” My clothes hung there undisturbed and alone. I marched to the bed and leaned down to look under it. Empty. “I’m going to call Mom in here if you don’t show yourselves.”

Except for my rapid breaths, the room was silent. Maybe I’d imagined the words. No. It was definitely a guy’s voice, deeper than the boys and with an accent. Who uses the word bum? Definitely not the twins. Besides, they would not be commenting on their sister’s butt. I rubbed my head. So this is how it was going to be. I left behind my real life, and apparently, my sanity stayed behind with it.

Something caught my eye under the bookcase. It was an old, rusty key. Ignoring the growing bump on the back of my head, I reached down and picked it up. It was a small skeleton key, which appeared to match the lock on the drawer of the bookcase. I poked it through the tiny keyhole and jostled it around. The lock had obviously not been opened for a long time, and I didn’t have the patience or strength to snap it out of its rusted state. Tossing the key onto the shelf, I shambled to my bed and flopped onto it. At least the pain in my skull took my mind off the pain in my foot.

Chapter 4

The smell of burnt toast woke me from a bizarre series of dreams, including one where an old lady was cooking a bloody toe, and I kept moaning “who’s got my toe”.

“Breakfast is ready,” Mom called up the stairs. After an entire day of unpacking and a night of restless sleep in my new room, my head ached and my eyes were puffy. The whole look should make for a spectacular entrance at my new school. Mom seemed to think that the sooner we got into a normal routine, the sooner we would feel at home in Pelican’s Bay. She was obviously living in a fantasy world.

As I pushed out of bed, something sharp fell on my good foot. I looked down and sat back hard on the bed. The skeleton key glinted up at me from the floor. I stared at it and quickly went through the evening’s events in my head. I’d reached under the desk, picked it up, and after attempting to open the drawer, I’d tossed the key onto the book case and climbed into bed.

Strange voices and inanimate objects moving across the bedroom, certainly nothing to panic about, I told myself. After all, I was living in Hell House. I picked up the key and placed it back on the bookcase, which grew increasingly unwelcome with each moment.

The light in the narrow hallway flickered dimly. Tyler and Raymond burst out of the bathroom.

“You better not have used all the hot water,” I yelled as they raced back to their room. I’d had my alarm set for six o’clock, but I’d hit the snooze button three times. I’d spent the first hour in bed freaking out about everything, the new school, Dad and his girlfriend, Jenny attending the prom with Blake, and the pathetic fact that I was going crazy.  No wonder my dreams were so creepy.

“Damn it!” I grabbed the sink to keep from slipping on my butt in the pool of water my brothers had left on the floor. The mirror was cloudy with steam. I smeared a hole in the condensation with the palm of my hand. “Lovely.”

“You’d better hurry, Brazil. You woke up late.” Mom’s voice seeped through the crack in the bathroom door.

“Thanks, Mom. I never actually learned to tell time.”

“Breakfast is on the table. Come get some before Darcy steals it.” Something we discovered after Darcy’s legs began to grow like stilts, really tall dogs can reach all areas of a table, counter and kitchen sink. No morsel of food was safe. Or cell phone for that matter.

My hair would have to go up in a pony-tail so I could take a fast shower. Mascara was a poor camouflage for my tired, red eyes, but I had no time for anything else. I threw on my favorite pair of jeans and a tight purple t-shirt and headed down to the kitchen. I still could not put all my weight on my bandaged foot, which gave me an extra air of grace as I walked downstairs.

“Does this high school have two stories?” I asked as I entered the kitchen. “Because if it does, I may break my neck before the day is out.”

“I think it’s only one story. It’s much smaller than your old school.” Mom turned from the stove carrying two plates of scrambled eggs. They looked rubbery and brown. “I’m afraid I haven’t quite mastered this stove yet.”

“I’ll pass.” I reached for the orange juice.

“Don’t go to school on an empty stomach, Brazil. You look cute, by the way, with only mascara. A face like yours--”

“--doesn’t need all that make-up,” I finished the regular chant for her. She was not pleased.

“I need you to rewrap my foot so it can fit in my shoe.” I dropped an unattractive piece of toast on my plate. “Pass the jelly, Ty.” The twins were ready to go. With freshly washed hair and glowing faces, they looked like they’d stepped out of a modeling ad.  They were headed, as usual, for instant popularity at their new school.

Mom turned off the stove and dropped the frying pan into the sink. “I’m going up to see what kind of disaster you three left in the bathroom. I’ll meet you in your room with the first aid kit.”

The toast kept sticking in my throat either because it was really dry toast or because I was nervous about today. It may have been some of both. I choked down three bites and left the table. Grabbing the ornate iron railing, I heaved myself back up the stairs. Mom was standing with a ball of gauze and tape in her hand, carefully surveying the old bookshelf. The drawer stood ajar.

“I guess you got the old lock to turn,” I said.

“Huh? The drawer was open when I came in.” Mom picked up the key to get a closer look. “This is really old.”

“It’s O.K., Mom. I really don’t care if you opened it.”

“I’m not one of your brothers, Brazil. If I’d opened the drawer, I would tell you.”

“Then that key has a mind of its own, and things are getting pretty freaky up here.” I plunked down on the bed without taking my eyes off the drawer. It was only open an inch or so, but last night, it would have taken a crowbar to open it.

“I know this is an old house, Zilly, but don’t be so absurd.” She knelt down, removed the old gauze, and rewrapped my foot.

“I’m not absurd,” I protested. “I’m nuts. See what you’ve done to me. A year ago I was perfectly sane, and now, I am one pancake short of a stack.”

She laughed and gathered up the first aid supplies. “You’re wrong.”

“Really, Mom, I’m losing my mind.”

“No. I meant the part about you being perfectly sane a year ago.” She kissed the top of my head and headed to the door. I hurled my pillow at her, but Darcy intercepted it like I was throwing a Frisbee.

Reaching the doorway, Mom stopped and turned. “Don’t be nervous about today, Zilly. You’ve never had trouble making friends--or boyfriends. It won’t be any different here. Drop it, Darcy.” The gangly dog reluctantly dropped my pillow and followed her out.

At least one of us had confidence that I could start up a social life again. Of course Mom hadn’t factored in the possibility that I really didn’t want one. The lovely pictures of Jenny with her arms around Blake drove me to the decision that friends were not worth the effort. Being a recluse might have some advantages, especially if I was losing my mind. Then I could just keep my wacko thoughts to myself.

I stood to leave and pushed the drawer shut. The faint scent of flowers wafted into the air surrounding the bookcase and a shiver crept up my spine. Not only was I seeing and hearing things, but I was smelling stuff too. As I grabbed my backpack and raced out of my possessed room, I wondered if insanity ran in my family.

****

My new high school was about the same size as the elementary school I’d attended in the city. There were lots of big trees surrounding the school, but otherwise it was the same as any school, a slapdash paint job over layers of old paint, long cement hallways dotted with flattened mounds of chewing gum, and endless rows of dented student lockers. There was a guy leaning against one of the trees playing harmonica, which was different, but otherwise the kids were all the same. Just different faces.

A girl smiled at me as she strolled by. She had a thick head of curls that she had obviously tried to iron straight, an impossible feat, living this close to the ocean. Her backpack was hanging open and her wallet was about to fall out.

I shuffled after the girl like a nine-toed hobbit. “Excuse me! Excuse me!” I called

She stopped and turned. “Are you talking to me?”

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but your backpack is unzipped, and it looks like your wallet is about to make a jump for it.” I reached around and zipped it for her.

“Thanks a lot,” she said. “I’ve never seen you around.”

“I’m new. It’s my first day here.”

She had a tiny rhinestone stud in her nose, but everything else about her looked Shirley Temple-like. “Welcome to Pelican Bay High. I’m Julie.”

“I’m Brazil.”

“Isn’t that a country?”

“Yeah, the South Americans named it after me.”

She laughed. “Nice to meet you, Brazil. And thanks for saving my wallet. Where are you headed first?”

“My locker.” I pulled out the sticky note where the clerk had written the number. “Locker 274.”

Julie pointed down the hall. “I think that number is near the end where the glass doors open to the quad.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you around.” I headed down the long stretch of lockers and searched for number 274. “Please don’t be on the bottom, please don’t be on the bottom,” I whispered. I was  getting warmer. And there it was, on the bottom. This meant no short skirts and no high heels for the remainder of the year.

I stooped down and fidgeted with the lock cursing under my breath. It popped open. There was an old Algebra test crumpled inside. It was an F. A pair of gray running shoes stopped two lockers down. I glanced up. It was the harmonica guy. He had long, black hair and a cute butt. That was all I could see from my angle.

Now there were two big white shoes behind me. “Could you hurry? I need to get my books.”

I threw my lunch into my locker and slammed it shut. The jerk behind me was standing so close, I had to slither up the face of the lockers to stand. I turned and stared at a massive chest and thick neck that was topped by a big, blonde shaved head.

“Well, what do we have here? Fresh meat.” His eyes did a rude once over of me from head to toe.

There was nothing more special than being referred to as dead flesh. I tried to scoot to the right but the ape followed me like we were doing one of those goofy mirror pantomimes.

“I’m Hank,” he said attempting to dazzle me with his smile. I had this funky habit of making a mental catalogue of guys I met. This guy would be the second entry on my R for Repulsive page right beneath Bradley Simkus who used to snort mashed potatoes through his nose on turkey and gravy day.

“That’s nice,” I said. “Now, if you don’t mind, you’re in my way.”

Hank glanced over at harmonica guy. “What the hell are you looking at, Dracula?”

Harmonica guy shrugged and looked at me with smiling eyes. Really dark brown and long lashed smiling eyes.

I squirted out from the space between the two guys and headed down the hall. Fishing in my pocket, I realized I’d lost my schedule. The morning was off to a supreme start.

“You dropped this when you were helping Julie with her backpack. That was cool of you to limp after her like that.” It was harmonica guy. He handed me my schedule and glanced down at my foot. “Sports injury?”

“Packing tape accident,” I answered.

“That sticky stuff can be brutal.” He had smooth olive skin and a silver hoop in each ear.

I grabbed the schedule from him. Hank walked over, purposely clashed shoulders with the guy, then lumbered down the hall, his knuckles nearly scraping the ground as he walked.

I watched him walk away then turned back to the cute guy. “I see even this school has its resident caveman.”

“All he needs is a club and a bone through his nose.” A crooked smile tilted his mouth. It was one of those half smiles that could make a guy look either clueless or sexy. His was definitely sexy.

“Actually, the bone piercing thing is more aborigine than caveman. Woolly mammoth bones were too big to be worn as jewelry,” I said dryly.

He stared at me and I figured I’d already scared this one off with that ridiculous statement. “The small foot bone of the saber tooth would have been the perfect size for someone’s nose.”

I nodded in agreement. “I think we have only the Flintstones to blame for the common misconception that cavemen wore bones.”

He glanced at his watch. “Why, it’s not even eight o’clock, and I’ve had my first caveman debate of the morning.” There were two little lines creasing the side of his crooked smile. “I’m Seth.”

“I half expected you to tell me your first name was Count.” I glanced in the direction the blonde ape had lumbered.

“Hank thinks my family is a group of Satan worshipping vampires.”

“Are they?”

Seth shrugged. The tips of his long black hair curled up on his shoulders. “I’m not really that crazy about blood,” he said. “And the whole goat sacrifice thing sort of turns my stomach.”

I smiled. “My name’s Brazil.”

“I know.”

“Don’t tell me I look like a Brazil.”

“No, I saw it on your schedule. Actually, you look more like a Monaco. Must be kind of tough starting a new school this late in the year.”

“I tried to convince my mom of that, but at the moment she’s only interested in her life.”

A bell startled me. “Is that the tardy bell?” The throng of teenage bodies was beginning to move in scattered directions.

“No. You’ve got three minutes.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Seth. Room 24?” I asked.

“First hall on the left,” he said.

I headed in the direction he pointed. Then I glanced back over my shoulder. He was still watching me. “Why Monaco?” I asked.

“A classy adventurer with a princess edge,” he called back. In my mental catalogue of guys, he was going straight to my S page for Smooth.

Chapter 5

The outside eating area at Pelican Bay High was much smaller than the one at my old school. But the dynamics were basically the same. The poopulars, as I liked to call them, were all sitting together, as were the stoners, the bookworms, and the let’s start a band type people. The teachers I’d had for the first four periods were similar to my old school too. It seemed that every principal had the same two pools of people to choose from for their teaching staffs. There were the normal, easy to talk to, occasionally even cool teachers, and then there were the control freak, wacko, straight out of hell teachers. Apparently every principal was mandated by law to choose half their staff from the second group.

I had spent the entire morning trying to fade into the wobbly desk in each classroom. Obviously, people noticed me because I was a different face in the crowd and at such a small school, it was easy to spot the new person. Julie, the girl with the falling wallet, was in my chemistry class. She sat near me and started filling me in on some of the school trivia, which I had no interest in but pretended to listen. She was big into gossiping, it seemed. But since I didn’t know any of the people she gossiped about, my mind wandered as she talked.

Making new friends in Pelican Bay seemed like a tedious and impossible chore. It took years to create the group of friends I’d had in Boston, and I didn’t have the energy or the urge to start the stressful process over again. Mom acted like it was no big deal to start my teenage existence from scratch but she was wrong. Plus I was still seething about my best friend’s betrayal. Although admittedly, the more I thought about Blake, the more I decided Jenny got the raw end of the deal. It made the burn cool a bit, but I wasn’t ready to talk to Jen yet.

Seth, the one face I’d hoped to see, wandered into the eating area. He searched around for someone then sat on the wall and ripped open a bag of chips. I’d found an empty corner in the shade of a big tree. I sat munching my grapes and watching the entire lunch scene.

Seth popped a chip into his mouth then spotted me across the yard. He waved. I waved back and watched as a skinny girl with a punk meets vampire look of solid black hair and heavy make-up sat next to him. The way she nearly sat in his lap made it obvious that she was his girlfriend.

Terrific. Not that it really mattered. The last thing I needed right now was a guy to stress me out. As I finished my yogurt, I felt something tap my back. It happened again, but this time it was followed by loud male laughter. I twisted around. It was Hank holding an open bag of cheese puffs in his hand. Calling me fresh meat and throwing orange snack food at my back was a sure way to warm my heart. His friends waited anxiously for my reaction, so I decided not to have one. I left the table with my crumpled up lunch bag.

“I’d sure like a taste of that tender loin,” Hank sneered continuing with the romantic meat analogies. I walked to the trash and tossed my bag. I totally hated this guy already.

As I crossed the quad I could sense Seth watching me. I peeked over my shoulder at him. The girl had her chin on his shoulder, staring at the side of his face, while she fingered his earring. Like a gothic gecko, she stretched her pierced tongue toward his ear and licked it. He didn’t flinch. Oddly enough, his eyes kept watching me even as the girl nibbled on his neck. I hurried out of the lunch area. At this point, it looked like I was heading toward another solid two, but at least I still had all my toes.

Crouching down to my shitty locker was even tougher with two big books in my hand. I needed my math book for homework. It was wedged at the bottom layer of the stack, so I nearly fell backwards on my butt wrenching it free.

“Take your time, sweetheart. I’m enjoying the whole scene from up here,” Hank said.

Standing abruptly, I kicked the door shut, swaying on my feet for a second from the head rush of standing so quickly. Seth was at his locker too. Of all the lockers in the sea of lockers that ran the length of the hallway, I had to end up with this one.

Hank rested his hand against the metal doors, his arm right next to my head. He leaned closer. His eyes shifted over to Seth’s locker. “Every time I turn around, Freak, you’re standing there.”

Seth looked around at the front of his door and pointed to the number. “Must be a fucking coincidence, or maybe, this is where my locker happens to be.” He glanced at me with those brown eyes then refocused on getting books from his locker. It was amazing how cool he remained with the way this jerk spoke to him.

Hank turned his thick forehead back to me. “I think you would grow to like me if you gave me a chance.”

He leaned closer and I fought the urge to knee him in the groin. “I don’t think so,” I said.

“How do you know?”

“See, I have this funny habit of cataloguing guys in my head, and you went straight to the N page.”

“The N page? Is that for naughty or nice?” he asked trying to sound suave. This guy was so not my type it was laughable.

“No. N for Not in a gazillion years. I prefer my guys to be a little more evolved.” I scooted away from him and decided a dash for the exit would probably be smart. I peeked over at Seth. He was smiling behind his locker door. I grinned in return and trotted down the hallway.

Seth had earned a second page in my mental catalogue. He was my first entry under D for Dangerous smile.

Mom was parked at the back of the school. I threw my backpack in and slid into the front seat. She stared at me with an excited twinkle in her eyes. “How was it?” she finally asked.

I shrugged. “It’s a school. They’re all the same.”

She started the van without another word. Apparently, she’d expected me to come out skipping and whistling a tune of joy.

Mom switched from a news station to some music. “Any cute guys?”

I ripped open the package of the granola bar I had stuffed in the front pocket of my backpack. “One.”

She turned to me. “In that entire school, there is only one cute guy?”

I chewed my bar and nodded. “Yep, just the one. And he has a girlfriend. I figure my future holds either a mental hospital or a monastery.”

Her eyes were back on the road. “I don’t think either will have you.”

And people wondered where I got my dry wit. “Then I guess you’ll be stuck with me.”

“I guess we’ll be stuck with each other.”

I glanced sideways at her profile. I had always been proud of the fact that I had the coolest and the prettiest mom in the neighborhood. I still couldn’t see why Dad had left her. Jenny’s father was still around, and her mom had the figure of a snowman, and she screeched about everything. I know if Mom had just tried a little harder, Dad would have stayed.

We turned up the driveway. A gray mist started to collect out on the horizon behind the ancient house. It was a bit like driving onto the set of a horror movie. “I’ve got macaroni and cheese cooking in the crock pot. It should be ready in a couple of hours.”

The climb to my room was getting easier so my toe must have been healing. I hesitated at my door suddenly remembering the key and the drawer… and the voice. Especially the voice. I stepped in cautiously. I guess I was expecting someone or something to jump out at me, but the place was exactly the way I’d left it. The drawer on the bookcase was shut, and the key was on top.

There was definitely a draft coming through my closed window, so I threw on my hooded sweatshirt and sat down to my computer. Jen’s screen name Pinkalicious popped up with a message. <Can we talk?>

My fingers plunked hard on the keyboard. <Bout what?>

<You broke up with him so I thought you wouldn’t mind.>

<You could have told me.>

<I was scared.>

<Coward.> I wrote back. And then my throat tightened. All of a sudden I missed her. I’d gone the whole day without a true, best friend conversation. I had so much to talk to her about. <Sorry I called you a traitor.>

<Sorry I didn’t tell you. Zilly, it sucks here without you.>

Without warning hot tears gushed down my cheeks. <It sucks here too. gtg Jen. Call you later.> I signed off, stared at my blue desktop, and wiped tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Suddenly, through the blur, I saw a reflection on my computer screen just like in the dirty window. Someone was standing behind me. “Tyler!” I screamed and twisted up out of my chair. But the room was empty. My heart raced as I flew down the hall. “Mom! Where are the boys?” My voice was frantic enough for her to come running.

She was wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Brazil, what’s the matter? You look upset.”

“Tyler and Raymond are trying to scare me. They keep playing tricks on me. One of them

was hiding in my room just now.”

Mom’s face blanched. “Sweetie, the boys aren’t home yet. They stayed after to play baseball.”

I sat down on the top step and wrapped my arms around my knees. “It’s official. I’m going crazy.” The tears came again.

“Stay down there,” Mom told her pets as she climbed the stairs. She scrunched down next to me and put her arm around my shoulder. “Brazil, it’s hard getting used to a new house and school. But, I promise, it will be fine. I’ve never known anyone as level headed as you, Zilly. You are not going crazy.”

“Mom, there was someone standing in my room. I saw them.”

She stood and offered me a hand up. “Let’s go see.” She opened doors and looked under the bed. I felt like I was five again and she had to prove to me that there was no boogeyman in my room so I’d go to sleep.

A brief inspection of my vacant room only confirmed my suspicions. I was losing it. Mom took hold of my hand. “I think it’s just the stress of moving, Brazil. Why don’t you sleep with me in my room until you stop having these--”

“What? Hallucinations? See, you think I’m crazy too.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Zilly. Just stressed. We’ve been through a lot this last year.”

“Fine, I’m stressed.” Having her think I was just imagining things made me feel worse about everything, my sanity, this house, and my new life. “Then you won’t mind if I start drinking wine to take the edge off.”

She smiled. “Wine? That stuff is for wimps. I say you head straight for the whiskey.” She released my hand and turned to leave. I followed close at her heels like I did the night when we’d both stayed up to watch Silence of the Lambs. I did crawl into bed with her that night, but I didn’t think I’d take her up on her invitation this time. Although, I was seriously considering leaving the light on in my bedroom all night.

The rest of the evening was uneventful. Mom had topped the macaroni and cheese with heaps of bread crumbs which was a bonus. The boys rattled on about their new school. From the sound of it, they had been instantly catapulted to their usual rock star status.

Bed sounded inviting and I was tired enough to slip into a dreamless sleep without leaving the light on. Of course, I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that crazy people don’t dream.

Chapter 6

We hadn’t hung any curtains on the upstairs windows yet, and irritating, early morning sunlight crept into my bedroom before the alarm rang. I slid out of bed and walked to my dresser. Even though I’d unpacked and organized my drawers only a few days ago, I couldn’t find a thing in them. As I rifled through my shorts searching for my favorite khaki ones, I could hear the boys race down the hall to the bathroom.

I ran to the door and shouted after them. “You have five minutes!” They slammed shut the door. Great. And Mom was convinced the one bathroom thing would work. I checked my hair in the mirror to see if I could avoid washing it, and the old key caught my eye. I had shut the drawer without looking inside. Now I had the urge to see what it held. A couple of yanks and it opened. I could have sworn I smelled the faint scent of roses as I bent down to look inside.

Tucked at the very back was a stack of yellowed letters. I reached in and pulled them out. They were tied with a black piece of string.  The top one was addressed to a girl named Emily living here in Pelican Bay. It was stamped RETURN TO SENDER. Apparently the letter never reached her.

The bathroom door burst open, and I could hear the boys run down the hall to their room. The letters would have to wait or I would be late for another wonderful day at my new school.

My bottom locker gave me a rather interesting perspective of my new schoolmates. There were the oversized, untied skater shoes inhabited by guys who thought they were too awesome to walk like normal people so they shuffled in lose shoes. The Birkenstock and sandal people always had a light, Mother Nature is grand, sort of gait as they carried their binders covered with PETA stickers to class. The heavy, black army boots looked depressed and tortured as they clumped down the gum-covered cement path. I recognized Seth’s running shoes immediately as I balled myself into a cramped, crouched position to find my science book and pencil. But this time there were funky black ankle boots next to him. A flirty giggle rained down on my head.

“Gina, stop doing that. It tickles,” Seth said.

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it,” Gina giggled again.

“You really nailed Hank yesterday.”

I glanced up to see that Seth was talking to me. His girlfriend, who was apparently named Gina, had also shifted her attention to me. She had big hazel eyes that were heavily lined in thick black make-up and a tiny nose with freckles. Anyone who could still be that cute under such heavy mascara and eyeliner would not easily win my approval. I stood.

“He walked out of here with a bright red face,” Seth said. “What’s a gazillion, anyway?

I shrugged. “I think it’s a one with a bazillion zeros after it.”

Seth laughed. Gina wrapped her arms around his and pressed against him.

“This is Gina.”

Gina smiled at me. “I’m his girlfriend.” Of course the tongue in his ear the day before had pretty much already sealed that fact for me.

“A bunch of us are meeting after school at Bill’s Burgers today. We hang out and annoy the management. Why don’t you come with us?”

“Yeah, you should come.” Gina pretended to be enthusiastic about the idea. It was a pathetic attempt.

“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know at the end of the day.” Meeting new people did not fit in to my freshly constructed world of being unsocial and friendless.

“I could give you a ride,” Seth added. Gina smiled weakly at me as they left.

Hank’s giant, square head towered over the flock of students heading my way. It was time to scoot to class. After yesterday’s insult, the boob would either be extra mean to me or even more sleazy after convincing himself that I was playing hard to get.

Julie caught up to me at lunch. Although she’d lived here in Pelican Bay all her life, she didn’t seem to have many friends, but she knew about everyone. She had a habit of constantly smoothing down the stubborn wave in her hair. Her curls were obviously a source of discontent. Today she was overdressed in a straight off the mannequin look with matching purple skirt and t-shirt. She reminded me a little of Christy, chatty and shallow but sweet.

“See that tall girl under the tree over there in the cheerleading uniform.” Julie motioned to our left with her eyes as she peered over her can of orange soda.

I glanced in the direction of the tree. Six cheerleaders were draped around a bench in their spring uniforms. “I see a lot of uniforms.”

“The tallest one with the green headband.”

“Yes, I see her.” I hoped this was going somewhere interesting, but with Julie I had my doubts.

She took a loud sip of her soda before lowering the can. “During our sophomore year, she left the squad and school for nine months before returning with bigger boobs. Rumors had swirled between pregnancy and a boob job. I’m going with the pregnancy story.”

I nodded. “The nine month thing makes that theory your safest bet.”

Julie smiled confidently. That was another trait she shared with Christy, sarcasm flew right over her head.

Seth and Gina weren’t in the quad for lunch. I assumed she’d dragged him into some utility closet to make out. She seemed to be a very hands-on kind of girlfriend. “How long have Seth and Gina been together?” I don’t know why I wanted to torture myself, but I figured Julie would know.

She grabbed my wrist and squeezed it. “Isn’t he the hottest guy ever?” I glanced around to see if anyone had heard the outburst, but apparently, Julie was the type of person people generally ignored.

“He’s definitely cute, but she seems rather attached to him.”

Julie let go of my wrist and rolled her eyes. “Gina does not let him out of her sight.” She stuffed a corn chip into her mouth. “But can you blame her? They’ve been together for a year and a half. She’s a total skank though. I don’t know what he sees in her.” Julie looked past my shoulder. “Speaking of Seth, there’s his mortal enemy, Hank.”

I shrank down hoping to become invisible. “He’s not coming this way, is he?”

“No, he’s headed to the cheer squad table. Why? Do you know him?”

“His locker is right above mine, and I sort of blew him off yesterday.”

Julie lifted her hand for a high-five which I felt compelled to return. “I wish I’d been there for that. He’s a total jerk. One day he slammed into me in the hallway and sent me flying back on my butt. He walked right by without even a sorry or a hand up.”

“Neanderthals aren’t known for chivalry.”

Julie blinked a couple of times like she was trying to decipher my comment.

“Never mind,” I said.

Chapter 7

Either I was in the mood to punish myself or my willpower to remain an island in my new school was crumbling. It may have even been the excruciatingly dull day at school that led me to the decision. Whatever the reason, I decided to join Seth and his friends at the burger place.

“We can pile into my car,” Seth said, Gina holding tightly onto his hand. Clingy, little thing.

Bill’s Burgers looked like a place surfers would have hung out in the 1950s. A sort of Beach Boys meets the cast of Grease décor. Seth headed straight to an already crowded booth at the back. Two of his friends had Mohawks. Rather unoriginal. Although one guy did have his in pink and black stripes, which gave him a flamingo crossed with zebra look that was pretty tight. A girl with bleached blonde, frizzy hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a bottle of shampoo since Christmas sat between the Mohawk guys.

“This is Brazil. She just moved here from Boston.” Seth waved me into the booth. He followed and his human armband tucked herself in next to him.

“Brazil? Did you make that name up?” the blonde asked. She had a tattoo on her neck, but it was hard to tell exactly what it was supposed to be. It may have been a vine of flowers or the face of a pirate with a rose in his teeth. Hopefully she didn’t shell out too much cash for that ink disaster.

“My mom made it up.”

“Was it a family name?” Seth asked.

“It’s a dull story.” I didn’t feel like going into a discussion about my dad or my name.

“You kids need to order something if you’re going to take up a booth,” a man with a round tummy and Hawaiian shirt, possibly even Bill himself, said as he wiped his hands on a greasy white apron.

Gina scooted out and Seth followed. “We were just getting up to order something.” Seth looked at the group in the booth. “The usual?”

“Make sure the fries are well done this time,” the pink and black Mohawk guy said.

I started to slide out of the booth.

“I’ve got it. My treat. What do you want?” Seth asked.

I sat back. “Thanks. A diet coke.” Seth left with his girlfriend and an awkward silence followed. “So are you all in a band?” It was the first asinine thing to pop into my head.

They all looked slyly between each other like a group of friends who had been together for a long time and who shared a bunch of secrets. I no longer had that privilege. My past secrets and silent looks of communication between friends were back in Boston.

The frizzy-haired blonde gave me a snippy look that made me want to bring up her very stupid tattoo. But I kept my mouth shut. “No, we just like to dress like we’re in one.”

Obviously, I had chosen to come because I was in the mood to punish myself, and I needed to take my beating in silence.

Seth and Gina returned with the trays, but I wasn’t relieved to see him. I really wanted to leave. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out.

“Hello.”
Silent pause.

“Hello.”

“Brazil, it’s me.” Blake’s voice came through my phone.

“What?”

“I need to talk to you, Zilly. About Jen and me.”

He was calling her Jen. How cute. “I can’t talk, Blake. I only have a thousand minutes on my phone plan, and I don’t want to waste any of them on you.” I really didn’t hate the guy. In fact, it occurred to me after hearing his voice that I had no feelings whatsoever about him. And I definitely didn’t want to sit through any dull, dim-witted explanation. I snapped the phone shut. The faces in the booth were all staring at me.

“That was harsh.” This coming from a guy with pink and black hair.

“He’s sleeping with my best friend and he’s apparently convinced himself that I care.” I took a sip of my drink.

The blonde grinned and nodded her approval at me. “They’re all assholes.”

“And that’s what you love best about us,” Seth said, with a tilted smile. It was only half a smile, but it had the same dangerous impact as the full thing. He picked my phone up off the table and turned it over in his hand. “Your phone has teeth marks in it.”

I shrugged. “Some dogs like rawhide. My mom’s dog craves technological devices. This time she cracked the display so I can’t tell who is calling. Otherwise I wouldn’t have answered it.”

“So he was your boyfriend?” Seth asked. He was awfully curious.

Deciding to be noncommittal, I shrugged. The more I’d thought about the whole Blake thing, the more I realized that I was really only hurt by Jen’s betrayal. Although it wasn’t all that much of a betrayal since I’d given the guy as much thought as a bag of potato chips these last few weeks. I hated to admit that Mom was right. I didn’t leave him a nasty comment that night because I didn’t think enough of him to bother.

Seth stared at me with his intense brown eyes but said nothing. Gina, apparently starved for his attention, took a bite of the fry he was holding his in fingers. He turned to smile at her. I wondered how much he liked her. Sometimes it seemed there was more admiration from her side but I might’ve just been hoping that.

My phone vibrated again. Shit. I ignored it but it went off again. If it was Mom, she would panic if I didn’t eventually pick it up, so I did.

“Hello?”

“Zilly, it’s Dad.”

Why the man thought he had to tell me like we were strangers and I wouldn’t recognize his voice made me want to scream. “What’s up, Dad?” I emphasized the word dad because I knew the others would no longer be interested in my conversation and could return to shoveling ketchup drenched fries into their mouths. I twisted to the side and stuck a finger in my ear to hear him.

“Are you able to make it this weekend after all?” I asked.

“No, sweetheart, I’ve still got plans. I’m going to New York to meet Cynthia’s parents.”

I wanted to snap the phone shut like I’d done to Blake.

“Zilly, are you still there? What’s all that noise in the background?”

I didn’t look up but I felt Seth’s eyes watching me. “I thought you were canceling because you had to work.” Anything, robbing a bank, having a heart transplant, flying to Mars, would have been better than the reason he just gave me. It was amazing how quickly a day’s rating could fall to a two.

“Have you been making new friends?” he asked.

I scanned the table looking at the strange faces around me. “You bet. I’ve got to go, Dad. It’s really hard to hear in here.”

“Brazil?”

“What?”

“I love you,” his voice was low and choppy.

“Safe landing, Dad.” I closed my phone and disconnected his call.

“That sounded heavy,” Seth said.

“Aren’t cell phones great?” I said weakly as I tossed my slightly chewed one around in my hand. “Now parents can pop in on your life at any time.” I picked up my coke. “I really need to get going, Seth. Thanks for the drink. I can walk home from here.”

“Are you sure? Where do you live?”

“The old house on the bay.”

All the spikes of hair leaned forward at attention. “Dude! You live in the haunted house?” the friend with the dull brown Mohawk asked.

“That’s me. The newest dweller of Hell House,” I said. “But the only thing scary in it is my mom’s cooking.” I had no intentions of telling this crowd about the creepy stuff I’d experienced in the house.

“I heard the guy drowned himself because he was insane with heartbreak,” the blonde said.

“Wouldn’t that be awesome!” Gina piped up. “To have a guy so in love with you he would actually kill himself for you.”

Seth stared at her for a second. There was a look on his face that made it pretty clear he had no intention of jumping off a freeway overpass for Gina any time soon.

“That place is great. It must be cool living there,” Seth said.

I gave him a look that said you must be kidding. His eyes locked with mine for a long moment. We didn’t say anything. I motioned for him to move so I could slide out of the booth and head for that terrific haunted house I now called home.

Mom looked up from her laptop as I walked into the family room. “How was it? Did you have fun?”

I decided not to tell her about the conversation with Dad. Not because I worried about her feelings. She didn’t seem to think much of Dad anymore, and she might not even care that he was meeting Cynthia’s parents. Mostly I wanted to avoid her patronizing told-you-so response.

I sorted through the mail stacked on the end table. “You know, Mom, you’re delusional if you think I’m just going to fire up a brand new social life out here. I’m not gorgeous and perfect like Tyler and Raymond, and frankly, I’m not that interested in meeting new people.”

She went back to her keyboard. “Well, if you’re not interested then I’m not going to worry about it.”

I plucked my Horse and Rider magazine from the pile of mail. “Good, don’t. I will just wither away friendless, and eventually, I will live in a small, rundown house surrounded by a thousand cats and stacks of old equestrian magazines.”

Mom stood from her computer and sat down next to me. She patted my thigh with her hand. “You won’t be completely friendless, kiddo. As you may have noticed, no matter how bitchy you are to me, I always love you.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat and rested my head on her shoulder. “I know. You’re even more pathetic than me.”

We sat there for awhile staring at the cracked plaster on the wall and listening to the waves crashing in the ocean that was now our backyard. Then Mom kissed the top of my head and jumped up.

“I’ve got to start dinner. The boys will be hungry.”

“I’ve got some homework.” I looked back at her as I reached the staircase. “Do we have any holy water or something?”

Mom laughed. “Do you want me to go into your room first? Or you could take Darcy up with you.”

“Yeah, she’s such a menacing character and all.” Now I was feeling like a goofy little kid again. “I’ll go it alone. Story of my life lately.” I climbed up to my room and took a deep, calming breath at my door. I would have to get over my paranoia or end up sleeping downstairs on the couch. The room was still when I entered. From what I could tell, nothing had moved and there were no strange odors.

I changed into sweats and was about to go back downstairs to do homework when the old letters caught my eye. It really wouldn’t be wrong to read mail from people who were dead, I convinced myself as untied the black string.

The paper felt thick and dry as I removed it from the envelope. Someone had hand painted a border of flowers on the letter. Yellow and purple blossoms trailed up a long twisting green vine, which climbed over one side and across the top of the paper. The letter was dated 1880 and the handwriting looked like calligraphy.

July 9, 1880

My Angel, My Love, My Emily,

I have sent you this sprig of orchids. You must lend your sweet fragrance to them for they have none.

Time is endless without you here on the bay. Not a day passes, not a moment when my heart does not speak the precious, poetic syllables of your name. Alas, I combed the white sands of this wretched, lonely beach in an attempt to clear my mind of its insatiable longing for you. But the curve of the cream colored conch only reminded me of your wholly adorable ear. The ear I teased between my lips not more than a month ago. An action, which I confess, I performed only to hear your unforgettable laugh. As evening sky blushed pink from the sinking sunlight, I could only think how it reminded me of your cheeks. That smooth, pink skin where my kisses feel so at home.

Pray, do not cause me this agony any longer, my flaxen-haired enchantress. It is not but six months from my eighteenth year when father’s trust becomes mine. We could live happily here at the bay, or on a cloud, or on star, or wherever you’d like. Some people need food and shelter to survive. I need only you.

Yours eternally,

Sebastian

“Geez, that was over the top,” I mumbled as I turned to sit in my chair. Instead, my butt landed with a jarring thud on the hard floor. As I smacked the ground, I was sure I’d heard the chair scrape the floor as if someone had suddenly moved it. I twisted back and looked over my shoulder. The chair was two feet away. How did I miscalculate that? I jumped to my feet. “Who’s there?” I asked. My voice stuck in my dry throat. I stared at my chair and backed up to the door. My plan was to run out of the room, shut the door behind me, and never enter again, but curiosity drew me to the stack of letters.

Maybe my room was haunted. Maybe it was this Sebastian guy, and I’d insulted him with my remark about his corny letter. I was tired of these games. Suddenly, I wanted, no needed, to know if I really was going crazy or if this house was truly haunted. And at this point, I wasn’t sure which conclusion I feared the most.

I picked up the second letter. This one was thicker as if it had something inside besides a letter. My fingers shook like crazy as I ripped it open.

There was a square postcard with an intricate painting of a fairy inside. She was amazing with long golden hair and sheer, blue and silver wings. A mystical glow framed the entire picture. This guy could paint. I placed the fairy painting on the desk.

The second card was a faded brownish photo. It was the letter writer. It had to be. I turned it over. Written neatly on the back was the name Sebastian Middleton, January, 1880. I turned it back over. Even though the picture was faded, I could see his face clearly. His brown hair was long and curly and his eyes were round and dark. His expression was serious, but there was this hint of troublemaker in the firm set of his mouth. He looked rather uncomfortable in his stiff looking suit and high white collar. He held a black top hat in his hand. Too bad those don’t come back in style. I could think of several guys that would look deadly sweet in a top hat.

I opened the letter and read it.

July 20, 1880

Dearest Emily,

I have come up with a million excuses as to why the letter I wrote you was returned unopened. Perhaps the Earth was not quite even with the Sun that day, or the crickets chirped too loudly in the summer night air. Or maybe it was the fault of the overwrought postal service. It cannot be anything else.

I have read your letters over and over again until my eyes blurred. Perchance you were angry with me for not sending the photograph you had asked for months ago. I’ve enclosed it now, accompanied by this lacy-winged wood sprite. She is not to return without word from my angel’s velvet lips.

My heart aches and I’m defenseless without you. You must know this, my love.

Yours always,

Sebastian

“No wonder she returned the letters unopened,” I spoke into the cool air of the room as if someone were listening. “Desperation is a major turn-off.”

My chair rolled across the room into the wall, and I flew out of the bedroom and down the stairs as if a madman was chasing me. And quite possibly there was.

My mom pushed her head out from the kitchen. “You sound like a herd of buffalo coming down those stairs.”

I stopped to catch my breath. “Normally, I would be completely insulted by that,” my hand went to my chest as I took another deep breath, “but at the moment, I’m more freaked out by the ghost in my bedroom.”

Mom smiled and disappeared back into the kitchen. I followed. “Mom, really, I need some kind of exorcist, or priest or something. That guy is haunting my room.”

“What guy?” she asked not looking up from the salad she was chopping.

“The crazy, lovesick guy who killed himself here.” I rested my hands on the edge of the counter trying to steady them.

Mom swept up a pile of lettuce and dropped it into a bowl. “Grandpa said the story was greatly exaggerated. He apparently drowned while taking a swim.”

“No, I think he died because he was obsessed with some girl. His letters were in that old bookcase. I read some of them, and seriously, he was stalker material.”

Mom wiped her hands on her apron and reached back to untie it. She handed it to me. “I have to pick up the boys. You can finish cutting the tomatoes.” She looked at me. “Zilly, I know this move has been hard for you, but--”

I could feel heat rising in my face. I snatched the apron from her hand and put it on. “You’re right, Mom. It’s all in my imagination. Run along and I’ll finish dinner.” My words could not have sounded angrier if I’d said them through gritted teeth.

The herd of animals followed her to the door then sat to wait for her return. I was alone. The hair stood up on my forearms as I chopped the tomatoes. They looked better prepared for spaghetti sauce than salad by the time I had sawed through them. I reached for the cucumber but dropped it as an icy breeze blew across the back of my neck. It bounced to the floor. Darcy raced over and grabbed it. The dog trotted toward the family room with her prize but spit it out five feet from the door. A growl vibrated from her throat as she stared at the kitchen table. The cats ran from the room, but it wasn’t Darcy’s growl that frightened them. I snatched up a radish and threw it at the dog’s butt. She whimpered and ran from the room leaving the vegetable on the floor.

Now Lizzie’s attention had been drawn to the table only instead of a growl, she wagged her tail nervously. Even the animals were possessed. I turned back to the cutting board.

“You know nothing of love,” a deep voice came from behind me. I froze, clutching the knife tightly in my fingers. My gaze flashed sideways to Lizzie. She stared at something directly behind me. I would have screamed if the sound had not lodged in my chest. Slowly, I turned around.

“How do you do? I am Sebastian Middleton.”

The knife slipped to the floor, barely missing my toes. “Holy crap,” the words sputtered from my lips.

“Very poetic. I can see why you have such a problem with my writing. You are obviously a genius when it comes to prose. ”

The room began to spin, and I swayed back and forth. A kitchen chair slid across the room and circled behind me. I plopped down hard. “This is impossible. There is no way you’re real.” The long white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and his feet were bare. He looked just like his picture but less solid, nearly transparent in fact. I could see past his body right through to the clock on the wall.

“I am real.”

I lunged for the knife on the ground and hurled it at him. It slid right through him and landed point first in the door.

He shrugged his sheer shoulders. “Well, I’m real in the stuck between this world and the other world sense, anyhow.”

I pressed my hands over my face. “Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

“You’ve destroyed those tomatoes.”

I dropped my hands. “What do you want from me? This has to be a bad dream. Soon I will wake up in my cozy bed.” I pinched my arm but it didn’t wake me.

“It’s not a dream, Brazil. And I must say that is the strangest name I have ever heard.”

I stood and circled behind the chair as if it could provide some kind of protection. My gaze flitted to the door. I contemplated making a dash for it, but my legs felt as wobbly as pudding.

Lizzie had already bored of the whole thing and had returned to her sentry station at the back door. Wheels crunched the gravel on the driveway, and my heart jumped to my throat. “Don’t move,” I told the wavy vision of dark curls and penetrating eyes in front of me. “I want my mom to see you.” I flew out of the back door and nearly ran into the front end of the car as Mom parked it.

She jumped out of the driver’s seat. “Brazil! What are you doing? I could have hit you.”

My voice cracked painfully out of my throat as I motioned wildly to the back door. “He’s there, in the kitchen.” I grabbed her arm and began to pull her along. “The ghost is in our kitchen.”

The twins raced past us and through the back door. We stepped into an empty kitchen.

“You jerk, Zilly. There’s no ghost in here,” Tyler said.

Aside from the animals that had run in to greet Mom, the kitchen was deserted.

“I swear, Mom, there was a guy standing right there. See the knife in the door? I threw it and it went right through him.”

She walked over, pulled the knife from the door, and turned it over in her palm a few times. She looked worried. For a minute I’d almost convinced myself she believed me. “Brazil, it’s been a rough week. The house is old. A place like this can cause people to imagine all kinds of things.”

I stared at her for a minute then walked out of the kitchen.

The apparition did not appear again that evening. The twins teased me nonstop, and Mom kept staring at me, obviously trying to decide if she should have me committed. I downed two aspirin with a glass of orange juice. The mixture nearly burned a hole in my stomach as I trudged up to my room. After all, it didn’t matter where I was in the house because the entire place was haunted, and the stalker ghost apparently only had issues with me.

Chapter 8

“Did you realize you do this odd, little twitching thing with your nose when you sleep?”

My eyes shot open, and I flew out of bed and landed on the hard ground with a thud.

My transparent bedfellow peered down at me. “Not to worry. With that button-sized nose of yours, it is not altogether unappealing. Rather like a rabbit.”

I sat up and scooted several feet away on my butt. “You--you are on my bed.”

He lowered his head and surveyed the side of the mattress before looking back up. “Yes, it appears so. I thought you twenty-first century girls were open-minded about such things.”

“No, not really. I haven’t allowed any strangers onto my bed lately. Especially not see-through ones.”

He rose up silently and floated off the bed to sit on the window seat. “You’re right. Where are my manners? Why, we hardly know each other.”

I stood and contemplated racing into the hallway or screaming to get someone’s attention, but I had a feeling Sebastian would disappear again, and I would be fitted for a straight jacket.

I pushed to my feet and pressed against the wall adjacent to the door. “Why are you haunting me? Couldn’t you find someone else to bother? I’m sort of in the middle of feeling sorry for myself at the moment.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. But I decided you were spending too much time thinking about Brazil, so I’m giving you something else to think about.”

“I do not spend too much time thinking about Brazil.  And if you were wondering why Emily didn’t write back, it might have had something to do with the fact that you’re extremely irritating.”

“Brazil!” Mom’s voice drifted up the stairwell. “Brazil, are you on the phone? You’ll be late for school.”

The ghostly figure of Sebastian Middleton floated in and out of focus. I blinked hard to see if I could make him disappear altogether. When I opened my eyes the third time, he’d moved closer. I tried to back up but the wall stopped me.

“You needn’t be afraid of me. I am no longer flesh and bone.”

“Considering I can see straight through you to the beach below, I’ve sort of figured that out. What do you want from me?”

“I need your help.”

One of the twins rapped loudly on my door and I startled. Sebastian vanished. “Bathroom is all yours, Zilly,” Tyler shouted through the door.

“But don’t expect any hot water,” Raymond added, and they both laughed as they plodded down the hall to their room.

My gaze flashed around the empty room. Sebastian was gone. At least for now. With trembling hands and a racing heart, I rummaged through my drawer to look for my jean shorts and raced to the bathroom to make up for lost time.

The floor, mirrors, and walls were soaked as usual. I reached in to turn on the water and a thought poked into my mind. What could possibly keep my ghostly friend from joining me in the bathroom? I found myself searching under the sink, behind the toilet, and inside the tub, but he was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t taking any chances. I showered in my pajamas. It was awkward to say the least, but knowing he could pop in on me anywhere gave me the shivers.

I grabbed a dry towel and did that silly dance you do at the beach when your mom holds a towel around you so you can climb out of your wet bathing suit. It was distinctly harder holding the towel with my teeth and rolling off wet pajamas. I threw on my dry clothes and dropped my wet pajamas over the towel rack. The hall was dimly lit. I looked both ways as if crossing the street. No ghost.

Apparently, I had not seen him in the bathroom or the hall because he was perched on the windowsill of my room flipping through my magazine. The pages were moving without him touching them. He did not look up as I entered. For an apparition, he had a fantastic head of dark, curly hair.

“I am too much of a gentleman to watch you in the shower,” he said.

“How should I know that? After all, I woke up with you breathing over me this morning.”

He laughed. Who knew dead people still had a funny bone? “I’m rather certain that I was not breathing on you.”

“Well, you were hovering anyway.” I grabbed a pair of earrings. “And how do you know that I was worried about you watching me?” My eyes widened as I glanced at him. “Unless, of course, you were watching me?”

“Let’s just say you are a girl with a lot of expression. It is easy to read your thoughts.”

“Great.” I leaned toward my mirror and pushed my earrings through my lobes with trembling fingers, wondering how long my incorporeal house guest would be sticking around this morning. I glanced over without turning my head.

The magazine rose in the air and turned sideways and Sebastian leaned his head as if he was looking at a centerfold. “Girls are ridiculously skinny these days. Rather like holding a skeleton, I imagine.”

“My family thinks I’m crazy.” I turned to face him. “Actually, I’m pretty sure they’re right. And now I’m talking to you like we’re old acquaintances.” Had I been that desperate for a confidante that I’d invented a friend? But what girl in her right mind would conjure up a sweet-looking guy from the nineteenth century who was obsessed with another girl. Even though I had little doubt I was in my right mind at all, I was still convinced that my imaginary guy friend would have the hots for me and not someone else. “You still haven’t told me what you want from me?”

“It has to do with my letters.” He floated up and the magazine dropped to the floor. He was tall for a dead guy.

I scooted a wide berth around him to the window seat where my shoes sat. “Listen, I can help you rewrite your letters, but something tells me this Emily chick is not going to be around to read them.”

A huge rush of cold air blew across the room and pushed me hard onto the window seat. “What the fuck!” I glared up at him. “What was that for?” My voice got shaky at the end of my question when I saw that his eyes were round and black with anger. I inched back further on the seat.

“How could you possibly improve my letters with your ridiculous utterances like holy crap and what the fuck? And of course my dear Emily is gone. She would be more than a century old.” The fury in his voice sent a nervous tremor through me, and I wondered if I could slip past him to the door.

My fingers clutched the edge of the window seat nervously. “If Emily is dead then why don’t you find her?”

“Of course, you are right. Why did that not occur to me? I’ll just leave and go find my dear Emily.” He headed toward the window. I jumped out of the way. “Oh yes, I just remembered,” he floated closer and glowered down at me, “I’m stuck here . . . with you,” he added harshly.

Now I was pissed. “Look, this is not exactly a picnic for me either. Even though you are nice looking for a dead guy, and you have that heart-stopping English accent, you are still rude, arrogant, and a pretty major inconvenience in my life at the moment.”

He floated to the window and gazed down at the beach. “I’m sorry to be an inconvenience.” His voice sounded distant as if his thoughts had traveled off to a faraway time. His face turned up to look at me. “You think I’m nice-looking?”

I shrugged. “Let’s just say you’re the best-looking dead guy I’ve met so far.”

“You are jesting with me.” He turned away. “Never mind. I thought I had finally found someone to help me out of this middle world and into the next, but you are not that person.” With that he disappeared leaving a steamy mist circling around the room. My stomach twisted into a knot as I watched the moist cloud evaporate. I sat back on the window seat to put on my shoes.

“Brazil!” Mom’s shout startled me, and my head smacked the window.

I glanced at the clock. Now I was late for school, and my head was throbbing. The whole time I wondered if the ghost was gone for good. And I wondered if he was angry enough to make my life even more miserable than it already was. I mean, I’ve had enemies before but never a pissed- off dead guy.

****

I decided not bring up ghosts anymore to Mom. I was sure she was just one crazy Brazil rant away from calling a psychologist. I arrived at school and moved around in a cloud all day. The morning was uneventful, or at least, I’m pretty sure it was. Julie had talked my ear off while we waited for chemistry to start. I felt a little guilty that I’d barely heard a word she’d said. All I could think of was that I doubted anyone else was shambling through the halls worried about the angry ghost in their bedroom. By third period, after I’d nearly jumped out of my chair when the guy behind me tapped my shoulder to borrow a pencil, I’d convinced myself that I had to contact Sebastian and tell him I would help him. Even if I had no idea how to do that. Maybe if I helped him pass through to the other world, he would not be lingering in the house any longer. I’d read somewhere that spirits stick around if they have some terrible issue to resolve. This must have to do with Emily. I had no idea how I could help with that, but I had to give it a whirl or be stuck with him popping in and out of my life.

A small group of people had gathered around Seth’s locker before lunch. Seth was there and so was Mr. Burke, the vice principal. As I approached, I could see black paint on the front of Seth’s locker. I peered past Mr. Burke. The words blood sucker were spray painted on the door.

“Why would I paint this on my own locker, Mr. Burke?” Seth asked.

Mr. Burke took hold of the door and examined the inside edge as if he was able to see fingerprints with his naked eye. “Well, do you know who did it?” As if on cue, Hank lumbered up to his locker.

“Man, look at that. Freak had his locker ambushed,” Hank said.

Everyone turned to look at the jerk. “Did you have anything to do with this, Hank?” Mr. Burke asked. Was the man really so clueless that he had to ask? He was the vice principal. He had to know Hank was an ignorant ass.

Hank held up his hands. “Don’t look at me.” He busied himself in his own locker.

“Look, Mr. Burke, I’ll find Mr. Spencer and get a bucket and scrub brush. It’ll be gone in a few minutes,” Seth said. He pushed past the vice principal and squeezed by Hank. “Fucker,” he said through gritted teeth.

I peeked up at Hank’s face. He forced a grin, but I could swear he was nervous about the look Seth had given him.

Normally, it made me feel better about my own day when I saw someone else having a day that was a two or a three, especially if it was someone despicable. Someone like Hank. Unfortunately, today Seth was the one wavering over a two. After the locker incident, I saw Seth sitting with Gina on the wall of the quad at lunch. She had just pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her purse when one of the all-important hall proctors stepped into the lunch area. Gina saw the guy and panicked. She threw the pack of cigarettes into Seth’s lap, and the proctor headed right toward them. Seth shook his head in disbelief at his girlfriend and stood to follow the proctor, with cigarettes in hand, to the principal’s office. Gina seemed upset at first at what she’d done, but her guilt was fleeting because a few minutes later she was laughing it up with one of her hairdo challenged friends.

The day was finally over, and I tossed the books I didn’t need into my locker. Seth was at his locker too. The look on his face made me feel sorry for him. It was a heated mixture of anger, irritation, and sadness. And as hot as he looked when he smiled, this serious, sort of anguished look made him one great big package of heartbreak. I had a terrible urge to kiss the frown lines from his forehead.

I slammed my locker shut with my foot. “Did you get in a lot of trouble?”

His face popped around the door. The black paint had worked its way into the rough surface and the letters s-u-c- and k were still slightly visible. “I guess you saw what happened. An hour of detention plus now I’ve got to convince my mom that I don’t smoke.”

Seth cracked a faint smile. Poor guy. I felt like telling him the day was only a two and it would eventually fade from his memory, but he would probably think I was a nutcase. Which I sort of was.

He closed his locker and leaned against it with his arms crossed. He was staring at me with those lash-fringed eyes. There was the tiniest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but it was hard to break into a full smile when your day had been shitty. “So what kind of stuff are you into?”

“Stuff?” I asked.

“I mean what do you like to do?”

I shrugged. “I used to ride horses, but we had to sell mine when my parents divorced.”

“That must have sucked.”

“My parent’s divorce set off a chain of sucky events and the dominoes keep falling.”

Seth leaned forward and motioned to his locker door with his head. “Sucky seems to be the order of the day for me.” He pressed his back against the lockers again. “There are stables down at the end of the cove where you can ride on the beach. We should go sometime.”

“S—sure,” I stuttered, confused by his suggestion.

“I like the way you explain stuff,” he said after an awkward silence. “Not many people could put divorce, sucky events, and falling dominoes in the same sentence and have it sound exactly right.

I saw Gina slinking down the hallway toward us, so I stooped back down to my locker to avoid talking to her. I pretended to look for something, not sure what, but I made it look important.

“Babe, you aren’t mad at me, are you?” Gina’s voice was drippy sweet. “I’ll wait for you after detention and make it up to you.” The last words were whispered seductively yet loud enough to be sure that I heard. Now I wish I’d left the hall instead of hanging out at my locker shuffling my books back and forth.

Seth’s locker slammed shut. “You want to make it up to me? Then you sit in detention for an hour this afternoon.” He walked away.

“But, Babe—“

“I hate it when you call me that,” Seth said loudly into the air as he headed toward detention.

I heard her tiny shoes run after him, and I straightened from my crouch. At least the conversation with Seth had taken my mind off my ghost problem for a while. Did Seth just ask me out or was that wishful thinking? Pretty soon I was going to need a new rating system for my day. Instead of how bad it’s going, I’d have to factor in a weirdness rating. Today was definitely high on that scale. In fact I was pretty sure ten wasn’t high enough for a day that included a ghost.

Chapter 9

For three days I’d not seen or heard anything that resembled a ghost. I’d almost convinced myself that Sebastian Middleton was gone for good, or maybe he’d really been a figment of my crazy imagination. Seth’s interest in me had been a figment too. I’d hardly seen him for the rest of the week as if he was purposely avoiding his locker so he wouldn’t have to see me. But I’d seen more than enough of Hank. This morning I had backed up into him accidentally, and he’d groaned crudely in my ear. Actually, it had been more of a primitive grunt.

The boys were at baseball, Mom was at work, and the house was extra scary at dusk. Every noise made me jump. I’d tried to talk the animals into coming upstairs with me but when Mom’s not at home, they sit in front of the door and wait for her.

Sebastian’s letters sat perched in a neat stack on the old bookcase. There must have been at least ten. I stared at the brittle, yellowed envelopes for a long time and suddenly, it seemed horribly sad. He loved Emily so much, he kept on writing even though there was no response. I picked up one of the letters. The dried paper ripped open easily. It was Friday night and I had nothing to do and no friends to speak of. I’d been avoiding the computer because I still wasn’t sure what to say to Jen. I was still hurt by what she’d done, but I was more upset about not having her to confide in. And man did I have some stuff to tell. Not that I was totally sure that Jen would believe me either. I hardly believed me.

I picked up a letter. There was a cluster of limp, dead daisies painted in the corner which was more than a little disturbing. Maybe he had gone mad with heartbreak before he killed himself.

August 4, 1880

Dammit, Angel! Pray, do not torture me with your silence.

News of your death would be easier to bear than your wordless disdain.

Yours in anguish,

Sebastian

Geez, that was harsh. I read the words again. I could almost picture Sebastian hunched over his desk, writing feverishly, torn between anguish and rage. Those handwritten letters sure could put across a lot more emotion than a text message.  I tossed the letter onto the bookcase. “Emily was a bitch.” Bad choice of words.

The window in my room, which seemed as if it had been stuck shut for a century, flew open and the letters, my school notebooks, and every other thing lighter than the computer monitor blew across the room and to the floor. A frosty cloud of sea air blew into the room. I raced to the window and pulled with all my might but it wouldn’t budge. I gave one final, herculean tug, and it swung shut easily, sending me hard onto my butt. The fog cleared and Sebastian stood over me with his arms crossed and fury swirling in his brown eyes.

I rubbed my tailbone and scowled up at him. “You know I rode horses for ten years, and I don’t think I ever fell on my ass as often as I have since you started floating around.”

He shrugged his transparent but broad shoulders still draped with the white dropped sleeve shirt. “I guess it’s a good thing it’s so round then,” he quipped before vanishing and reappearing on my windowsill.

“So round?” I pushed to my feet and brushed off my backside. “What do you mean so round? There is nothing wrong with my butt.” I began snatching up my things. A knock at my door made me jump. Mom peeked inside. My gaze flashed to the window, but Sebastian was gone.

“Everything alright, Zilly?” She looked at the floor and opened the door wider. “What on earth happened in here? It looks like a tornado swept through.”

I continued retrieving my scattered stuff. “The window blew open.”

“I’m going to make dinner while you pick up. I have something to tell you about when you come down. Oh, and I need you to keep an eye on the boys tomorrow. We’re having a sale at the shop, so I have to be there all day.”

“Can’t wait.” It wasn’t like I had anything on my social calendar anyhow. I wished Sebastian would reappear while Mom was in the room so I could convince myself that I wasn’t losing it completely. But there was no trace of him. Apparently only I was the lucky one.

Mom closed the door behind her, and as I turned, I saw the letters neatly stack themselves and slide back into the drawer, which snapped shut with a bang.

“I don’t think you should read my letters anymore. I’m tired of your vulgar critiques.”

I spun to the window. He had returned. Or more likely, he had never left. “Vulgar? Who uses that word anymore?”

“Pardon me, if my proper 19th century English is beneath your crude American mutterings.”

“I don’t mutter and my butt is not so round.” I plunked down at my computer and pretended to busy myself online. Maybe he would get bored and leave.

“She was not a bitch.” His voice was low and soft, not with anger but with sorrow.

My fingers rested over the keyboard, and I stared down at them. “I’m sorry I called her that.” I spun the chair around to face him. His face may have been incorporeal now, but it was clear that he was very handsome when he was alive. His dark, dead eyes showed far more emotion than any live guys I knew. And he had had one of those great movie star square jaws.

“What happened to her? Actually a better question—what happened to you?” Suddenly I realized I had this cool opportunity to find out what it’s like to be a ghost.

Without actually seeing him move, Sebastian was sitting across from me on the foot of my bed. His face turned to the window for a minute. He stared out at the misty, gray sky, then he looked back at me. “We moved here from England when I was fourteen.”

“Ah, that would explain the hottie accent.”

His sheer forehead crinkled and he looked annoyed. “Hottie?”

I waved my hand. “Never mind. Continue.”

He shook his head at me. “My father had invested in a ship building venture near Chesapeake Bay, and the company was prospering. So we came here to Pelican Bay. My mother had died three years earlier, and my older sister had stayed behind in England with her betrothed. Sadly, my father died of heart failure soon after our arrival. My uncle came to live with me.”

Downstairs I could hear the twins arriving home with their obnoxiously loud voices and Mom yelling at them to take off their baseball cleats. “When did you meet Emily?”

Sebastian stopped and stared down at the ground. I wondered if he saw the same as I saw or if things were different through dead eyes. My brain overflowed with questions to ask him.

He lifted his head and smiled. “I was out for a swim in the ocean, and I heard a girl scream. It was a horrifying scream. I peered out over the waves certain that someone must be drowning or something equally mortifying. But I couldn’t see anything. Then I heard the scream again. It was coming from the beach. A young girl was having a tug-of war with a huge, brown dog that had its jaw clamped around the tip of her parasol. I dashed out of the water, pried the parasol from the dog’s teeth, and handed it back to her. As she took it from me, I looked into her face and the rest of the world melted away. She was the finest creature I’d ever seen.”

Apparently ghosts can day dream because, for a moment, this one had drifted off to another time. He closed his eyes as if he was trying to conjure a clear picture of Emily.

“I guess there really is love at first sight,” I said lamely.

He opened his eyes.  “Well, for me. But it took a while for Emily to love me. There were many men vying for her attention. Then one day she looked at me with those jewel colored eyes and told me she loved me and only me.”

“I hate to break the news to you but girls can change their minds quickly.” The words sort of shot out of my mouth, and suddenly, I understood why Dad used to scold me to think before I spoke. And I really needed to watch what I said to Mr. Sensitive sitting across from me. He shot across the room and perched angrily on my windowsill like an angry vulture perched on a tree branch.

“Emily loved me and only me. Back then love was real, not some superficial, pretend act so that two people can have a reason to fornicate.”

I pressed my hand to my mouth to suppress a giggle.

“What is so amusing?”

“Fornicate? You sound like my health teacher. Come to think of it, he looked like he could have been born about the same time as you.”

My stuffed animals flew off the bed and smacked into my dresser before plopping to the floor in a heap of polyester fur. “Since I have provided you with some entertainment for that silly, empty head of yours, I will be off.”

I stood and walked over to my critter collection. “Wait.” I picked up the rabbit and shoved it under my arm and pounded the hippo against the bear to get rid of dust and dog hair before arranging them back on my bed. “I won’t laugh anymore at anything you say.” I wanted him to stay and tell his story. And he seemed to need to tell it. “Please, I want to hear about real love. What does heartbreak feel like?” It suddenly sunk in like lead weights in my stomach; I had never been in love. Sebastian was right about the superficial part. I dated Blake just because he had a lifted truck and blue eyes. The more I thought about it, I realized I didn’t even like to kiss the guy.

Sebastian was at the bookcase. The drawer slid open and the letters floated out. The edges of the envelopes flipped as if an invisible thumb had run over them. “Heartbreak feels like unopened letters.”

Every time he wrote and received no reply, his despair must have grown. Yet he didn’t give up.

Sebastian hovered directly in front of me now. I hadn’t seen him move at all. His nearness made his image blur, yet instead of the usual chill around him, the air warmed. “If you want to know what heartbreak feels like, watch your mother some time when she does not realize you are looking at her. You’ll know then.”

“My mom? But she let my dad leave. She didn’t even try to stop him. And now he’s found someone else. She couldn’t have been too broken up about it.”

“Watch her.” He disappeared.

“Wait, Sebastian. You haven’t explained how you died.” No response. Damn and he was just about to get to the meaty part. The voices downstairs had quieted too, which meant the boys were doing homework and Mom was probably busy in the kitchen. I had no idea what he’d meant about Mom. She seemed extra sad for a long time after they’d decided to split up, but she was always resolute about Dad leaving. And how would a dead guy know anything about it?

The boys were downing glasses of milk, and Mom was putting away a bag of groceries as I stepped into the kitchen.

“What’s up?” I asked as if I’d just been upstairs studying.

Mom pulled her head out of the canned food cupboard and smiled at me. “I met someone down at the shop today.”

Now Mom was going to start dating too. Everything was getting weirder and weirder.

“His name is Moses Chandler, and he owns the stables on the other side of the cove.” She stacked two cartons of eggs in the refrigerator.

“That’s really exciting, Mom.”

“That’s not the exciting part, Zilly. Moses says he’s getting too old to work the horses. Something about arthritis in his hands.”

I doubted Mom had plans to take up with an old guy which could only mean one thing.

“He needs someone to work the horses for him.”

Bingo. “I don’t know, Mom. I can only imagine the broken down mares or unbroken ranch horses I guy with the name Moses would have.”

“You’re such a snob, Brazil. His wife used to compete in Grand Prix championships. She doesn’t ride anymore, but the horses still need to be worked.”

“Maybe.” This was sounding better and better. “It would be nice to ride again.”

“And it’s for pay.”

“I’ll do it.”

Mom folded the grocery bag and put it in the laundry room. “I wrote down the address. You can go see him tomorrow if you’re up to a walk along the beach. But you’ll have to take the boys along.” She walked over and put her arm around my shoulder. “I think riding horses again will do you a world of good.”

The poor woman still thought I was imagining ghosts. If she only knew the truth.

****

Tyler stumbled into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. There was a terrible frown on his face as he yanked out a chair and plopped down hard.

“What’s your problem?” I asked.

“Raymond is an idiot,” he grumbled. It was unusual to hear him speak that way about his other half. They both seemed to have eased into their new school without a hitch. If fact, we were already receiving a rash of phone calls with feminine giggles before the hang up.

Raymond came in next. His face was equally grumpy.

“Great. So now you’re both in a bad mood.” I poured some batter on the griddle.

“What? Do you think you’re the only person in this house that gets to be in a bad mood?” Raymond asked. I swung around. Tyler was trying to suppress a smile.

“Pretty much,” I answered. “So knock it off. Mom left a note and you guys are supposed to weed the yard. Then you’re walking with me to the stables so I can see about a job.”

They moaned simultaneously. I flipped the first pancake. It was slightly black. “That one is for Raymond,” Tyler called. Raymond elbowed him hard.

“Enough. In a minute I’m going to let you make your own damn pancakes.”

I decided to join the boys in weeding since between them throwing dirt clods at each other and having a contest to see who could jump the furthest from a running start off the porch, I saw little actual weed removal. Plus the sunshine outside seemed more inviting than the brooding spirits inside, even though, my particular brooding spirit had not materialized all morning. I guess when you have eternity in front of you, sulking for several days straight isn’t that big of a stretch.

On the Mount Stables was more rundown than I’d expected. The word rustic would be the nice way to describe it. It looked nothing like the pristine, prefabricated tan and forest green barns at Oak Hill. The pathways to the barn back in Boston were neatly groomed decomposed granite with symmetrically placed boxwood edges running along either side. This place was an uneven pattern of redwood stalls and pipe corrals. Giant shade trees surrounded the entire place, completely blocking the view of the road behind it. Some of the horses had a great ocean view. These horses looked happier than the animals stuck in the sterile environment at Oak Hill.

The twins stopped at a round pen where a huge, sorrel gelding was turned out. I joined them. The horse came to me immediately and brought with him the warm familiar scent of pine shavings and grass, a smell I’d always treasured. The animal made it immediately obvious that he would stand perfectly still all day for a hearty neck scratching.

“That’s Legend,” a man’s voice said from behind me.

I turned. It was an older man with shaggy gray hair that reached his collar. He was wearing a floppy brown felt hat that might have looked silly on someone else, but it was perfect on him. The soft wrinkles of his face showed a man who had smiled a lot in his life, a man who had seen good days and bad and had weathered them all with an easy going shrug.

Legend nudged my hand with his nuzzle reminding me that his scratching session had not ended. I reached up and stood on tiptoes to rub his forehead. “He must be seventeen hands.”

“Seventeen-one. Use to jump five feet from a standstill. Bowed a tendon once and was never the same.” The man walked closer and put out his hand. I shook it. His fingers were callused from work. “I’m Moses,” he said with a kind smile.

“I guess that explains the name of the barn,” I said. “This is Tyler and Raymond. I’m Brazil. And please don’t ask me why.”

“Tell you what, you don’t ask me to recite the Ten Commandments, and I won’t ask you about South America.”

I nodded. “Deal.”  I looked around. “How many horses do you have boarding here?”

“At the moment, twenty four. Two are my own. Legend here and the Warmblood over there is my wife’s horse, Dusty. He has some long, ridiculous show name that I can never remember, so I just call him Dusty on account that he kicks up a helluva lot of it when he’s in the arena.”

In a nicely kept stall across from the riding arena stood a chestnut Warmblood who looked like he’d seen some titles in his day. “He was my wife’s favorite horse. You could light a firecracker under his butt and nothing would spook him. Steady as rain in the rainforest.”

“That’s the best kind of horse,” I said.

“Been around horses long?”

“Since I was seven. My mom used to say they were in my blood.”

Moses nodded. He didn’t need to say a word. It was obvious they were in his blood too.

“You’re mom said you might be interested in a part time job. Most of the owners only come out on the weekend. They pay me to lunge and groom during the week.” He lifted his hands and I noticed, for the first time, his crooked fingers. “Arthritis is slowing me down these days. Hardly ever ride anymore. My wife neither. Our two horses need to be ridden. I’ll pay eight bucks an hour.”

I glanced around. Some of the horses were wandering out of their stalls waiting for dinner. Legend snorted and sprayed moisture on the back of my neck. I laughed. It was all so familiar and I felt more solid just being around horses again. I stuck out my hand. “I accept.”

By the time Mom got off work, the weeds in the yard still flourished, no see-through visitors had appeared, and Tyler and Raymond were speaking again. “How’d everything go?” Mom asked. “I was surprised no one called me even once.”

“I got the job at the stables.”

“Terrific. And how were the boys?”

“The brats were both in bad moods today. They were pissed at each other about something.”

“I’m not surprised,” Mom gave each of her four-legged fans a hug.

I put the last washed dish in the rack. “You knew they were mad at other?” I dried my hands and noticed Mom was giving me a look that bordered on an eye roll.

“Brazil, you may find this hard to believe, but your father’s leaving has been hard for all of us. Not only you.”

“What the hell did I do?” I asked incredulously. “You’re pissed at me because the boys were in a bad mood? You’re the one that let Dad leave.” It was another stupid blurting of words that I seemed to be highly skilled at.

Mom flopped onto a chair and restacked the napkins in the holder. Weariness washed the color from her face. “Is that what you think? You think I let him leave? I’ve got news for you, kid, your father wanted to leave. He walked out on his hysterical teenage daughter without looking back. Take him off of the fucking pedestal, Brazil. He’s not as wonderful as you imagine.” She was on the edge of screaming, but it didn’t make me feel better. My mom was the type of person who only screamed if something scared her. Like when Darcy ran after a turned out horse and nearly got his head kicked in. Or when Carrington spooked at a garbage bag and threw me over the arena fence. As I’d hit that point of no return when a rider knows she’s about to eat dirt, all I could think of was this was going to hurt and it’s going to scare the crap out of Mom. When I came too after the fall, Mom’s deathly white face was hanging over mine.

Now we faced each other in the kitchen, only it was sadness not fear that paled her skin. I’d thought that if she showed some anger it would make me feel better. But this was real anger and it didn’t help. My throat tightened and tears were clinging to my bottom lashes. My usual sharp tongue had retreated.

Mom swept around once with her arm. “You don’t actually think that I love being in this decrepit, old house. I gave up friends too, Brazil.” Her voice softened. A flaring of my mom’s temper was just that, a momentary warning flash. “I’m sorry I spoke so harshly about your father. I never want to harm your opinion of him. I only need you to realize that this was not all my fault.”

I stared at the ground. All I could think was that she didn’t seem to try hard enough to turn things back around. As their once good marriage started to disintegrate before our eyes, it didn’t seem like Mom put in any effort to save it.

“I’m taking Darcy for a walk before I make dinner. Want to come with me?” she asked as she reached for the leash on the hook by the door. Darcy pounced on her, nearly knocking her out onto the back stoop.

“I think I’ll stay here.” Deep down I knew I should’ve gone. I knew Mom was lonely these days, and I hadn’t been much of a friend, the opposite in fact. I was still too busy trying to sort the whole divorce thing out, and I especially didn’t know how to talk to her about it.

I absently began rinsing clean cups in the sink as Mom walked to the laundry room to put on her beach shoes. I snuck a peek at her while she was tying her laces, and it was there. What Sebastian had told me was there. Her face stretched thin and long, and her mouth tightened in a grim line as if it were pressed together to hold back some incredible pain, the pain of a broken heart. Why had I not seen it before? My own cloud of distress had been too thick to see through. I was too busy with my own heartache from losing dad. But I had not really lost him. He was still my dad even if I rarely saw him. It was different for Mom. She had really lost him.

Chapter 10

I trudged up to my room not sure whether I was feeling extra sad for Mom or feeling like a self-centered boob. My computer beckoned me and I slouched in front of it staring at my vague reflection in the sleeping, black screen. As I reached for the mouse, I noticed a glimmer of light floating above my head in the wavy image on the glass. It faded instantly. My head twisted around. “Sebastian?” No answer. He was probably sick of me too.

I wiggled the mouse and my desktop emerged from the black screen.

Brandy was online. <Yo.> I typed.

<Hey! You should have been at the barn. Nearly peed my breeches.>

<What happened?>

<Carrington balked at a jump and Bridget flew off. She was howling.>

<She didn’t get hurt, did she?> I typed the phrase and then stared at it. It was weird coming from my fingers.

<She’s fine. Just bruised her rich bitch pride.>

<Good for my pony. He must hate her.>

Jenny’s screen popped up. <I dumped Blake.>

<That lifted truck and the blue eyes can only get you so far.> I typed back.

Her message popped back. <He’s a jerk with pudding for brains.>

We were talking like old friends. I guess time was all I needed to get over it. Especially since I had no feelings for Blake.

Jen wrote again. <Meet any cute guys yet?>

<Yep. One alive and one dead.> I typed in return. That ought to freak her out a bit.

<WHAT?>

I smiled. What the heck. It’s not like she’d believe me anyhow. <There is a very sexy ghost living in my bedroom.>

<LOL> she wrote back.

“What is this, LOL?” Sebastian’s voice drifted over my shoulder, and it hardly fazed me. I was getting used to him popping in.

“LOL means laugh out loud.”

“So you’re friend, pinka--pinkalicious laughed out loud at your message?”

I signed off. “She probably didn’t physically laugh. It just means she thought my message was funny.” I peered up over my shoulder but he was across the room sitting on my dresser. His voice had sounded so close, and somehow he had read my message.  He must have been leaning over me. His light speed movements were unsettling.

“That’s absurd. And sexy is a good thing, right?”

Heat rose in my cheeks. “That was a typo. I’d meant to write a nosy ghost.”

“I’m not nosy. I have better things to do than read the nonsense messages you send your childish friends.”

“Better things to do? What could you possibly have to do?” I laughed. “Do you write yourself a checklist of things to do each morning? Six o’clock float through wall, seven o’clock drift around room, eight o’clock vanish into--”

“Enough. As you can see I’m not lol-ing at what you perceive as charm.” He glanced down at the pile of folded laundry on the top of my dresser. I knew I should’ve put it away. My lacy green bra floated up. “This is interesting.”

I stomped over and snatched it out of mid air. As my hand went through his, a rush of cold air flowed straight through the palm of my hand, cooling the blood and bones beneath. But it was not painful like when your hand has made too many snowballs with soaked gloves. It was more like the soothing feeling of sucking on a wintergreen mint. I stomped back to my chair.

Mom’s voice floated up to my window. I wondered whom she could be talking to, a neighbor or, more likely, her pet crew.

“I saw it today,” I said still facing my computer away from Sebastian. “She was tying her shoes, and she looked incredibly sad. Not sure why I hadn’t seen it before.”

“Face it. You are rather self-absorbed.”

“Thanks.” I spun around on my chair. He was floating near the window ledge staring down at the beach. “Sebastian, how did you die? Did you commit suicide over Emily?”

His image disappeared and reappeared on the foot of my bed. It was bizarre being so close to him. The slightest fragrance of almond surrounded him. That cool feeling of wintergreen made the hairs on my arm stand straight up as if he was surrounded by an icy cloud of static electricity. And, somehow, the closer he got, the more blurry his features became. If we were to stand nose to nose, he would surely vaporize into a misty cloud, and his image would be completely obliterated.

“I don’t really know how I died,” he said. There was a grim tone in his voice as if he had gone to some sinister place in his mind. “The last thing I remember is the frigid salt water washing over me. I had always been a good swimmer, but I could not fight the tide.”

“So you drowned accidentally because of a riptide? Even the best swimmers can die in strong current.”

He shook his head and shot up from the bed and back to the window. “It was not the tide. I could not fight the current because of the illness.”

“Illness?’

“The headaches had become unbearable. They had plagued me for a month.” He fell silent and stared down at the ocean below. I could see my own reflection in the window through the white haze of his shirt.

“You were sick? With what? Why would you go in the water if you were sick?”

Now he vanished and reappeared on my dresser amongst my clean underwear. I had not seen him move, but suddenly he seemed agitated, and I nervously wondered if I should change the subject. The last thing I needed was my computer or chair flung across the room.

“I don’t remember walking to the water but I was so confused all the time. My uncle had called the doctor, but the man was a buffoon. He could not find the cause of my illness. My health grew worse each day. I didn’t care though. My Emily had abandoned me and I had no will to live. I let it, whatever it was, consume me. I guess, eventually, I was in such a wretched state, I wandered into the sea and drowned. By that point, my entire life had become a blur, a horrendously ugly blur.”

“I know medicine back then wasn’t like today, but it seems someone must have been able to help you. If only your uncle had taken you to a better doctor.”

He laughed but it was not out of fun. It was a sound edged with sarcasm, disgust. “My uncle would never have tried that hard to help me. He was an abusive monster who craved only one thing--my trust fund. And with me dead, it fell right into his greedy hands.”

I stared at him, speechless. The emotions in his face were fluid. Every movement of air brought a change in expression from sadness, to anger, to the innocence of youth. He had been young when he died, incredibly young. That youth was now immortalized in his face, a face which would never droop into soft wrinkles and lines.

“I’m sorry. You had a terrible life.” Ones. Sebastian had lived with a constant flow of days that were ones. Miserable days etched forever in his mind. Even in death. “I want to help you.” I blurted it out in my usual manner of speaking before thinking. But after some thought, I repeated it. “How can I help you?”

“Not knowing if Emily truly loved me has left me in an eternity of agony.”

“But there is no way to know now.”

He swept across the room to the antique chest. “Emily kept a diary. She hid it under some floor boards in her house. If I just knew what was going through her head, whether or not she had still loved me.”

“Where’s the diary now?”

“Not sure. She left town rather abruptly, so it may still be in the house where she lived, a house several blocks from here.”

I sat up confidently even though I had no idea how to retrieve a hidden diary from a complete stranger’s house without getting arrested. “Well then, I’ll have to make a plan to get into the house.”

Sebastian’s image tightened for a moment making him look almost solid enough to touch, then it wavered again. “I don’t know. It’s risky, and the diary may not be there after all these years.”

“Let me try.” I sat at the computer with one of the unopened letters. “I’ll Google the address. Maybe I can find the name of the people who live there now.”

“The Warners live there.”

I glanced up from my computer. “Is there some kind of ghost network that lets you know who lives where?”

“Ghost network? You are the strangest girl, Brazil. I used that big book with the yellow and white pages. A phone book is what they call it, I think.” His features relaxed. This new turn in the conversation seemed to draw him away from the dark spots dotting his memories.

I squinted up at his image. He was serious. “Do you mean to tell me you searched that entire phone book until you found the address? And all the way until you got to the W’s, no less.”

He floated above my bed now. “I have a bit of time on my hands.”

I smiled. “Did my mom’s grandpa know you were here, in the house?”

“I think he felt my presence occasionally, but you are the first person I’ve appeared before and spoken to.”

“Lucky me.”

He swished across the room leaving a cool trail of mist behind like a comet’s tail. He landed in his vulture imitation, perched on my windowsill. “I’m sorry if my presence is a nuisance.”

“You’re not a nuisance. . . most of the time, but it is a little hard getting used to the idea of having you burst in and out of my life. So do you know anything about the Warners?”

“I’m afraid the phone book and one phone call were about the limits of my sleuthing powers. I called one time but didn’t speak, of course. At the time a teenage boy or young man  answered. So I think there may be a boy at your school. It’s a small town. There is only one high school.”

I nodded. “I’m sure I can figure out if there is a Warner at the school. I’ll see what I can do. Maybe I can charm the guy into falling in love with me so he invites me over.” I smiled but my ghost did not return the grin.

“You don’t think I can attract a boy, do you? I know you think I look like a rabbit.”

“A rabbit with the mouth of a dock worker.” He smiled faintly or at least it looked like he had.  Sometimes his expressions were too fluid to know for sure.

I crossed my arms over my chest, turned away from him, and walked toward the window. His words had actually hurt. “Maybe you got everything you deserved.”

For the first time, I sensed that he had moved. He was right behind me. A shiver vibrated my body and that chilling static electricity surrounded me. “You are incredible, Brazil. Surely, you must know that. It’s why I chose you.” His words lingered in the charged air and every hair on my body stood at attention.

The sound of Mom’s distinctive, lyrical laugh floated up from the beach below. It dissipated the energy surrounding me. I twisted around, but Sebastian was gone.

My gaze shot back down to the beach. Mom was leaning against our ramshackle fence with her back to the house. A stick went flying past her on the beach. Darcy raced after it. Who was on the other end of the stick? “Dad!”

I flew down the steep steps at a dangerous pace and pushed through the back screen door.

Mom stood and turned as she heard the back door slam. “Brazil, we have a visitor.”

This time Darcy returned with the stick and the stick thrower. It was Seth.

“Hey,” I said trying to hide the disappointment in my face. My breathing slowed and I smiled. Seth was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. Simple outfit but it looked exceptionally good on him.

“Were you out beachcombing or looking for really big dogs to play catch with?” I asked.

“I’m going to take this salt-water soaked monster up to the house,” Mom said as she headed past me. “He’s cute,” she whispered. She glanced over her shoulder. “You can stay for dinner if you like, Seth. I’m making burgers.” With the long piece of driftwood in her mouth,

Darcy lumbered behind Mom at first then stopped to look at Seth once more. The dog was actually considering not following my mom.

“You’ve been replaced, Mom.”

Mom stopped then spun around and walked confidently to the house. Darcy raced after her.

“Cool mom,” Seth said. “Cool dog, too.”

I shrugged. “Cool some of the time.”

“Who, the mom or the dog?” he asked with that dangerous smile.

“Both I guess.”

“I don’t get to see my mom that much, but when I do, she’s always awesome.” He sat on the sand covered steps that led from our yard to the beach.

I plopped down next to him. “Are your parents divorced too?”

“No. We all live in the same house. My mom works the graveyard shift at a clinic, so she sleeps during the day.”

“I guess that doesn’t help the whole vampire rumor thing, does it?”

He smiled and kicked flat a pile of sand that had obviously been some kid’s castle earlier that day. “Hank and his family have sand for brains.”

“I have to say he is completely revolting. I can’t imagine any girl ever liking him.”

“You’d be surprised. But he usually goes after the freshmen,” he looked pointedly at me, “or the new meat. Anyone who hasn’t figured out yet that he’s an ass.” Again he looked at me. “Of course, it didn’t take you long.”

“That’s because I’m not a freshman.” I thought back to my inane crush on Blake and how much time I’d wasted pining over him. “I guess you could say I’m a seasoned veteran. I know a jerk when I see one.” We trudged through the deep, uneven sand for a while before my curiosity got the best of me. “Where’s Gina?” My question was badly timed since I’d just been bragging about my jerk radar.

We stopped and faced the waves. They were rolling in rapidly. Seth dug a hole in the sand with the heel of his shoe. “I left my Siamese twin at her own house today. To tell you the truth, I needed a break from her.” He picked up a rock and hurled it toward the water. “I decided to come see you, but I have to say, you seemed disappointed to see me.”

I would never make a good politician or poker player. My facial expressions always betrayed me. “It wasn’t disappointment in seeing you. It was disappointment in not seeing my dad. I heard my mom laugh and thought he’d come to visit.”

He tucked his long black hair behind his ears and nodded. “So have you seen any ghosts yet?” He glanced back at the house.

His question caught me off guard at first, almost as if he’d been reading my thoughts. I contemplated telling him yes for a moment but that idea faded quickly. “Oh, so that’s why you showed up here. You wanted to see our resident ghouls.”

He threw his head back and laughed. The sound of it was incredibly sexy. He stopped and glanced down at me from under long, black lashes. “Well, has blood dripped down the stairs yet or anything good like that?” There was the slightest indentation on his right cheek that looked like a very shallow dimple.

“You sound exactly like my brothers. Only Raymond was sure the blood would drip from the walls.” I got up and trudged toward the water. Seth followed. “No blood yet.”

“Too bad.” He reached down and picked up a half buried shell. It was one of those shells that looked beautiful and complete, but when you plucked it out of the sand, you realized the other half was not buried, it was never there in the first place. He threw the broken shell into the waves.

The cold water hit my bare feet, and I stepped back directly on Seth’s shoe. His hand grabbed me as I tipped sideways, but it was too late. He held my arm as we both tumbled into the wet sand.

For a silent, intense moment, we both stared at each other. Then the tide returned. I screamed, and we shot to our feet as the frothy water surrounded our legs.

He stared down at his half soaked jeans then looked up at me. We laughed. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up to drier land. We stopped and faced each other, but we didn’t move closer. He had an amazing face even without the smile. I definitely would have let him kiss me, but he had his cute little girlfriend, and Seth didn’t seem like the type who would cheat. It’s probably one of the things that attracted me to him, but this time, I would have preferred the kiss.

For a second his face moved closer to mine and my lips parted in anticipation. Then he drew back and stared down at his feet. “I’ll have to drive home barefoot.” He bent over to take off his wet shoes.

“That’s what you get for strolling on the beach in your shoes and socks.” My voice cracked slightly because I was still reeling about the possibility of being kissed by him.

He slammed the bottoms of his shoes together and clumps of wet sand fell out. “I am kind of a geek, I guess.”

If this is what geeks had become then they had a whole new definition. “I think the guy was murdered.” I don’t know why I said it, but since Sebastian had told me his story, it weighed heavily on my mind. Something evil happened in this house a hundred years ago, and it had nothing to do with ghosts. “I found some of his letters.”

Seth’s eyes widened. “Are you talking about the guy who went crazy in there? My great grandfather used to tell my grandfather stories. He said it was some rich kid. His uncle had come to town and became very powerful. He became mayor at one point. Horrible guy, supposedly. Used to beat the kid so badly, people wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time.”

His last words made my throat ache. I blinked into the wind hoping the cold air would evaporate the tears that were forming on my lashes. “How come nobody stopped the uncle?” My words were barely audible.

Seth’s two fingers pulled my chin around to face him. He pushed a strand of bangs off my forehead. “Are you alright?”

I smiled weakly. He dropped his fingers, but I could still feel his touch on my skin.

“Back then, kids got beaten and nobody did anything about it. My dad said the principal at his school used to have a paddle with holes hanging in his office for punishment. That would’ve sucked.”

I nodded. “My dad smacked me once on the butt, not even hard, but I think he was about to throw up after he did it.” I looked out at the water, the same water where Sebastian drowned a century earlier. “You probably think I’m crazy for making up theories about the guy’s death.”

Seth raised his fingers again and brushed them along my cheek turning my knees to Jello. I turned to look at him, which did not help my unstable legs.

“Crazy was the furthest thing from my mind,” he said quietly.

That was all it took. A brush on my cheek and that sizzling brown stare and I was hooked. Now I wanted that kiss more than anything. My head was swirling with emotions. Was he just teasing me or was he interested? I didn’t know whether to feel giddy or pissed.

We walked back toward the house with the sound of the crashing tide and screeching seagulls behind us. This part of the beach rarely had people. It would be an easy stretch of beach to drown in or be drowned in with no one to witness. Goosebumps crept up my spine. I don’t know why my mind had gone to murder but it had. Now I was thinking about it a lot. Poor Sebastian. An abusive uncle and a stout trust fund, it was a perfect scenario.

“Hey, I was wondering,” Seth’s voice broke the silence. I was glad to leave the icky thoughts running through my head. “You’re probably busy tonight, but my band is playing at the coffee house. Do you want to come?”

Now my mind switched to confusion. Was he asking me out? Where would his clingy girlfriend be? “Of course my social calendar is rather tight, but I think I can squeeze in an evening at the coffee house. I’ll see if I can borrow the car.”

“I’ll pick you up.”

Mom called out the back door. “Dinner!”

Seth waved to her. “Thanks for the invite, but I need to get home.” He turned back to me. “So what page of your mental catalogue does the guy who lived here fall under?” Seth asked with his D for Dangerous smile.

“You know I hadn’t given it much thought.” I tapped my chin. “T for Tortured, I suppose.”

“And what about me? I’m almost afraid to ask after the tongue beating you gave Hank.”

“You are definitely on the M page,” I said. I decided it best not to mention his other entries on the D and S pages.

“M?” he asked.

“Mostly a mystery.” I turned to head inside.

“I can live with that,” he said. “Hey, Brazil!”

When I looked back the wind was whipping at his long black hair. He would definitely look tasty in a top hat. “Eight-thirty?”

I nodded and headed toward the house, the haunted house. With two dark dormers and the wide porch, it almost looked like it had a face as it towered out over the beach in the fading sunlight. I picked up my pace. It was an unusual day so far. It had started as a five, then after the kitchen scene with Mom, it sunk to a two. Now it was back up to a very secure seven. If he had kissed me, it might have reached nine. I thought about his finger tracing my cheek. Actually, a kiss would definitely have made it a ten.

Chapter 11

As I stood in my room rubbing my hair with a towel, I stared at the faded brown picture of Sebastian I’d shoved beneath the frame of my mirror. He hadn’t appeared since I ran down to the beach, but my mind was swirling with images of both Sebastian and Seth. I’d always been good at reading people, or at least that’s what I’d told myself. But all this time, I’d convinced myself that Mom was cold, almost indifferent about Dad leaving. Now I was sure that wasn’t true. Still, why hadn’t she tried harder to stop him? They’d always seemed so in love, then like a puff of smoke, it was all gone. How did that happen? Then there was the extreme opposite--Sebastian. A century had not broken the bond he felt with Emily. Even through the abuse he endured at the hands of his uncle, he’d never stopped thinking of her.

I threw the towel over my chair, reached for the stack of letters, and opened the fourth one. A nervous flutter erupted in my stomach worried about what it might say. A vine of black, thorny roses snaked across the top of the brittle parchment. They were intricate and precise and tragic.

September 14, 1880

Dearest,

I know roses are your favorite. These are black like my heart.

I write knowing your blue eyes will never read my words. And yet I write to keep my life from becoming a mute, tedious tragedy.

Uncle keeps a vigilant watch on me. A miserable wretch, whom upon my 18th year, shall be thrown into the foggy darkness. Only then can I sink into the paralyzing chill of my aloneness.

Bitter, bleak winds come early this year leaving long footprints on the white sand. My soul longs to leave the fetid atmosphere of this house and travel with the prevailing breeze. To somewhere far from here, far from the memory of your lush lips and heady fragrance.

Sebastian

I read it three times and pictured him with his paint brush and black paint, his face twisted from the pain in his head as he poured his heartbreak out onto paper knowing full well that his words would never be read. I refolded the letter, determined, now more than ever, to find out who this Warner kid was. The thought occurred to me that I didn’t know Seth’s last name but the odds of him being Warner were slim. My luck was never that great. Of course having to flirt with some other guy might ruin my chances with Seth completely, but then he did have a girlfriend. Maybe watching me cuddle up with another guy would make him jealous enough to leave petite, cute Gina. Now I was being delusional.

My mom poked her head in the room. “I think Seth just pulled up.”

“He’s early.” I grabbed my jeans and struggled to pull them up over my damp legs.

The dogs raced downstairs barking like a pack of wild dogs. I hurried over to my mirror and used my fingers to comb my hair. “Tell him I’ll be down in a second.” My sandals were nowhere to be seen. I checked under the bed, in the closet, and under my mound of dirty clothes. They were gone.

“Looking for these?” My sandals were floating in front of Sebastian who was on his usual perch in front of the window. He had that glimmer of mischievousness I’d noticed from his picture. I plodded to my shoes and lunged for them, but he swept them higher and out of my reach.

“I’m late.” I jumped for them, but he had the distinct advantage that only a floating spirit could have. “What are you doing?”

“Are you going out with a boy?” He sounded slightly annoyed.

“What are you, my father?” I asked. “And it’s not a date. I’m going to hear his band at the coffee house. I’m pretty sure I won’t be coming home with an engagement ring or anything like that.”

“Will he kiss you?” The sandals coasted down to my reach.

I snatched them out of the air and plunked down on the end of my bed to slide them on. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t know if he’ll kiss me.” I walked quickly to the door and looked back. “I hope he does though.” I had to scoot forward quickly as the door slammed shut behind me.

Mom had sat Seth down at the kitchen table with a can of soda. They were talking when I walked in. Seth looked up and his brown eyes looked extra dreamy in the kitchen light.

“Sorry, I took so long. I couldn’t reach--find my sandals.

Seth had a guitar case and an amplifier in the back of his car. I climbed into the front seat, Gina’s seat. “So what kind of music do you play?”

“Mostly Dylan type stuff.”

“Who else plays in your band?” Wasn’t I the exciting conversationalist? I hadn’t been so nervous with a guy since--. Actually I don’t remember ever being nervous with one, which could only mean one thing. I finally found a guy I really liked. And not just because he was so friggin cute either.

“A couple of guys I’ve known since junior high.”

“I take it Hank is not one of them.”

He laughed. “That one came out of nowhere. Believe it or not, we were friends in elementary school. Then his mom discovered that my family and I didn’t go to church, and we kept weird hours. She concluded we were part of a satanic cult, so she pulled the plug on our friendship.” He shook his head wistfully. “I owe that woman my life.”

“I cannot imagine that you two ever had anything in common.” I said.

“We didn’t. But I don’t think that really matters in elementary school. Anyway, the guy has despised me ever since.”

“I’m surprised you can remain so cool around him when he’s being such an ass to you.”

“Everything that comes out of his head is so stupid and ignorant, he’s not worth getting angry at. He’s meaningless as far as I’m concerned. I noticed you took care of him pretty well. He’s stopped hitting on you.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”  I looked at him. “Is Gina coming tonight?” It seemed like a logical question. I mean, after all, she was his clingy girlfriend.

He shrugged. “Don’t know.”

It was hard to know if that meant he didn’t care if she came or if he really didn’t know. Or both.

“My last name is Parkin,” I blurted like a lost little kid telling a policeman. I was hoping he would get the hint. The day had become a seven when he asked me to the coffee shop. If his name was Warner, it could easily move to eight or even a nine.

“Parkin, huh? Since we’re exchanging information, mine’s Dallas.”

Crap. Why couldn’t it be Warner? Although Seth Dallas was a pretty cool name. “Do you happen to know a guy with the last name Warner?”

His face turned and he stared at me a few seconds before turning his eyes to the road. “Yeah,” he said suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, really. Do you sing Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door?” That’s my favorite.” I decided to switch the subject quickly because my question about this Warner guy seemed to bother him.

“I’ll sing it tonight.” We drove the rest of the way in silence, and I wasn’t sure why my question had upset him. But ten minutes into his song set, I discovered the reason.

The coffee house was crowded with kids from school and college looking people too. There was a tiny stage on the side of the shop, not really a stage but a square of fake wood flooring glued down over the tiles. Two guys wearing t-shirts and jeans like Seth were already setting up a keyboard and drums. Seth found me a place to sit and bought me a decaf latte. The last thing I need was caffeine keeping me awake all night thinking about the weirdness of my life.

Seth played guitar and harmonica well, but his singing made me melt in to a frothy puddle. I was not the only one. Half the girls in the place sat with elbows propped on tables, chins perched in palms, and stars floating in their eyes as he sang Lay Lady Lay. I tried to smile casually back at him twice when he scanned the crowd and looked at me, but inside my heart was doing flip-flops.

I’m such an idiot. I’m falling hard for a guy who had a girlfriend, a guy who I only met earlier this week, a guy who I knew little about except that he had an unbelievable smile, dreamy eyes and a great voice.  After that little attribute list, no wonder I was falling for him.

Loud voices shattered the mood of his song. Hank and some other primitives lumbered into the coffee shop. While everyone else was politely listening to and admiring the great music, the ape and his brood were speaking loudly so that everyone would notice them. The only attention they were getting was an air assault of dirty looks. Seth’s eyes flitted toward the brainless thugs, but he never missed a beat or a lyric.

I scooted down in my seat and hid behind my mug of coffee, but Hank spotted me instantly. Unfortunately there were several empty seats next to me at the counter height table. He walked toward me with all the grace of a thousand pound gorilla.

“Isn’t that cute,” Hank said as he pulled up a chair. “You’ve come to watch your sweetie sing.”

Seth kept singing but his gaze was locked on our table. Two of Hank’s equally square-headed friends joined him. One of them smacked him on the shoulder and leered at me. “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Warner?”

I had to grab the table edge to keep myself upright on the stool. Not him. Anyone but him. Anyone. I could not possibly help Sebastian if it meant having to flirt with Hank. Sebastian’s last letter floated through my head and the vision of him in agony as he wrote it. How could I not help him? His life had been a nightmare, and he still could not be at peace, even in death. I had to help him.

“Let me see, Tenderloin, isn’t it?” Hank’s thin lipped sneer made me want to throw my hot coffee in his face. How was I going to be able to stomach this? I smiled weakly pretending to be amused, but truthfully, I was swallowing back the bitter taste rising in my throat.

Hank glanced at the door.  “Shit, this is getting good. Here comes Dracula’s punk-ass girlfriend.”

Gina strolled into the café with the Mohawk duo. She was wearing a skin-tight green dress and enough mascara to keep Max Factor in limos for a year.

Hank leaned his inflated head next to mine. “I love chick fights.” He smelled like pot and stale beer. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes shut. Please, anyone but him.

Gina scooted into a chair and table in front of the tiny stage. Seth glanced down at her but saved his smile. I was searching desperately for another place to sit. At this point, it was standing room only and even that was scarce. I spotted a vacancy on the wall between the restrooms. The day’s rating was quickly sinking to a two. Plucking up my mug, I dashed for the empty space.

“Where you goin’ sweetheart?” Hank called to my back. Seth was singing Knocking on Heaven’s Door, and the idiot’s voice interrupted the music. I pressed against the cold plaster of the wall and glanced at the stage. “Don’t be like that, Tenderloin!”

Seth held up his hand and the band stopped. They stared at Hank and his friends. Then the entire audience turned around to shoot them a collective scowl. The jerks looked embarrassed.

Hank stood, obviously hoping his hulking physique would scare off some of the angry stares. “What the fuck are you all looking at?”

The patrons stayed brave and steadfast behind their steaming mugs of mocha and caramel cappuccinos. Hank had wandered into the wrong place. He kicked his chair and it toppled backward with a crash. The other goofballs followed their leader in disgrace out of the shop. Seth’s band started up again.

As I watched the whole event, I could not suppress a smile. Suddenly, I felt someone staring at me from across the room. It was Gina. She usually wore this sort of dramatically sweet look on her small face, but at the moment, she appeared tense. I smiled at her, but there was no smile in return. She ripped her gaze from me and returned her attention to Seth. I seriously contemplated calling my mom to pick me up. Somehow I did not figure that crawling into Seth’s car for a ride home was going to sit well with Gina.

Now the Mohawk twins were trying to be inconspicuous as they twisted casually in their chairs to see me. A black and pink row of spikes on one’s head made fading into the crowd a bit difficult. It was almost laughable. Here I was bracing myself against a wall, where I had the unfortunate luxury of breathing in whiffs of bathroom air from both sides, and Sid Vicious wannabes were shooting surreptitious glances at me through the crowd. I flipped open my cell phone and pressed one for Mom.

“Are you O.K, Brazil?” Mom asked anxiously.

“I’m fine. I know it’s late, Mom, but could you come pick me up at the coffee house on Benson Ave?”

“I’ll be right there, but stay inside until I get there.” Mom was a super-duper worrywart. But since I had friends whose moms never seemed to give a damn where they were, I decided I would gladly have the opposite side of the concerned mom spectrum.

After a few minutes, Seth and his band stopped for a break. He jumped off the stage and stopped at Gina’s table. It was hard to read his expression but overjoyed was not a word that came to mind. I saw some headlights that looked like Mom’s pull into the parking lot. As I scooted through the maze of tables and chairs, I waved to Seth. He seemed puzzled at first, but then he gave me a half smile and waved back. Even his half smile was to die for.

My mom was good about respecting my privacy. She trusted me for the most part and usually tried not to pry unless she thought it was necessary. “You alright?” she asked. Her face looked freshly washed as if she was already headed to bed.

“Seth’s girlfriend showed up unexpectedly. I thought it would be better if I found my own way home.”

“He has a girlfriend? Too bad. He’s cute and so nice.”

I shrugged and switched the radio to my station. “Story of my life.”

By the time I’d washed off my make-up and brushed my teeth, my head was hurting with the memory of the night. I’d momentarily convinced myself that I had a chance with Seth, but Gina had tight reins on him and I didn’t feel like getting into the middle of that. Something told me she could be a hostile bitch if someone went after Seth. Now I had told Sebastian I would help him, but on the drive home, I’d convinced myself there was no way in hell I could cozy up to Hank.

I dove under my covers hoping ridiculously that Sebastian hadn’t realized I was home yet. I didn’t feel like talking to him tonight. I still had to work up the courage to tell him that I was a selfish chicken shit.

From the foot of my bed, I grabbed the stuffed hippopotamus Dad had given me on my tenth birthday and hugged it to me. Moonlight filtered through my window panes, and the entire room was cast in long shadows. Sebastian was there sitting on my computer desk reading his own letter.

“I remember painting these black roses. The pain in my head that day had been overwhelming, as if someone had driven a railroad stake through my skull.”

I clutched the hippo tighter. It smelled faintly of dust and menthol. The toy had always comforted me when I was sick in bed and Mom had rubbed that greasy stuff on my chest. “I- I don’t think I can help you, Sebastian.” The stillness in the house muffled the sound of my voice. “Warner is a horrible puke of a guy. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

The letter floated to the ground like a leaf from a tree. “I understand. Perhaps it’s better that I don’t know anyhow. What if Emily had truly not loved me anymore? I don’t think I could bear knowing that.”

I sat up but held tightly to the hippo. “She loved you, Sebastian. How could she not? What girl does not dream about having a guy hopelessly in love with her?”

“I was not good enough for her. I didn’t deserve her.”

“Baloney.” Suddenly I was playing psychologist to a ghost. “She didn’t deserve you.”

My mom poked her head in. Sebastian faded out of view. “I thought I heard you talking to someone?”

“I was on the phone to Jenny,” I lied.

She nodded. “I’m glad you two are talking again.” The door closed and Sebastian reappeared in front of it.

“I’m going to find that diary and prove to you she loved you,” I whispered so Mom wouldn’t hear. I don’t know if my sudden resolve was to help Sebastian or to prove to myself that true love really did exist, but I was going to swallow back the puke that kept oozing into my throat and flirt with Hank.

Chapter 12

I chose a low-cut, pink tank top and skinny jeans for my Operation get Emily’s Diary scheme. My mind had played and replayed scenarios the rest of the weekend. I would smile and be nice to Hank, all the while trying not to throw up my breakfast on his shoes. I just needed one invitation to his house. Sebastian had told me about the loose floor board in the closet beneath the stairs where Emily had hidden her diary. Of course if the floor had been removed or replaced then the diary was most likely gone. Sebastian knew that Emily had left town suddenly. Still she may very well have taken it with her. But as least I would have tried and maybe that would be enough to put Sebastian’s soul to rest. Of course this would completely destroy any chance I might ever have had with Seth, but I’d convinced myself that Gina was never going to let him go anyhow. Couldn’t really blame her. I don’t think I’d give up a guy like Seth without putting up a serious fight.

Mom was listening to her political talk radio show in the car while I went over the steps of the plan in my mind. My phone vibrated. “Who would call me so early? I need a new phone, Mom. One without teeth marks. I can’t even text anymore.”

She smiled. “We’ll get a new one with my next check.”

“Hello.”

“Hey Zilly, it’s Dad.”

I glanced at my mom’s profile. “Hi, Dad. What’s up? Did you have a nice visit with Cynthia’s parents?” Mom knew I was watching her. She froze her face into a noncommittal half grin like she had no interest in our conversation, but her head inched a tiny bit closer to me.

“It was very nice.”

That was a terrifically bland answer.

“I was thinking we could go car shopping next weekend. I could pick you up on Saturday. I have no flights , so my calendar is clear.”

“I don’t know, Dad. I’ve got this junior year party to go to Saturday.” I hadn’t planned to go since I barely knew anyone, but I figured it was my best opportunity to make nice-nice with Hank.

“I’ll pick you up Sunday morning then. We can shop around Pelican Bay.”

He must have been feeling extra guilty to give up his Sunday with Cynthia. A car would be great though. “Sounds good, Dad. See you Sunday. Safe landing.” Mom’s eyes hadn’t strayed from the road but her ears were nearly twitching to hear everything.

I snapped the phone shut. “We’re going car shopping this Sunday.”

Mom nodded. “Glad he’s not breaking that promise.”

There was a million ways I could interpret that but I chose not to. I already had a million other thoughts running through my head.

I strutted through the doors to the school. My pink tank top got more attention than I’d expected. But my apelike target was nowhere in sight. Neither was Seth. I hadn’t talked to him since the coffee shop disaster.

It seemed I really did need to start a weirdness rating for my days because this day was going to need it. As I neared my locker, my well-thought out plans were obliterated.

Gina was leaning against the lockers talking with none other than Hank. She kept smiling up at him and pushing her boobs out. He was totally into her. I glanced around but didn’t see Seth. A girl would have to be an idiot to give up someone like Seth for Hank.  And to flirt with Seth’s biggest enemy, she was either a major witch or an imbecile. In Gina’s case, I decided it was some of both. Their nearly intertwined legs blocked my locker. I cleared my throat loudly, but they ignored me.

“Excuse me, but I need to get into my locker,” I said.

Hank glanced down at me over his shoulder. “I guess you’ll have to wait then, bitch.”

That was all I needed to hear. My scheme to attract him melted beneath my fury. “Listen, you brainless lump of shit, move, so I can get into my locker.” His face bloated up into a big red balloon. I took a step back and smacked into someone standing behind me. Gina’s eyes widened but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with me being close to having my head ripped off.

“What the hell is going on?” Seth’s voice was low.

I turned and our eyes locked for a minute. Then I remembered I was sandwiched between him and a huge caveman with a red face and balled fists who I had just referred to as a lump of shit. I squeezed out of my spot and stepped back. Seth’s chest heaved up and down as he glared at Gina. She sort of shrank down beneath all her heavy make-up. Seth looked totally pissed, which meant that he was really jealous, which meant that he really liked Gina, which actually made a heavy lump form in my stomach. Perfect.

Seth and Hank were doing that blown-up chest, arms out to the side kind of dance that guys do when they’re waiting for the first fist to fly.

Seth brought his face up to Hank’s. A crowd began to form around us. The only good thing about a crowd was that it was a sure way to alert teachers. Either I didn’t want to see Seth get hurt or I didn’t want to see him fight over Gina. I looked around past the bobbing heads of the spectators. The teachers were apparently still hovering around the microwave in the lounge waiting for their coffees to heat because no adults surfaced.

Gina had this twinkle in her eyes as if she’d plotted all this, and it was turning out just the way she’d wanted. Hank’s massive arm shot out and his fist plowed into Seth’s stomach. Seth stumbled backward into some onlookers. They caught him and propped him back onto his feet. He flew forward and threw his fist into Hank’s smirking face just as the vice principal blew his whistle. “Warner, Dallas, to my office!”

Gina reached for Seth’s arm but he wrenched it away. There was a twinkle of evil under all her makeup. Seth spun around and walked toward me. Roughly, he grabbed hold of my arms and pulled me toward him. His mouth slammed over mine. He kissed me hard then released me.

Confusion must have shown in my face as if WTF had been etched into my forehead. His dark, angry gaze held mine for a minute, then he stalked off toward the vice principal’s office.

Everyone was staring at me, especially Gina. It was not exactly what I had dreamt about when I imagined Seth kissing me. The last thing I wanted was to be used as a stooge to make Gina jealous. Did I just happen to be the closest pair of available lips or had he really wanted to kiss me? The whole thing was a shitty deal, and I wanted no part of the little drama. I turned to leave and my knees wobbled. Stupid fucking kiss.

I didn’t know too many people yet, which was sort of the social life I’d been striving for, but I heard enough from my few acquaintances to know that Seth and Hank were suspended for the rest of the week. Big rumors began about how Seth was so crazy about Gina he’d punched a guy just for looking at her and then turned around and used some girl to make Gina jealous. The story grew closer and closer to a teen movie script with each retell. I was ready to slam my head against the nearest wall when, during Chemistry, Julie whispered to me that she’d heard Seth was ready to kill himself if Gina left him. That’s when I decided Gina must have been circulating her own fictitious version of the story. The way Seth had wrenched his arm from her grasp did not really jive with that desperately in love scenario. Anyone with half a brain could see that Gina was messing with Seth’s head. Why--I couldn’t say but then nothing seemed too secure or logical about Gina.

The kiss was the part of the story that kept replaying in my head, and it came out differently each time. One minute I’d convinced myself I was just a stupid pawn who happened to be standing there at the wrong time. The next minute I’d convince myself that there was more behind the kiss. All I knew for sure was that I’d felt it down to my toes, and my legs felt like rubber for an hour afterward, which would make it extra pathetic if he’d only been using me.

****

The crappy day at school had dampened my spirits enough that I wasn’t even looking forward to the stables anymore. I’d thrown my riding boots into my backpack and put them on in the car as Mom drove me to the stables.

“How was your day?” Mom asked as I tied up the laces.

“Let’s just say it didn’t go quite the way I’d expected it to.” Talk about a major understatement. “I hope my first day of work goes better.”

“It’s been a while since you rode so be careful.”

“With the mood I’m in, it’s the horses that better be careful.” Suddenly a swift canter around an arena sounded like the best therapy in the world.

Moses was at Legend’s stall with the hay wagon. “I’m going to feed right now. You could help and I’ll tell you about some of the animals you’ll be working with.” He glanced around the stable area. “My stable hand quit yesterday so I’m looking for a new one. I could use some help mucking too.”

“No problem,” I said, but I was itching to get in the saddle.

We filled up a wheelbarrow with flakes of hay and started down the row of stalls. “This bay gelding is Cash. His owner leaves brushes and hoof picks in the trunk in front of his stall. Use the round pen. He won’t give you any trouble. Cash is a real sweet horse.”

A paint horse was pawing at the ground waiting anxiously for his hay in the next paddock. “It’s coming you spoiled horse.” Moses leaned over the wheelbarrow and lifted two flakes of alfalfa into the air and tossed them to the ground. The horse trotted to it and lowered its head to graze. “Throw a stud chain on Pipe Dream when you get him out. He thinks he’s part of a circus act.”

I helped throw out the rest of the hay. Moses handed me a mucking fork. “Let’s start over here. If you get three stalls mucked, I’ll show you to the tack room and you can saddle up Dusty.”

I shoveled up a pile and tossed it into a wheelbarrow. “Looking forward to riding him. I have to admit, it’s been almost a year since I’ve ridden.”

“Just like riding a bicycle. You never forget how.”

“Considering I’ve nearly lived in the saddle since I was eight, I’m sure it’ll all come back to me.”

Moses bent over and wheeled the barrow to the next stall. The grimace on his face showed the pain in his hands and knees while he moved it. “Divorce can be hard on everyone.”

“Even horses, I guess.” I smiled realizing how the manual labor of moving horse poop was making me feel better. “My poor horse, Carrington, has a new owner who thinks pulling on the mouth is the best way to control a horse.”

Moses shook his head. “It’s amazing how many people can ride horses and never actually figure the animals out. You can’t be a good rider if you don’t connect with your horse.”

“You and I think a lot alike, Moses.”

“This should work out great then.” He straightened and rubbed his lower back. “Now if I can just find a decent stable hand.”

“Maybe you should put up a flyer at the high school. I’m sure there are a lot of kids who’d like a job.”

Moses nodded. “I think I’ll do that.” He leaned back over his fork. “So what’s it like in that old house? You settling in?”

“Well, it’s not exactly Buckingham Palace, but it’s growing on me.” Slowly I’d begun to realize that even though we were short a major player, I still had Mom and the stink twins, so it was home.

“My wife, Trudy, used to tell me some stories about the boy who drowned out there. The uncle was a wretched man. He swindled half the townsfolk out of their life savings all the while squandering his nephew’s trust fund.”

I stopped mucking. “How does your wife know about the family? It happened so long ago.”

“From what Trudy’s told me, the nephew, the boy who drowned, was desperately in love with her grandmother, Emily.”

The handle slipped out of my hand and smacked the pipe corrals. The horses lifted their heads momentarily to see what the clamor was about then returned to their hay. I retrieved the fork.  A billion questions raced through my head, but I knew which one to ask first.

“Did her grandmother love him?”

Moses shrugged. “I suppose. Love and commitment were different back then. She eventually moved to New York to marry someone else. As you said, it was long ago. Not many details remain. There’s always been some question about how the boy died. Trudy had heard that her grandmother was quite distraught when she heard the news about his death.”

This was life in a small town. Everyone was connected in some way or another. Never in a million years did I expect to be having a conversation with Moses about Sebastian. If Emily was distraught then she had to have loved him. I couldn’t wait to talk to Sebastian. Maybe the diary wouldn’t be necessary after all. Considering how the start to my plan went this morning, that was probably a good thing.

Moses wheeled the cart past the stalls. “You ready to ride?”

“Absolutely.”

I was standing in the tack room picking up the saddle and pad Moses had pointed out when small, light footsteps sounded behind me. I turned. Trudy was petite and slightly hunched over. There was a swirl of ginger in the gray hair swept up into a bun on her head. Blue eyes clouded by age smiled out from skin that had been weathered by a lot of time in the sun, no doubt while on the back of a horse. She stuck out a frail hand. “I’m Trudy and I understand you’re Brazil.”

I nodded.

“Well the names are definitely getting more unique these days. Just be thankful you weren’t saddled with a name like Gertrude. Thank goodness for nicknames.” She smiled, and I knew I liked her instantly. “Dusty goes rough on his left lead so don’t let him lean on you. Don’t let him take advantage even once or he’ll keep trying you.”

“Got it. He sure is a cool horse. Did he win a lot of ribbons?”

“We were quite a team out there. Unfortunately my hips have told me to retire. His too, I’m afraid.” Trudy pulled out a small footstool, stepped on it, and plucked a bridle from a hook on the wall. She handed it to me. “Use this bit. It’ll make him pay attention.”  She winked. “Now let’s get that lazy guy out to the arena.”

Even old and retired, Dusty was an awesome gelding. I could only imagine what a blast it would have been to ride him over jumps. The first time I pushed him into a canter, I actually laughed out loud. Trudy laughed with me. I’d missed riding but I hadn’t realized how badly till Dusty and I were flying around the arena with the ocean wind cooling my face and the soft thud of horse hooves filling the air. I don’t know why I’d stop riding in the first place. The problems my parents were having seemed to lull me into a state of existence where I had little enthusiasm for anything, even my horse. Man, did I miss Carrington. Losing him was losing another piece of my existence.

Trudy stayed to watch me ride. It had been awhile since Dusty and I had had such a workout so the ride didn’t last too long. Trudy opened the arena gate. “You ride beautifully, Brazil. Reminds me of myself up there.”

“Thanks.” We walked to the barn. “Trudy, do you mind if I ask you something about your grandmother?” Curiosity was eating a hole in me.

“Grandma Emmie? Not at all. Although she died when I was quite young, so I don’t remember too much about her.”

“Before she left to New York to be married to the man whom I suppose must be your grandfather was there someone else in her life?” It was a poorly worded and ridiculously leading question, but I couldn’t just shout out did Emily love Sebastian? After all, how was some new teenage kid in town supposed to know about Sebastian. Unless, of course, he was popping in and out of her life as an unsettled ghost. Trudy was easy to talk to but I think if I brought that up, she might think I was nuts. I tied up Dusty and removed the tack.

“Well, she had some friends here in Pelican Bay if that’s what you mean. Her betrothal to Sammuel, my grandfather, was very sudden. Her father whisked her out of town without warning. He was in some kind of dispute with another man in town.” Her eyes widened. “In fact it was the man who owned the house you live in, the Middleton house. I don’t really know any of the details though.” Trudy brushed Dusty’s coat. “How do you know about my grandmother?”

Now I was in trouble. I had to formulate an answer without sounding crazy. Keeping a secret like a ghost hanging around is harder than I thought. “Letters.” It was the first thought that popped into my head. “I found some old letters written by the boy who lived there. They are letters to your grandmother.”

Trudy looked up from her task. “Letters from the Middleton boy? I’ve never heard about them.”

“They were unopened when I found them.” I stared down at my feet to hide the blush I felt in my face. “I suppose I shouldn’t have opened them.”

“Why on earth not? It’s not like the boy is around to care whether you read them or not.”

I smiled and shook my head.
“What a shame my grandmother never saw the letters. Are they nice letters?’

“Sebastian Middleton was very in love with your grandmother.”

“I believe she was fond of him as well.”

Darn it. That statement did not tell me much. I was hoping she would say Emily was madly and tragically in love with Sebastian. Then I could tell him and that would be the end of his unfinished ghost business. He could move on knowing she loved him and I would not have to think about the diary, or Hank, or Seth. Or that damn kiss that I had shoved out of my mind until just now. “I’ll take Dusty back to his stall so he can finish his hay.”

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Brazil. I think this will work out nicely for Moses and me.” She reached up and patted Dusty on the neck. “And for the horses.”

I smiled at her. “I think it’s going to work out great for me too.” On the way back to the stall, I contemplated lying to Sebastian about what Trudy had said. It wouldn’t really be lying. I’d just be embellishing it a bit. But something told me, he could tell if I wasn’t being honest. He seemed to have incredible senses, dead as they were, when it came to me.

****

“Something happened today. I can see it in the flush of your skin,” Sebastian’s voice drifted over my shoulder as I finished an essay for English. It was the worst I’d ever written, but my mind had been jumbled all day.

“The flush of my skin? You’re making that up because you’re curious if I talked to the Warner boy. You could just ask, you know.”

“I’m not making anything up. You’re much more--much more pink than you were when you left this morning.” His mood seemed brighter. The cocky grin surfaced through the mist.

“There is this strange, little star in the sky during the day called the Sun. You may have heard of it. It sort of follows us around while we are outside, and it causes us to get pink.”

“Did you use this sarcasm on the Warner boy today? If so, I’m sure he has already fallen madly in love with you.”

I laughed nervously. “I don’t think love would be the word to use. Mad--yes. But love--no. I sort of referred to him as a lump of shit today.”

With a flash, Sebastian was sitting on my computer desk glowering down at me.

“And why, pray tell, would you call him a lump of shit?”

“Because he is one.”

My homework books flew off my desk and crashed into the opposite wall. I jumped off the chair and backed away. “You know maybe your temper is what scared Emily away.” I heard the words spill out of my mouth before they could be stopped.

But nothing else flew against the wall or, for that matter, my head. Sebastian vanished.

“Don’t I get to explain at least?” I called into the air. “He called me a bitch.”

As if someone had flipped a switch, he was back sitting on my desk. “What kind of gentleman calls a girl a bitch?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Hank is a pig. He is a crude, despicable bully.”

“Then forget the diary. You must stay away from this swine.”

“No problem.”

Sebastian’s form washed over the floor. He laid back and put his arms behind his head. The rose pattern on the area rug showed through his shirt and face. “I guess I will have to haunt you forever then.”

I glared down at him. It was surprising how smug a ghost could look. I shrugged. “Go right ahead. Besides, when I die, I’m going to track you down in whatever world you’re floating around and annoy you for eternity.”

I removed my boots and lifted them up to smile at the dust covering the brown leather. I drew a heart in the dirt. “I rode today.”

“Rode what?”

“A horse.”

“You’d mentioned you were an equestrian. I owned a horse in England, but I never had one here in the states.”

“I left mine behind in Boston, but I’m going to get him back one day.” After several hours at the stable, I was determined to buy Carrington back and bring him here to Pelican Bay. I placed my boots beneath my computer desk and glanced down at the ghost floating above my rug. “The horse I rode belongs to an older woman named Trudy.”

He floated up to the window and gazed down at the beach.

“She’s Emily granddaughter.”

His image spun around to face me. “Why did you not tell me?”

“Waiting for the right time, I guess. You do tend to overreact about things. Makes it tough to just blurt out info.”

He floated closer. “What was she like? Was she beautiful? Did she mention Emily? Emily has a granddaughter? What did she say?”

I put up my hands up to stop the barrage of questions. “Whoa there, Spunky, give me a chance.” I tapped my chin. “Let’s see. She is very tiny and sweet. A little wrinkled around the edges but beautiful. Yes, we talked about Emily. And obviously she has a granddaughter because I was talking to her and she said Emily was her grandma so that makes sense, I think. And she said Emily was fond of you.” I slumped back on my chair. “I think that covers it.”

Sebastian’s image blurred as he hovered near me. Cool charges of static electricity made the hairs on my arm stand up. “You are toying with me, Brazil. What else did she say? I must know.”

“You see. Look at you. Your molecules or whatever you call the stuff are bouncing all over the place. I can’t tell you anything without you getting all kookoo bananas on me. She said Emily was fond of you. That was the exact word she used. Fond. I could have lied and said she was crazy in love with you but you are already a very unstable ghost. I didn’t want you to find out I was lying and do something crazy.”

He disappeared instantly leaving behind only a swirl of moisture.

“See. I can’t even tell you one little thing without you going all invisible on me. And I know you’re there and you’re listening.” I grabbed my sweats. “I’m going to change now so don’t look. Grump.” My stuffed hippo flew off the bed and smacked the back of my head.

Chapter 13

I’d never gone back and forth on something so much in my life, but by Saturday morning I’d decided to try for the diary again. I had not heard from or seen Seth since the kiss, and I’d solidly convinced myself that he had just used me to get back at his girlfriend. The last thing I needed was to go loopy for a guy who had no real interest in me. So Hank was my target, and I intended to get invited to his house so I could snoop.

The party was on the beach so I dug in my drawers for my secret weapon-- my blazing blue bikini. But after trying it on, I was nearly blinded by the whiteness of my skin. So I covered up with a t-shirt and khaki shorts. I wouldn’t reveal the bikini unless desperate measures were called for.

“Although things were grand back in my day, I have nothing but praise for the evolution of the swimsuit.”

I sat down on my window seat to buckle my sandals.  “Exactly how long have you been watching me?”

“I assure you I am always the gentleman. I was merely noting that less is more when it comes to swimsuits.”

I walked to the mirror and rubbed sunscreen on my face. “I’ve decided to try for the diary, after all.”

The sound of paws and footsteps pounded in the hallway and Sebastian vanished.  Mom stepped inside.  “I’m glad you’re going to the beach party.” She stepped closer and reached up with her thumb to rub the white streak of sun block from my eyebrow. She thought I was going to the party to be social.

I smoothed my hair back and tucked it behind my ears. “I’m going so I can flirt shamelessly with the school bully and get invited to his house, so I can steal an old diary for a lovesick ghost.”

“Zilly,” she laughed, “the stories that pop into that head of yours.” She smacked my butt with the back of her hand. “Try to have fun.” She turned to leave then looked back over her shoulder. “Will Seth be there?’

What was her obsession with Seth? I shrugged and grabbed my sunglasses from the desk. “He got suspended for fighting, so I don’t know if he’ll be there.”

“Suspended? And he seemed like such a nice guy.”

I kissed her on the cheek. “Aren’t you the one who always tells me that looks can be deceiving? See ya.”

My new school was a lot smaller than the one in Boston, but the beach was crowded with the junior class by the time I’d arrived. Cheesy beach décor of fake palm trees and fishing nets had been set up to give the party a beachy feeling, which was kind of redundant since it was obviously a beach party. The involved moms who seemed to hang around the school wishing they were reliving their glory days were setting up portable grills  and tables with sodas, chips, mustard, and buns. Apparently hot dogs were on the menu.

I was happy to see that I wasn’t the only person whose skin color could be camouflaged in the white sand. Most of the other girls had already removed their cover-up clothes, but I wasn’t ready to part with mine. Hank’s bloated, blonde head was bobbing up and down in the volleyball game but I didn’t see Seth. I didn’t know if I was glad about that or not.

“Hi, Brazil.” Julie was sipping a root beer and wearing a brown bikini to match.

“Hey. So this is the famous junior year beach party.” Julie and I didn’t have a lot in common, and our conversations usually went to meaningless subjects.

She looked around. “This is it. I can’t believe I’ve waited eleven years for this. Check out those corny decorations.”

I smiled. “Looks like a party store exploded out here.”

Julie laughed. “You’re so funny.” She moved closer to me. “Is it true that you were the girl Seth kissed to piss off Gina?”

Wow, that was an abrupt switch in subjects. “Unfortunately, yes. My lips were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Oh my gosh, how humiliating.” She began to pour her soda into the sand. “This stuff is flat.” It was like watching a tennis match with the way Julie smacked the subject back and forth from one place to another. “Everyone says he made the kiss look real.” Match point.

“If you mean real in the sense that our lips touched, then yes.”I pushed my hands into my pockets and turned to watch the volleyball game. It actually looked fun, and it would be a way to talk to Hank. Although my resolve to flirt with him and get the diary had evaporated to little more than a puddle on my way here. I decided on my own topic switch. “Can anyone play in the volleyball game?”

Julie nodded. “Just get in the line to rotate in. But I have to warn you some of the guys take it pretty seriously. They yell at you if you mess up. Oh, and then there is the rule.”

“The rule?” The game started seeming less and less fun.

“You have to play in your bathing suit. The guys made it up, of course. They just want to see the girls’ boobs bounce.”

I glanced at the game. Everyone was stripped down to their swimsuits, and everyone was still pale from a long east coast winter. I would blend right in. I looked around the beach. Most of the sand was already covered with towels. “I need to put my stuff down somewhere.”

Julie grabbed my arm. “I saved you a spot by me.” She dragged me over to her towel. I was glad because I hated to sit alone.

I spread out my towel and sat to watch the game a little longer. That’s when I noticed Gina and some of her friends lying on towels near the game. She was wearing a yellow bathing suit, which was an unflattering color for anyone. In Gina’s case, it gave her skin a greenish glow. She was super skinny. Too skinny, in fact. No curves at all, just a belly button ring and a couple of shoulder tattoos. Julie must have noticed me staring at her.

“Seth is out in the water. No one has seen them talk since the fight. It’s like the big drama of the day.”

I squinted out to the water. The waves were rolling into shore carrying at least four body surfers at a time. It was hard to tell which one was Seth.

“So what was it like?” Julie pushed open the lid of her suntan oil and began greasing her legs.

I leaned back on my elbows. “What was what like?”

“The kiss? What was it like kissing Seth Dallas?”

“I’ve had better,” I lied. “Besides it wasn’t really a kiss. It was an act, remember.” Suddenly the game looked tempting again. I was here for a reason, and it definitely wasn’t to hang around with Julie all day and talk about the mock kiss. I pushed to my feet, unbuttoned my shorts, and slid them down.

“Lucky. Your legs look like you work out.” Julie sat up and flicked her thighs with her finger. “Mine are wobbly and fat. Do you run or something?”

“I did cross country for a few years, but I think it’s because I rode horses for a long time.” I folded my shorts and tossed them onto my towel.

“This should be good,” Julie said. She was staring out at the water. She had the attention span of a ten-week-old puppy.

I glanced down to the water. A very wet Seth strolled out of the waves with the top half of his wetsuit hanging down at his waist, exposing a great chest. His inky black hair dripped over his shoulders. I sucked in a breath. Julie did too.

Seth was searching the beach for something. Gina, no doubt. I turned away, sure that I could not stomach their reunion. “Do you think they’ll let me leave on my t-shirt? I don’t want to burn.”

Julie was still staring at the water. I half expected her tongue to flop out of her mouth. She shook her head. “I doubt it. Sort of defeats the whole purpose.” She sat forward. “Seth is so gorgeous. He’s not walking toward Gina.”

Reluctantly, I pulled off my t-shirt thinking Sebastian owed me big time for this. Of course, I don’t know what a ghost could give me in payment. I tossed down my shirt and Julie gasped. “I know. I’m blinding white.”

But Julie wasn’t looking at me. “He’s coming this way.”

I twisted around. Being drenched in saltwater did nothing to lessen his dreaminess. He stopped in front of my towel. His long lashes were clumped together with moisture, and beads of water rolled down the hollow in his throat.

Julie pushed forward her cleavage. “How’s the water, Seth?” Her tone was whispery soft.

Seth smiled down at her. “Not too bad. But I wouldn’t suggest it without a wetsuit.” He turned back to look at me, and he didn’t hide the fact that he was staring at my body.

“Any good rides?” I asked trying to refocus his attention away from the neck down part of me.

His gaze lifted. Little streaks of sand edged the side of his mouth. “Pretty flat out there.” Then we didn’t say anything. We just stared at each other. That stupid kiss had made things so confusing. Julie cleared her throat loudly. I looked past Seth’s shoulder. Gina was heading toward us. It’s tough to walk like a bad-ass in sand, but she was giving it a good go.

“I’m going to join the game,” I said quickly and tromped off through the maze of towels without looking back. I wanted no part of the Gina and Seth saga. And I definitely did not want to be used.

I got more than my share of stares as I walked up to the volleyball line. Hank noticed me right away, which, of course, should have been a good thing for my plan, but his leering stare turned my stomach. From behind some tall kid’s shoulder, I peeked over toward Julie’s towel where I’d left Seth and his evil sidekick, Gina. But they weren’t standing there. In fact, after a quick survey, I spotted Gina back at her own towel slouched angrily in her beach chair. Seth was nowhere in sight.

The guys were playing rough, slamming the ball down over the net. Especially Hank. I knew how to play, but I worried that I would make an ass of myself. By the time I moved to the front of the line, my stomach fluttered like I’d swallowed a hummingbird.

“Well, look who’s next,” Hank said as I rotated onto his team. His face and chest were red from the sun. Obviously, he was too macho to put on sun block. “Hope you know how to play, but if not, that’s OK. We just like watching you stand there in that blue bikini.”

I bit my tongue and figured I would probably have teeth marks in it by the end of the day. A weak smile forced its way onto my face, which left Hank, who was no doubt waiting for my sarcastic response, speechless. He stood there with that all too familiar open-mouthed stare. I hadn’t noticed until now, how tremendously big his nostrils were. No wonder he hated Seth so much. It was hard to believe they were from the same species.

A plump guy with red hair and a nose coated in white cream called the score from the server’s corner. The game was tie so far. The serve flew across the net and was lobbed back over. Naturally, it came right to me. I bumped it to the guy in front of me, who set it up, and Hank smacked it down hard on the other side.

Hank’s chest bellowed out like a strutting rooster. He high-fived the guy and me. My hand stung from it, but I was working hard to be pleasant and chummy. Two more serves and it seemed as if I had a magnet inside of me that attracted volleyballs. I couldn’t get away from the friggin’ thing. My wrists burned from the ball smacking them.

I assisted Hank two more times and we got the points. I could only imagine the humiliation I’d have to endure if I’d missed the ball. A blue bikini could only get a girl so far when it came to a testosterone plagued competition.

My imagination did not have to reach far before I witnessed, first-hand, the consequences of blowing a point. We lost the serve on the next ball when a girl on our team popped it up and out of the court so far that Hank had to dive for it. He missed and plowed right through two girls who’d been watching the game. They both flew backward into the sand. One of them was unlucky enough to lose the can of cola in her hand. It smacked into Hank’s chest before spilling its sticky, brown contents on his white swim trunks.

Rather than giving the girl a hand up, the creep picked up the can, and threw it at her. Then he turned to the poor girl who had sent the ball out of the court. “Hey, Tammy, give it a rest. Your flat chest ain’t worth having in the game anyway.” A couple of Hank’s friends snickered but no one else laughed.

My hands balled into fists, and I could feel my nails cutting my palm. I wanted to pummel the guy’s horrid face. I glanced over at the two girls he’d tackled. Seth was helping them both to their feet. The smiles and twinkling expressions on both girls made it clear that their pain and embarrassment had been totally worth it.

Tammy’s head drooped forward as she shuffled off the court.

“That was a good try,” I said sounding like a complete knucklehead after the horrid put-down the girl had just experienced. It was all I could think of to say. Actually, I had a lot of things to say, but they would be directed at the pig standing in the court with that hideous smirk plastered on his big, red face. I pushed my teeth further into my tongue and resumed my spot on the court.

“Hey, there’s a line, asshole,” Hank sneered as he glared at the other team.

My gaze shot through the net. Seth was rotating in on the other side. “They gave me line cuts.” The words came out through gritted teeth. Seth looked pissed as hell. His mouth was pulled tight, and he was wearing dark sunglasses. This new, serious look was very hot. The guy really didn’t have an ugly expression.

Seth took a position at the net. The serve flew across and came down directly between a nervous looking girl to my right and me. I think her name was Angie. She had been playing well till now. But after the verbal beating Tammy received, Angie had apparently lost her nerve. She didn’t move toward the ball. I lunged sideways and managed to pop it in the air high enough for Hank to have time to shove the rest of our teammates out of the way before pummeling it over to the other side.

Seth was the target but he was ready. He returned it before any of us had time to react. Of course, everyone else on our side was so terrified by Hank, they didn’t want to get near the ball for fear that he would fling them into the sand or embarrass them in front of the entire junior class. And it had to have been nearly the entire junior class now circling the court. Gina had pushed herself to the front of the crowd to cheer Seth on.

The other team scored two points, or more accurately, Seth scored two points. I expected flames to shoot out of Hank’s oversized nostrils when the second point ball landed soundly in the sand three inches from where Hank’s fist landed after he dove across the sand. He jumped up. His face was beet red but not just from the sun. “You fucking morons! Do I have to play this game by myself?”

That was all Angie needed to here. She scurried out of the game looking resigned to never play volleyball again.

“Good riddance, you loser,” Hank shouted after her. He scowled at the rest of the group but avoided making eye contact with me. “Anyone of the rest of you pussies want to leave?” We all stood our ground, but it was safe to say that team morale was at an all time low.

I peeked across the way. Sunglasses made it hard to know where a person was looking, but I had this strange feeling Seth was watching me the whole time. Seth had been sending the ball over at the speed of light, so I was relieved the next return came from someone else on his team. I returned it and we won back the serve.

After several more rounds, it became obvious that the rest of us were just filler because the game had become a match between Seth and Hank. The more points each team scored, the more competitive things got, and the harder the ball came whizzing back. One girl on Seth’s side got nailed on the cheek and left the game in tears with a bag of ice on her face. The lines for rotating in had disappeared. No one wanted to join in the blood match.

Gina scowled at me every time I saved one or lobbed one over. She screamed and jumped up and down every time Seth scored. He seemed more embarrassed than fortified by her cheering.

I was the only person on our team getting high-fives from Hank. And every time Hank made contact with my hand, Seth seemed to smack the ball a little harder.

On the next rotation, I landed face to face with Seth at the net. There was a scowl on his face that I decided was not his best look, but since all his other looks were way past dreamy, he was allowed this less than dreamy one.

“Looks like you made a new friend,” he said.

“Not a friend, just playing some volleyball is all.” I didn’t know what else to say since I couldn’t explain what I was doing chumming up with the jerk.

“Just playing volleyball, huh? I think the entire male half of the junior class is going to be having wet dreams tonight about a blue bikini.”

His words slapped me and I bit back tears. I stared at him hard and swallowed to find my tongue. I found it but my usual biting sarcasm had been flattened by his ugly remark. “Bastard. So much for thinking you were different.”

“Yah, well, maybe I was wrong about you too.” He moved back to the serve line, and the guy who was supposed to serve replaced him at the net.

Seth had some nerve after the way he’d used me in front of everyone. Now I really wanted to win this too. It dawned on me just how badly the kiss had hurt my feelings.

Seth served the ball. It shot straight at me like a bullet. It flew low and fast. I dove for it, sliding across the rough, hot sand with my hands clamped in front of me. I volleyed it straight up and Hank whipped it over for a point.

“I don’t know about anyone else but my new favorite color is blue.” Hank smiled down at me and offered me a hand up, which I took. But his chivalry went too far when he reached his hand toward my chest to brush away the sand.

My hand shot up to stop him. “I’ve got it. Thanks.” My plan was working. I seemed to be winning over Hank. At the same time, I was making an enemy of Seth. The whole thing made me want to puke.

The game was tied. Things had gotten so intense, only four players remained on each side. The red-haired guy who Hank had cleverly been referring to as “Red” all game left after three of his knuckles had been jammed. Another guy on Seth’s side left doubled over in pain when the ball nailed him in the groin. I was half-expecting and half-hoping the adults would put an end to the match. My arms were red and swollen, but the pain was nothing compared to the ache in my stomach I felt every time Seth looked at me. When he was up to serve again, I dug my feet into the sand in case the ball flew my way.

Before he let loose on the ball, Gina held up her hand to stop the game. She sashayed in with her bony hips and walked up to Seth. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a long kiss. “For luck.” She walked back out.

Seth looked stunned for a minute then his fist plowed into the ball. It landed out of the court. So much for Gina’s lucky kiss. The one good thing about it though was it attracted the attention of the adult chaperones. It didn’t matter if kids were leaving the game with swollen faces, jammed knuckles, and possibly sterile for life, but a girl shoving her tongue down some guy’s throat, now that was cause for alarm.

The game ended with Seth’s team one point ahead, which made Hank’s face even bigger and redder. If it were possible for him to look any less attractive to me, he’d managed it with this game. But I kept a stupid smile frozen on my face as if I enjoyed his company.

Julie met me with a can of soda and a hot dog. “You sure can play well.”

I sipped the warm soda. “It was a little too competitive for my taste.”

“I’ll say,” Julie laughed. “You could cut the tension out there with a knife. Hank and Seth sure look ready to clobber each other again. I guess the four day suspension didn’t cool their tempers too much. And what the heck was Gina doing?”

I bit into the hot dog. It was cold and drenched in mustard. “Apparently Gina did not feel like she was getting enough attention out on the sidelines.”

I peered over the top of my can as I took another sip. Seth was sitting in the sand next to Gina. I certainly did a fine job of pushing those two lovers back together.

“Nice playing, Brazil.” Hank was behind me now pouring a bag of crushed potato chips onto his hot dog.

I squeezed out a grin. “Thanks. You too.” I knew this was a big opportunity to flirt with him, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Besides, I was tired and my arms were sore.

“Some of us are going to take a swim after lunch. You interested?’ He shoved the hot dog into his mouth. The broken chips cascaded into the sand alerting several nearby gulls.

“Maybe later.” Another forced smile and I returned to my cold hot dog.

Patience was another virtue Hank lacked. I was returning to my towel when the beast swept me up and carried me down to the water. When he’d decided we were on intimate enough terms to allow him to carry me, I’m not sure. I protested and kicked the whole way to the ocean. He just laughed like a Neanderthal dragging his woman by her hair to the cave.

I left scratch marks in his shoulders but this didn’t stop him. Next thing I knew, he dropped me into the water. It was arctic cold.

I jumped to my feet. “Shit, that’s freezing! Why’d you do that?”

“Just wanted to see what that suit looked like wet.” He was such an ass. I had to grit my teeth against the cold and the bitchy tirade that wanted to explode from my mouth.

A fake giggle spurted from the side of my mouth. I stomped out of the water trying not to look pissed but I was seething.

Julie’s mouth hung open as I marched toward my towel, swept it up, and headed to the showers behind the restrooms. The shower water felt like icy pins against my skin, and I was shivering from head to toe. It was late spring and the sun was beating down hard, but the ocean and the water in the shower pipes had not thawed from the winter cold. I closed my eyes to wash the sand from my hair and wondered how I was going to go through with this.

“That was sweet.” A deep voice startled me, and I sucked in some disgusting shower water and started coughing. Seth was leaning against the retaining wall in front of the shower. His black hair had dried in long, salty waves, and his silver earrings gave him a sexy pirate quality.  “Now, do want to tell me what you’re doing flirting with that asshole?”

I turned off the water. My skin prickled with the cold. One visible shiver ran through me. Seth plucked my towel off the wall and walked toward me. Our faces were so close, I could have counted his long lashes. He reached around behind me and pulled my towel over my shoulders. I pinched it together at my chest. He stepped back and was staring down at me through those same thick lashes.

“I’m not really flirting with him. I mean, I am, but it’s not what you think. And why do I have to explain myself to you? Where’s your girlfriend?” I twisted back to make sure Gina wasn’t descending upon us like always. I turned back to him. He was awfully damn cute when he was sulking. “She must have turned off her Seth radar.”

“Funny. Gina and I are over. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Right.” I bent down and dried my legs with the dry corners of my towel. I straightened and glared at him. “That kiss in the hallway. What the hell was that about?”

“If you have to ask then I guess I’m a shitty kisser.”

“The kiss was fine. Your timing sucked.” I could feel heat rising in my face. At least that part of me was warm.

“I wasn’t trying to make Gina jealous, if that’s what you thought.”

“What else was I supposed to think? You nailed Hank because he was flirting with her.”

“I nailed him because I hate his guts. And now you seem to be cozying up to him.”

I scrubbed the towel through my hair and wondered if I looked like a drowned rat. Seth had walked out of the water like a wet Greek god. “I can’t tell you why I’m talking to Hank. You wouldn’t believe me anyhow. I just need to get invited to his house.”

One dark, smooth eyebrow lifted. He stared at my face a minute, and for a second, it seemed he contemplated kissing me again. Or maybe that was just me being hopeful. “Well, you have fun with that then.” He walked away.

Some days are tough to put a rating on and this was one of them. I hardly had to be nice to Hank and he invited me to a small party at his house later that night, although, I still had no idea how to search his closet without looking like a nutcase. He must have thought I was too new in town to realize that he was a pig. Other girls were not exactly flocking around him, even though he was technically an O.K. looking guy. But his personality sucked. I don’t know when I’d ever met anyone with less charm than that oaf.

The invite should have raised the day’s rating high. But the tense interactions with Seth sent the day’s rating onto a rollercoaster ride. The kiss just may have been a real kiss, but now that I was hanging out with his worst enemy, Seth was sure never to kiss me again. That prospect sucked.

Chapter 14

Between an entire day in the sun, the dip in icy water, and the intense volleyball game, everything hurt, even the top of my head where I forgot to put sun block on my part. I showered and fell into bed to read but conked out in minutes. I probably would have slept straight through the evening if Sebastian hadn’t hovered over me tickling my nose with the tail of my stuffed rabbit.

I scooted up and rested back against the cool wall behind my bed. “I hate when you watch me sleep. It goes way beyond creepy.”

“Really. Emily used to think it very romantic.”

“Yes, but you were flesh and blood then. Not vapor. And why does it always smell like almond when you pop in? Did you eat a lot of marzipan when you were alive?”

“I hated marzipan. But when the headaches started, I remember the constant bitter taste of almond in my mouth.”

“That’s bizarre. I’ve never heard of a disease with almond aftertaste.”

“I think it had to do with the exotic tea my uncle would force me to drink. He insisted it would help my headaches. But they only grew worse.”

“He forced you to drink funny tasting tea and you got even sicker?” I glanced at the clock on my nightstand, pushed off the bed, and rummaged through my closet for a dress to wear to Hank’s. “Sebastian, did you ever consider that your uncle may have been trying to kill you?”

My white-striped sundress with the halter top coasted out of my closet. “This one,” Sebastian said. “My uncle was a wretched man, no doubt. After he became mayor, he made many enemies, including Emily’s father. But a murderer? It seems unfathomable.”

“But he beat you.” Then I looked away from him figuring that I’d probably embarrassed him. “I’m sorry. It was a rumor I’d heard.”

He floated to his favorite perch on the window and stared down. “It’s true. As I said, he was truly a wretched man.”

A change in subject was in order. “You’ll never guess where I’m going tonight.”

“Out with the long haired boy? The one who picked you up the other night?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m going to the Warner’s house.”

With a blink, he was sitting on my desk. “You did it?” Then his expression darkened. “I thought you said he was terrible. Don’t do anything risky, Brazil. I could not live with my…”

My eyes opened wide, and we both laughed.

“You know what I mean. If this boy is not honorable, then don’t put yourself in danger.”

I picked up some fake diamond studs from my dresser and put them in my ears. “He is definitely not honorable, but I’m not a fool. I can take care of myself.”

My jewelry box lid opened and a pair of silver hoops floated out. “Wear these.”

I glared at him for a minute, reluctantly pulled out the studs, and put in the hoops. “I’m living with a ghost who is a freakin’ fashion critic. I think I have an idea for a new reality show. Dead Guy Makeover.”

I grabbed my hooded sweatshirt off the back of my chair, and Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Why do I bother?”

“Hey, if I find the diary, I can’t exactly hide in under a sundress.” I pulled on the sweatshirt. “Besides, my shoulders are burned and it’s making me cold.

He nodded and his expression darkened. His image wavered with the change in emotion. “I don’t know now, Brazil. What if she hadn’t loved me at all? Maybe it’s best I don’t know.”

I pushed my sleeves back and held out my forearms. Bruises had formed on both.

“My God, did that Warner brute do that to you?” Icy wind shot around the room and several papers flew off my desk.

“Relax. It was only a game of volleyball. Hank did not cause the bruises. Well, at least technically he didn’t.”

The atmosphere in my room stabilized again. Sebastian floated closer to look at my arms. His image blurred as he neared. “What was the ball made of? Iron?”

I smiled. “About halfway through the game, it felt like it. But the pain was worth it. It got me invited to the Warner’s house.”

“Brazil, dinner,” Mom called.

“I hope it’s not hot dogs.” I checked my hair in the mirror and turned back to Sebastian. “Wish me luck.” My ghostly roommate looked concerned. “Don’t worry, I know how to take care of myself.” I stopped at the doorway and looked back. Sebastian was sitting on my desk staring down at his own letters. He had that same sulky look I’d seen on Seth today. Sebastian pulled if off pretty well too. “And Sebastian--”

His face turned up.

“--if she didn’t love you, then she was a fool.” I walked out with his image still sitting on my desk.

“Eat something before you go.” Mom dug the keys from her purse and placed them on the table.

Tyler and Raymond were devouring the pan of nachos on the table.

“You should have seen the game.” A string of melted cheese hung from Tyler’s chin.

I handed him a napkin. “Did you win?”

Raymond shrugged. “Of course. Now that we’re on the team. I’m catcher.”

“Really?” I put a small scoop of nachos on my plate. “I’m surprised that bloated head of yours fits in the catcher’s mask.

“Yes, guys, a little humility please. Zilly, is that all you’re going to eat?”

“I had a bunch of junk at the party today, Mom. I feel like a fat cow.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Is your dad still coming tomorrow?”

I nodded and gulped ice water. “He hasn’t cancelled yet.”

“Remind him he needs to pay for the insurance on a car too.”

“You remind him. It’s not like you speak different languages.”

Mom sat down and served herself. “Will there be parents at this party?”

“Not sure.”

“Brazil,” Mom said in her concerned mom’s tone.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to stay long.” I pushed a chip into my mouth.

“Stay as long as you want,” Mom interjected. She was under the illusion that I was on track to make a bunch of new friends and this made her happy. I decided to let her live with the fantasy for a while.

I must have been hungrier than I thought because I cleaned my plate.  Mom was about to serve me some more, but I put up my hand to stop her. “I’ve got to run up and brush my teeth. Then I’m off.”

“Brazil’s got some kissing plans,” Tyler sang then shoveled a bean covered chip into his mouth. Raymond laughed with a full mouth.

“I know this will come as a shocking revelation to both of you, but some people make teeth brushing a habit.”

“We brush our teeth,” Raymond insisted.

“No, I mean daily and with toothpaste.”

I rushed upstairs to brush. Sebastian appeared on the rim of the tub. “Are you planning on kissing someone?”

“Not you too,” I mumbled through a mouthful of paste. I rinsed and wiped my mouth on a towel. “I try to brush after every meal because cavities suck.”

“You’re tense.”

I leaned to the mirror to put on some lip gloss. “I’ve never gone on a spy mission before. I feel like I’m going in to steal top secret documents.”

“You are very pretty, Brazil.”

I smiled back at him in the mirror. “For a trash talking rabbit.”

“No, I mean for a girl.”

“You don’t have to waste your flattery on me. I told you I was going to look for the diary.”

“You won’t let yourself believe it, will you?”

I turned and leaned against the counter. “Believe what?”

“You are an incredible girl.”

My cheeks warmed, and suddenly, I wished guys nowadays were more like him. His words weren’t just some insincere flattery used to get into my pants. He meant what he said, and the way he said it made me feel good.

Mom was at the bottom of the stairs. “Zilly, if you’re talking to your dad, tell him the boys want to go for pizza after you look for cars.”

“It’s not my dad,” I called back down. “I hate when she refers to him as your dad like he’s totally not related to her in any way.”

“Truthfully, he isn’t.”

“You know what I mean.” I headed out of the bathroom but twisted around at the last minute. Sebastian was still there. His eyes looked darker and softer than usual, and his mouth was set in a somber, serious line. “Remember, no promises,” I whispered and trotted down the stairs and out the door.

Hank’s house reminded me of something out of a family sitcom. Everything was clean and orderly with no hint of style or taste. There was a group of his friends hovering around a keg in the kitchen, which he claimed his father had bought for them. Dad must have been as rubber brained as his son.

Two girls joined the party. I’d never seen either of them at school, but they also looked like the type I would avoid if I had seen them. Both of them were wearing tight mini-skirts and tube tops, showing off the tan lines they’d earned today. The only difference between them was one wore blue eye shadow and one wore pink. They greeted me with synchronized sneers.

Hank put a possessive hand on my lower back. I tried to inch away from it without being too obvious. “Guys, this is Brazil.”

“Great volleyball game,” some extra large guy with a tattoo covering most of his massive arm said from behind his paper cup of beer foam.

“Thanks.”

Hank picked up a filled cup from the counter and offered it to me.

“I’m not really into beer. Besides, I drove here tonight.”

Major disappointment inched into Hank’s otherwise expressionless face. “That’s cool.”

It was obvious his plans of getting me drunk were ruined. He swallowed back the cup himself, and it occurred to me that beer might just be my savior tonight. If Hank got drunk enough, it might be easier to go fishing around in his closet.

“So were you on the volleyball team at your old school?” the girl with blue eyelids asked.

“No, my sport was equitation.”

My answer had elicited the puzzled looks I’d expected. “Does that have to do with math?” the same girl inquired.

“OMG, you are stupid,” the girl with pink eye shadow giggled.

“Then what is it?” blue girl snapped to her pink friend.

The girl stood open mouthed for a second then shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it has nothing to do with math.”

“Horses,” I interjected quickly hoping to put an abrupt end to their mind-numbing conversation. “I jumped horses.”

“Oh,” they responded together.

“Cool. Did you ride in a blue bikini?” Hank said with his limitless vocabulary to back him up. A couple of his friends raised their paper cups in a toast to his asinine comment. This was going to be a long night. I hoped they finished off the keg quickly and that beer would not make Hank a bigger ass than he was sober.

The pool table in Hank’s family room kept me from having to converse much with people at the party. As they got drunker, their topics became stupider. I half expected them to start a debate about the earth being flat. Hank was having a hard time standing straight. When his pool stick nearly ripped the green table felt, that was my cue to find the infamous closet under the stairs.

I handed off my stick to the blue girl who had not stopped giggling since she spilled a cup of beer down her shirt. “Which way to the bathroom?” I asked.

Hank’s stick nearly wiped out the glass lamp over the table as he pointed down the hall. “Up the stairs and on your right.”

Pink girl and the guy with the tattoo sleeve were making out at the top of the stairs. Obviously, four more steps to the bedroom were too much. Underneath the stairwell was a triangular opening with a white paneled door. I hoped Hank’s mom’s neatness continued to the closet. It might attract attention if I had to start pulling out skis, umbrellas, and brooms. The two lovers at the top of the stairs were too into each other to notice me, so I opened the door.

I hadn’t met the woman, and she’d raised a horrible son, but I liked her housekeeping style. Everything was neatly tucked away in boxes on shelves. The floorboards were still exposed. I didn’t know much about flooring, but the wood looked old and original. Footsteps plodded down the hall, so I hunched down inside the dark closet leaving the door only slightly ajar. The loud, clumping steps had to be Hank’s.

“Shit, get a room you two. Did you see Brazil walk by?”

There was no answer, only some grunts and moans.

“Fuck it, I need another brewsky,” Hank grumbled and lumbered back to the family room.

Who knew that a keg of beer could be such a lifesaver? I knocked on the wood plank floor beneath me hoping for a hollow sound. They all sounded hollow. More footsteps made me scoot back further in the closet. A board moved beneath my heel. There was a slim gap between the wood planks. I waited for the footsteps to pass, then I pushed my fingertips into the narrow sliver and pulled. The board lifted. I had to reach in blindly, which freaked me out because I was sure there had to be rats below. There was definitely a lot webs. I decided to wipe off them on the bottom of a coat hanging nearby in hopes that it was Hank’s. I pushed my arm in deeper, scraping my bruised flesh on the side of the plank. My fingers brushed something solid, something that wasn’t dust or cobwebs. My hand wrapped around it. I hoped I wasn’t dragging out some fossilized animal carcass.

I blew away the dust and stared down at a discarded piece of wood. No diary. I had ruined my chances with Seth and cozied up to the worst guy at school for a rotted piece of wood. Emily’s diary had no doubt traveled with her to New York. I mean it made sense. What girl would leave it behind no matter how quickly she was whisked away from home? Worst of all, I would have to break the news to my lovesick roommate that he might be stuck in this world forever, never to know if Emily truly loved him.

“Hey, so this is where you’ve been hiding.” Hank’s voice surprised me, and I dropped the piece of wood. He leaned into the closet and was too drunk to think it strange that I was standing inside it. His breath smelled like stale sewer water. Instinctively, I backed out of his stream of breath and bumped into the back wall of the closet. Being wedged between a wall and a drunken caveman was never a good situation.

“Silly me, I got lost on the way to the bathroom.”

His big feet stepped closer, and I held my breath to keep from turning green. “You know what this closet is?”

I shrugged. “A storage place for stuff?” My eyes darted past his shoulder to find my route of escape. It was like trying to find a way around a brick wall. Only there was no way to climb over this one.

His hands grabbed my waist. “This is the make-out closet.” His fingers tightened around me.

“Oh really,” I laughed nervously. “Maybe next time. I need to get going. My mom wanted me home early.”

“Home? No way. You just got here.” His thick chest started pressing against me.

My feet took several steps back but the wall stopped my retreat. The last thing I wanted was to be trapped inside a small space with him.

He leaned to kiss me and being drunk enough to only concentrate on one maneuver at a time, his grip on my waist loosened. I squirmed out from under his puckered lips and slid past him. He whipped around and had to grab the doorway to steady himself.

“Some other time, huh?” I ran to the front door and down the steps secure in the knowledge that his reflexes were too dulled to follow. Now I just had to worry about seeing him at school on Monday. Or maybe this whole night would be erased from his beer soaked memory.

Chapter 15

“You’re home earlier than I expected,” Mom called from the family room as I walked in. The poor, deluded woman thought I’d made new, real friends.

I paused in the doorway. Mom was sitting on the couch surrounded by her furry brood watching a black and white movie.

“They weren’t really my type of people.”

She looked over the back of the couch. “You’ll meet some people who are your type, I’m sure. Was Seth there?”

Seth had obviously caught her fancy. Unfortunately, he’d caught mine too. But now, of course, he hated me. “Nah, he doesn’t hang with these guys. And I told you, he has a girlfriend.”

A clinking noise drifted down the stairs. Mom twisted around. “What was that?”

I scooted to the stairs. “I’m sure it’s just the boys. Remember this old house is full of noises.” In this case, I was sure the noise was coming from an impatient, lovesick ghost. “I’m going to bed since Dad is coming early.” Now that I’d stopped insisting the house was haunted, Mom was no longer watching me with a worried expression. It was all pretty friggin’ ironic.

Sure enough, Sebastian was sitting in my room clanging my silver bracelet against the metal frame of my mirror. “It’s about time,” he said. “Well?”

“Good to see you too.” I plopped onto bed and was stupidly amazed that the movement on the mattress did not disturb his image. On the drive home, I’d gone over the scenario of breaking the news to Sebastian several times. I decided I would tell him and then prepare to duck and cover in case objects started to fly.

I sat up and looked at him. His dark eyes seemed to glitter with hope. “Sebastian, the diary is not there anymore. Emily must have taken it with her.”

He floated quickly across the room to the window. It seemed to be his favorite place in the house and that made sense. If I were trapped inside a house for eternity, I think I would find myself pressed against the window a lot too. My heart sank at the thought of it. The poor guy couldn’t get a break even in death.

“Are you sure you looked in the right place? Were you at the right address?”

“I’m sorry, Sebastian. The address was the same as on your envelopes. And there was only one closet under the stairs. I’m sure it was the right place. Several planks of floor were loose and I was able to lift them. Nothing there but dust and a piece of wood.”

He said nothing for a long moment. His image shrunk down some as he went deeper into his thoughts. All this time, all these years, waiting to discover if Emily had still loved him, and now, without the diary, there was no way to know. He would never rest. I was sad for him but not completely disappointed. It occurred to me that having Sebastian to talk to had taken my mind off of feeling sorry for myself so much.

“Sebastian, Emily’s granddaughter said her grandmother was very fond of you. I’m sure she loved you even after she left town.”

He laughed softly. “Fond. Fond is not love. Fond is what a gardener feels for his rose bushes or an artist for his color palette.” He vanished leaving a coolness in the air that felt like despair.

I scrunched myself into a ball and groaned as my tender arms tightened around my legs. Sleep came fast.

Chapter 16

While Saturday had swung like a pendulum between a high rating and a low, Sunday started out as a two and pretty much stuck there all day. Except when it sank to a mindboggling and rare rating of one.

It began when I trotted merrily down to Dad’s car only to discover that Cynthia had tagged along for the car shopping day. I smiled weakly at her as Dad nervously explained that she needed to stop at some furniture place near the beach to look for a certain coffee table. I didn’t respond and slid into the backseat of his car where I stealthily positioned myself so he could easily see my scowl in the rearview mirror but his little girlfriend couldn’t.

“Your mom seems to like her new job,” Dad said obviously trying to make me forget that he’d brought her along. Now he was using the your word to distance himself from Mom like she did with him.

“Yes, my mom does.” His gray-blue eyes flickered in the rear view as if I’d either pissed him off or hurt him with my sarcasm. I noticed his sideburns were now peppered with silver making him look older and Cynthia ridiculously younger sitting next to him. I started wondering if she really loved him. My dad was handsome, as far as dads go. He had a cool job, and he could crack great jokes, but I don’t think I could ever fall for someone who was so much older.

“I thought we’d look at a hybrid car. That way your gas bill will be low,” Dad said.

Cynthia turned around and flashed her straight, white teeth at me. “Plus, you’ll be doing your part to save the planet.”

My face tightened as I held back the evil smirk that wanted to erupt. “That’s me, Captain America, ready to save the planet.” Cynthia’s smile shrank to a stretched grin, and she turned back to the road. I glanced up at the rear view mirror. Dad’s eyebrows scrunched together with disappointment.

We drove in silence for awhile before Dad attempted another topic of conversation. “So how’s the new house and school?”

I had always been pissed that he had not insisted we stay in Boston. It was as if his family moving a greater distance away gave him the freedom he needed as a new bachelor. “My room is haunted by a heartbroken, 19th century ghost named Sebastian.” I loved how nonchalantly I could say that knowing no one would believe me.

“Very funny, Brazil,” Dad said.

Cynthia, on the other hand, swiveled around under the shoulder belt and gripped the top of the leather seat with long, pink fingernails. “Is it really haunted? I mean it looks like it could be.” Her lashes were long and curled like she’d used one of those eyelash curler things. She blinked wide-eyed with interest at me. I could easily envision her sitting on a couch, painting her toenails, and watching one of those cable shows about some haunting in small town Iowa where the Catholic priest had to come in and exorcise the place because books were flying off the shelves.

“It’s definitely haunted. The guy was murdered by his uncle, and now, he is stuck between worlds.”

She twisted even further around. “I’d heard that that’s why they stick around. Some unresolved conflict.” Cynthia was totally into this. Dad looked ready to turn the car around and drop me back home.

“How’s the new school?” Dad broke in. “Make any new friends?”

I relaxed back satisfied that I’d made somewhat of an ass of Cynthia, at least in my Dad’s eyes. “Tons.”

“Great to hear.” He moved to turn on a music station which was probably his safest bet.

When we got out of the car at the dealership, Cynthia excused herself to restroom. Dad grabbed my arm and turned me toward him. “Brazil, knock it off.”

“Knock what off?” I asked innocently.

“You know what I mean. I know this is a difficult adjustment for you, but Cynthia and I are together. Your mom and I did not raise you to be rude.”

“Fine.” I pulled my arm out of his grasp. “But why did she have to come along today?”

“I already told you why.”

“Right, I forgot. The coffee table.”

His face melted as if when I said the reason out loud, it sounded just as ridiculous to him as it did to me when he stuttered it out this morning. Cynthia returned. We surveyed the lot, successfully dodging any pushy salespeople. There were no hybrids, so we got in the car and moved on. Dad turned the music up louder while we drove.

When the day crashes to a one, it is usually expected. But when something comes out of left field to blast it to a one unexpectedly, it takes time to register. Was it actually a one or was it something that would eventually fade to a two? In this case, it was a solid one for my dad. The jury was still out for me.

“Oh look,” Cynthia pointed to the side of the road, “a vegan, sushi bar.” She leaned over and put her hand on Dad’s shoulder, and I could swear he pulled it away slightly. “That reminds of that little place we found when we were in Hawaii two summers ago.” Even though she seemed pretty clueless, Cynthia froze along with my dad at what she’d just said. Two summers ago, my parents were still married. Now it became crystal clear why my mom had not stopped him from leaving.

I glared up at the rearview mirror. After several minutes, Dad finally got brave enough to look in it. It is amazing how much emotion one can see in someone’s eyes without having to see the rest of the face. The agony and embarrassment in his eyes nearly cracked the mirror.

Cynthia shrank down the seat. I didn’t pull my gaze from Dad’s. It was like we were playing chicken to see who would look away first. He lost. I no longer wanted to look for a car. I just wanted to go home, sit on the couch with Mom, and put my head on her shoulder like I used to do when I was little and she read to me.

“I think that furniture shop is down the street,” Dad’s voice sounded strained as if his throat was sore. We pulled up to an expensive-looking shop. “Cynthia, why don’t you run in and check it out while Zilly and I wait for you.” When I was in trouble for being rude to Cynthia, I was Brazil. Now that he’s in trouble, it’s Zilly.

I totally did not want to talk about it, but it looked like I was trapped in the back seat and would have no choice except to listen to his lame excuses. They began as soon as Cynthia scooted her perky buns out of the car. She seemed more than happy to go.

Dad unbuckled his seatbelt and turned back to face me. “I’m sorry, Brazil. I know you didn’t realize that Cynthia and I were seeing each other before your mom and I split up.”

“It’s fine. I mean what does it matter now? It just explains why Mom didn’t try to stop you from leaving. It was you the whole time. You were the one who screwed things up.” His skin seemed less tight on his face as my words struck him. Embarrassment did that to people.

“You don’t know anything about love yet, Brazil. Things happen. Feelings change.”

Tears beaded on my lashes, and I was pissed that I was crying in front of him. “I know enough about love to know that Mom’s feeling never changed.” I sat forward. “Mom never changed. She’s just as cool and pretty as she ever was. You changed though. You decided that a pair of giant boobs and supple skin was more important than true love. What will you do when Cynthia sprouts crow’s feet? Scour the local high school for a mate?”

My words flew out at lightning speed, and there was no stopping them even though each syllable seemed to stab him like a tiny poisonous dart.

He spun around and jumped out of the car slamming the door so hard, the window slid down. I sobbed into my hands.

Cynthia came back tight lipped and sort of hunched over about five minutes after Dad had returned to the car in silence. No words needed to be spoken. The car shopping excursion was over, and for the moment, Dad and I had exchanged enough words.

Mom stepped out of the house and onto the driveway with a weak smile. “You’re back so

soon,” she said to me as I scooted past her and ran to the house. She stayed outside. I’m sure Dad relayed the whole thing to her but out of earshot of Cynthia so her dainty feelings would be spared.

I sat with my knees pulled to my chest on the living room couch switching channels crazily with the remote.

Raymond and Tyler ran downstairs with freshly washed hair and ironed t-shirts. “I told you they were back,” Raymond said as he ran to the door. Tyler followed but they both stopped hard when they saw Dad’s car leaving the driveway. Mom met their disappointed faces at the door.

“Dad had to go back to Boston suddenly, guys. He said he’ll be back next Sunday to take

you out for miniature golf and burgers.” Their shoulders drooped simultaneously beneath their nicely pressed shirts. The hard pit in my stomach grew along with the throbbing in my head.

“Tell you what, since you both look so nice, I’ll get my purse and we’ll go down to the

pizza parlor for thick crust pepperoni pizzas.”

Raymond swung around. “I’m not in the mood anymore.”

“Come on, Ray, I’ll let you play all the video games you want. And we’ll get a pitcher of

that icy root beer you like so much.”

“I guess.” The sound of his sadness made tears come back to my eyes. I squeezed my legs tighter against me and pressed my face against them.

Mom’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “You come too. You spend too much time alone in this old house.” I didn’t want to go at all, but then I didn’t feel like hanging around here to be Dr. Freud for Sebastian. I had enough issues of my own to deal with.

“I’ll go but I don’t want to talk about anything and half the pizza has to be cheese.”

“Agreed,” Mom said. “And let’s pick up that new cell phone on the way. Which reminds me, some guy named Hank called you three times this morning while you were gone.”

“Figures.” Once a crappy day, always a crappy day.

I slipped into bed that night without a single visit from Sebastian. Might be that he was still contemplating what his uncle had done, or maybe, he sensed my own rotten mood. His nonappearance was just what I needed.

Chapter 17

It took me a moment when my alarm rang to realize what day it was-- Monday. I would have to see them all today, Hank, Seth and Gina. What joy.

My new cell phone had a message as I grabbed it off the charger on the way out the door. The number was Dad’s. I ignored it for now. I wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say. Through the night, I’d kept thinking about the whole thing and realized that I wasn’t any more disappointed in him than when he walked out on us. At least now I knew he left for a reason and not just because he got tired of us. Even if it was a ridiculously shabby reason.

Seth was standing ten feet from our lockers talking to some guys and smiling broadly. His white teeth and dangerous smile lit up the dungeon-like hallway, and my heart sank to my stomach. His long, black hair looked freshly washed and was tucked behind his ears leaving his silver hoops on full display. God, every inch of him was adorable. No wonder Gina had such a tight grip on him. It would be a major heartbreak to lose Seth Dallas.

“Hey, Babe, I tried to call you yesterday.” Hank’s loud voice thundered from behind and caught Seth’s attention. He glanced at me then looked away. It was a short glance, but it was obvious he hated me. I twisted around. Hank had the nerve to put his hand on the side of my waist. I pulled away from it.

“Look, Hank, I don’t think we have anything here. We are total opposites. So let’s just keep it on a casual friend basis.”

He stepped closer. “Don’t you know opposites attract?” He tried to make his voice sound suggestive, but he just sounded lame. He was kind of a pitiful guy once you put the whole picture together. His hand went toward my waist again, and I blocked it with my own hand.

“Well, in this case, they don’t.”

Hank glared down at me. His face sharpened into a mean sneer. “I always knew you were a bitch.”

I put my hands up. “Guilty as charged.” I scurried away before things got uglier. I snuck a sideways peek at Seth. He was watching me too. I had to pat myself on the back for making so many new friends at my new school.

Julie caught me going into chemistry. She was bursting to tell me news. “Did you hear? Seth broke up with Gina. Everyone’s talking about it. Gina is determined to get him back though.”

We threw our backpacks over the backs of our chairs and slid into our seats. I tried to act nonchalant about the news, but in truth, it made me slightly thrilled. I knew I had no chance with Seth anymore, but he was way too good for Gina. “Why do you think he broke up with her?” Not that I believed Julie had any real insight into the Seth and Gina saga, but she was a pro at catching and repeating rumors.

Julie sat back smugly, apparently excited that I had gone to her as an information source. “Supposedly, he’d had it with her games. She was always flirting with everyone and getting him in trouble.”

“Do you think they’ll get back together?”

“Probably. They’ve been together for a long time, and Gina usually gets what she wants.” Julie leaned forward as if she had another juicy nugget of information. “So is it true?”

“What?’ I asked as the teacher began the class. He was one of those teachers who took joy in humiliating students in front of the class if he caught you talking or not paying attention, so we both sat back and clamped shut our mouths. A small piece of paper dropped onto my desk. I unfolded it.

“So are you and Hank an item?”

A small, hysterical laugh escaped my lips. The teacher looked my way, but I stiffened and feigned that he had my complete attention. I wrote back in capital letters. “HELL NO!” Giving the emphatic denial to Julie, the gossip queen, was my perfect opportunity to make sure everyone at the school knew I wanted nothing to do with Hank.

The day was hovering at a neutral five. Gina’s day seemed to be going worse. During the lunch break, Seth and some friends who seemed more his type than the creeps that Gina made him hang with, were sitting along the wall of the quad sipping rainbow colored sports drinks.

Gina stood nearby, making sure she was in Seth’s line of vision, laughing and giggling with a group of people. It was a pathetic display of look at me, look at me, see what you’ve lost. It reminded me of sixth grade when a new cute guy had moved to our school, and my friends and I followed him around at recess, not actually talking to him but staying close enough hoping he would notice one of us and fall madly in love. Our ploy never worked. Gina’s didn’t seem to be working either. Seth didn’t look her way at all. Of course he never looked my way either. It was majorly disappointing but I had to face the fact that Seth was not going to have anything to do with me now that I’d been tainted with Hankness.

Mom was working so I walked to the barn. Julie walked with me part of the way and filled me in on some of the other spicy stuff that had happened last year at school, like one of the senior cheerleaders caught with her short skirt up in the boy’s locker room with the assistant water polo coach. And three of the basketball stars were suspended before a big game for smoking pot in the photography dark room. On top of that, the photography teacher, who Julie was sure was leading a double life as a porn star, had provided the guys with the stuff. For such a small town, it was a colorful, sordid place. Just like a hundred plus years ago when Sebastian’s uncle was plotting sinister things against his wealthy nephew and everyone seemed to ignore it.

The soft snort of horses felt like coming home as I reached the stables. I didn’t see Moses or Trudy but found a message on the whiteboard hanging in the tack room.

Lunge Pipe Dream. Don’t forget the stud chain. Saddle Legend and walk him around the arena for twenty minutes. Ride Dusty too. Make him trot and canter both ways. The new ranch hand starts today. I should be back by the time he arrives, Moses.

I threw on my riding shoes. A brisk sea breeze was blowing on shore and creeping its way through the barnyard, so I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and braced myself for a wild lunge session with Pipe Dream, the circus act.

In the round pen, Pipe Dream circled me like an animal possessed, even with a chain beneath his chin. He’d kicked up a major cloud of dust and was snorting like a dragon in heat when a voice startled me.

“Is Moses here?”

“He should be back in a minute,” I said over my shoulder.

“Brazil?”

I maneuvered my feet around so I could see the person behind me, but the sudden flurry of nerves in my gut already let me know who it was. “Seth? Are you the new stable hand?”

He nodded. “Is that your horse? He looks psycho.”

“He is psycho but he’s not mine. Moses pays me to work some of the horses.”

“So you work here too?”

“I guess since I’m getting paid, it’s work. But working horses is the best work I can think of.”

His hands were deep in his pockets, his shoulders were hunched, and there were dark rings under his eyes like he’d been suffering through some serious shit lately. Maybe he missed his girlfriend. Thinking about him pining over her after their break-up was even worse than thinking about them together as a happy couple.

Pipe Dream kicked out. I yanked the line to settle him down before he ripped my arm off. “Although this particular horse is not that fun.”

I could see Moses approaching from behind. I motioned with my head. “There’s the boss.”

Moses reached the round pen and laughed. “Have you ever seen such a ridiculous animal?”

I smiled. “Some of them are just goof balls on the end of the line.”

Moses turned around and stuck his hand out to Seth. “I’m Moses and I see you’ve met Brazil.”

“I’m Seth.” They walked away.

I took a deep breath, realizing it was the first real intake of air I’d had in the last few minutes. Having a guy who hates you take your breath away is probably not ideal. Now I would have to see him at work. I was trying to decide if this was good or bad.

****

When I walked up our driveway, I braced myself for a ghostly encounter. I had not seen Sebastian in more than a day, mostly because I’d made a point of sticking around Mom and the boys. Even though it wasn’t my fault that the diary was gone, I felt the guilt of failure and tried to imagine myself in Sebastian’s place. It had to be terrifying stuck in one place, the place where your last days were spent in terrible pain both physically and mentally. That thought brought me back to his uncle. There was no doubt in my mind that the horrible man had plotted Sebastian’s death. Talk about a bully. His uncle made Hank look like the Easter Bunny.

I contemplated prying more details out of Sebastian about his illness, his uncle, and his seemingly unexplained death, but for the moment, I decided to let the idea rest.

My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I fished it out and flipped it open knowing full well it was Dad. I couldn’t keep ignoring him.

“Brazil, it’s Dad.”

“Yes, I recognize your voice, Dad. Plus, the little screen on my cell phone read

D-A-D.”

He laughed nervously at my sarcasm. “I’m sorry yesterday went so badly.”

Yesterday? Was he kidding? How about I’m sorry the whole last year went so badly. “I’m sure I’ll recover.” I squished the phone between my ear and shoulder, a feat that was never easy with a razor thin phone, and unlocked the back door.

“Listen, I searched on-line and found a cute hybrid car, which I special ordered for you in that baby-blue color you like. They’re going to install a custom stereo too.” Parental guilt was always good for new things. Mom bought me a new phone because she felt guilty she’d never told me about Dad’s affair, but it was nothing compared to the avalanche of guilt Dad must have been feeling about actually having the affair. I was getting a custom car. Seems like the value of the ease my guilt gift was directly proportional to the amount of guilt being experienced. And that little notion spurred a brilliant idea.

“Actually, Dad, I’ve decided I don’t need a car.” Sebastian popped onto the kitchen table and startled me. I gasped.

“Is anything wrong, Zilly?”

“Nope, nothing’s wrong.” I could hear the sounds of the airport terminal in the background. “Where are you flying to?”

“London. Why don’t you want a car?”

“It’s a small town. Everything here is in walking distance . . . and I want Carrington back instead.” I opened the fridge and reached for the carton of milk. It floated out and up into the air. It hovered above my head. I jumped for it.

“Why does is sound like you’re on a trampoline?”

“Just reaching for the milk.” I scowled at Sebastian who was having what he would probably refer to as a jolly good time watching me struggle to reach the milk. “Do you think we could buy him back from Bridgett?”

“Carrington? I thought you were through with horses.”

“Keep it, you boob,” I said to Sebastian and turned my back on him.

“Huh?” Dad asked.

“Oh sorry, Dad, I was talking to --. Never mind that. I’m working at a local stable now, and I realize I miss riding a lot. I should never have given it up, Dad. Nothing else is the same in my life right now except Mom, the twins, and the pets. I would really love to have that piece of my existence back.”

He got quiet, no doubt from the stab of guilt that shot through him with my last statement. I hadn’t said it to get that reaction. It was the truth.

“Let me talk to the Kents, Zilly. I’ll see what I can do about getting your horse back.”

An ice cold milk carton pressed against my neck. I sucked in a sharp breath and spun around to face Sebastian.

“Zilly, what is going on there? Are you with a boy?”

A short laugh escaped me. “Not technically.” It was the only thing I could think to say.

“I’ve got to go, Dad. I’ve got a ton of homework.”

“I understand, Zilly.” His voice was suddenly distant and sad sounding. My throat tightened.

“Dad,” I said before he hung up.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Safe landing.”

“Thanks, baby. Talk to you later.”

I flipped the phone shut and sort of wished I hadn’t been such a butthead yesterday.

The carton of milk plopped onto the table. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

I glanced up at Sebastian. “No. It’s just that I had problems of my own to deal with, Mr. The World Revolves Around Me.”

“Actually, it is Two Worlds. And they don’t revolve around me. Rather, I revolve around them.”

I rolled my eyes. “OMG, it was just a little sarcasm. Don’t do a whole factual analysis of it.”

“I don’t know this OMG term, but you have been spending an unusual amount of time around your family, which I can only assume means you don’t want to see me.” A glass floated from the cupboard and landed gently on the table.

I poured myself some milk. “I told you I was dealing with some stuff.” I took a long swig then sighed. “Besides, you have ruined my chances with the one guy who I really like at school.”

“I ruined it? How so?”

He is the mortal enemy of the Warner guy. Now he thinks I’m a Hank skank.” I smiled at my newly made up term.

“A Hank skank? Please talk in something that resembles the English language.”

“I am. Seth, the cute guy with the harmonica, dreamy singing voice, and dangerous smile despises Hank Warner. Hank Warner is the thick-necked, Neanderthal who I had to flirt with to get invited to the Warner house so I could go skulking through a closet to search for the--” I stopped myself. No need to open old wounds. Besides, Sebastian seemed in a decidedly better mood this afternoon.

“I see. So now Seth thinks you have aligned yourself with the enemy.”

“Precisely.”  I finished off my glass of milk.

“I am very sorry if I ruined your only chance at true love.” His voice was low and serious.

“I never said that. Boy, you are dramatic. Love isn’t quite as intense as it was back in your day. We break up with someone and then move on.”

“Yes, modern generations have done to love what they’ve done to the English language—made it meaningless and crass.”

“I have to agree with you there. I really am bummed about the whole Seth thing.”

Sebastian floated off the table and peered around my back at my butt. “Yes, you are definitely bummed.”

Chapter 18

Seth’s car was already parked along the dirt road that led to the ranch. The muck cart sat in front of the draft horse’s corral as I headed to the tack room.

“Move your big butt, horse.” Seth’s voice drifted out from the stall. I glanced in and saw only the bottom half of his legs beneath the massive Belgian. “Move.”

“Do you need some help?” I asked climbing through the bars of the paddock. Seth’s head peered up over the wide back.

“He sort of has me trapped back here.” There was a hint of embarrassment and humor in Seth’s tone.

I ducked under the horse’s neck and squeezed between the horse and the wood plank wall. Seth stood right next to me and smiled. I wanted to fall over. It was a great smile even in the smelly moist air of the stall. “Now you’re trapped too. I guess I could have crawled under his neck like that.”

I squeezed past Seth and our bodies brushed together for a second. “No wonder they always make those romance books westerns,” he said suggestively as I slid by.

I raised my eyebrow at him. “Watch and learn. First, don’t ever climb under a horse’s neck unless you know the horse is easy going. Draft horses are usually mellow, and this guy didn’t even look up when I walked in, so I figured he was safe. Second, when a horse is this big, try not to get stuck between it and the wall.”

“’Uh, yeah, I learned that one just a few minutes ago.”

“And third, when you want a horse to move, asking them to move usually does not work.” I put my hands on the horse’s hip and pushed with all my weight. The gelding went off balance and sidestepped his back legs away from us. His massive butt moved with the legs and we were free.

We walked out of the stall. Seth picked up the barrel handles to move it out of the paddock. “Well, that was humiliating.”

“Not as humiliating as that kiss.” There was that charming little blurt out any stupid thing habit.

He lowered the wheelbarrow and looked up at me. “Yeah, I can see now what you mean about bad timing. It’s just… it’s just I’d had it with Gina, and I was so pissed at Hank I wanted to plow my fist through his fat face.”

“O.K., if that explanation is supposed to make me feel better, it doesn’t.”

“Never mind. It’s too hard to explain. You’re right. I’m just an asshole like the rest.” He opened the paddock gate and pushed his cart out.

I left without saying anything else.

Dusty was trotting nicely around the arena when I noticed Seth in the shade of some nearby trees watching me ride. My stomach immediately felt jittery, and I wondered how well this was going to work being at the same place as Seth. I had to convince myself to stop liking him, but I wasn’t sure how to make that happen. It was like convincing yourself not to eat raw cookie dough because it had raw eggs. Delicious things were hard to resist, even if they were bad for you. Just seeing him again was making my gut do somersaults. Maybe I could ask Sebastian’s advice. That idea sounded stupid the second it formed in my head. Advice about love from a hopeless romantic, right.

I finished my afternoon at the barn feeling sore from the riding and uptight about seeing Seth. We managed to avoid each other most of the afternoon, which I was thankful for.

****

Sebastian was drifting around my room looking like a spirit who needed an anti-depressant. “You’re late,” he said harshly.

I sat on my bed to unlace my riding boots then glanced up at him. It always amazed me how much emotion he could show though he was merely vapor. His mouth was tight and his eyes looked incredibly sad.

“I have a job now at the local barn.”

“So you’ll be late a lot?” A hint of desperation laced his words.

“It’s just a few hours after school. That boy I like, the one I blew it with when I had to cozy up to his enemy, he works there too. I didn’t know it until after I’d accepted.”

“Interesting.” Was that jealousy I was hearing?

“It’s not all that interesting really. It’s a big place, so we don’t have to see too much of each other.”

“Right.”

I pushed my boots under the bed. “Are you going to amaze me with one word answers all evening because I’m tired and I want to change into sweats.”

He swept his hand in front of him and bowed formally before disappearing.

I dug a pair of sweatpants out of my drawer. “Moody, moody, moody.”

One of my textbooks flew across the room and smacked the opposite wall before dropping to the ground. I shook my head. “And overly sensitive,” I yelled into the air and then prepared to duck if necessary. But nothing else moved in the room, and Sebastian did not reappear for the rest of the night.

Chapter 19

My school days now consisted of angry scowls and grunts from Hank, complete avoidance from Seth, and a constant flow of gossip from Julie. She was a better talker than listener, which was probably why she didn’t have a crew of friends around her. I watched the clock all day waiting for school to end so I could get to the barn.

I was getting used to walking to the barn. Most of the road was shaded by huge trees and since the stables sat on the side of the cove where there were few houses or businesses, there was almost no car traffic. Now that I wasn’t getting a car, I toyed with the idea of getting a bike. I was still contemplating what kind of bike to get when a car drove up behind me and slowed. I turned around with a smile sure that it had to be Seth. It was Hank and two of his fat-headed friends.

Hank drove up along side of me. I stared straight ahead and kept walking thinking this was definitely not the best situation while, at the same time, convincing myself that he was just a fool who was basically harmless. At least that’s what I hoped. The stables were still a mile away so I picked up my pace.

“Where’re you headed, sweetheart?” What normally would have been a term of endearment sounded like nails on a chalkboard coming from his mouth.

“I’m going to work.”

“I heard you were working for that old geezer, Moses. My bros and I have decided to come watch you bounce up and down on the horses.”

“Go home, Hank. You’re not coming to the stables.”

The car sped up and turned toward the side of the road, stopping directly in my walking path. Hank threw the car in park and jumped out. His buddies followed.

My heart sped up. I glanced around for some other sign of life. The road was deserted.  I made a wide berth around the car and broke into a run. Footsteps pounded the dirt road behind me. A big hand grabbed my arm and spun me around. I was face to face with Hank.

“What kind of game are you playing, bitch?”

I looked straight up into his face. “No game. I hate your guts. Simple enough for you?”

His grip tightened on my arm. I glanced down at his hand and sneered back up at him.
“Let go of my arm, or I’ll make sure you get expelled from school.” I used my free hand to fish the phone from my pocket, but his buddy grabbed it from me.

Hank pulled me against his chest. “Just try and get me expelled. My dad is on the board.”

“Is that the same dad who buys kegs of beer for his teenage son and friends?”

“Yep.”

“Then I guess we know where you inherited your tiny, worthless brain.” His grip tightened again and I winced. In the distance, car tires ground over the rough road. They got closer.

Hank looked over my head. “No fucking way, is that Dracula?” He pushed me away from his chest. “What the hell is he doing here? You two together now?”

“Seth works at the barn too.” I couldn’t see Seth’s car, but I heard it slow.

With Hanks’ attention momentarily diverted by the arrival of his mortal enemy, I seized the opportunity and kneed the creep in the groin. He slammed me to the ground and doubled over with pain. By the time he’d caught his breath, I’d scooted out of his reach and Seth had stepped out of his car.

Seth walked up and put out a hand for me. I took it and he wrenched me to my feet. “You O.K?”

I nodded.

Hank’s friends grabbed hold of Seth’s arms. With alarming speed for a guy who had just taken a hit to the family jewels, Hank’s fist flew into Seth’s face. Blood spurted from his lips. I jumped on Hank and scratched whatever I could get my fingernails into. I think it was his chin but I didn’t care. I just wanted to do damage. He threw me off like I was a gnat. He drew back his fist ready to slam Seth again. I threw myself between them. His knuckles caught me in the ribs. This time I doubled over in a pain that made it hard to breathe.

Through my fog of agony, I heard one of Hank’s friends speak. “Dude, someone’s coming. I think it’s the old man on one of his horses. Feet ran past me and car doors slammed. Hank’s car skidded in a circle and raced down the road.

I straightened slowly. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.”

Seth was blotting the blood from his lip with the hem of his shirt. “Crazy girl, why’d you jump in there like that?”

“I was afraid he was going to smash your face again. That would be a waste of a really great face.”

He smiled and grimaced at the pain in his mouth. “Shit that hurts.” He walked up and put an arm around my shoulder just as Moses reached us.

Moses peered down the road at the car. “Was that the Warner kid?”

“The one and only,” I said. “I told him I’d get him expelled, but apparently, his father’s on the board so my threat was kind of weak.”

Moses squinted as Hank’s car disappeared from view. “Well, my brother is the president of that board, and he’s no friend of Warner’s. I think I’ll give him a call later.” He stared down at us from Legend’s back. “You two had better get back in that car and come down to the house so Trudy can fix you up with some ice.”

I climbed into Seth’s car like a hundred year old lady. He craned his neck to see his lip in the mirror. “Great, I look like I had my lips injected.”

I laughed then realized it made huge bolts of pain shoot through me. I grabbed my stomach. “Ouch, don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry.”

“Both of you have a seat on the couch,” Moses said. “Trudy’s in the kitchen. We’ll fix you up a couple of ice packs.”

I sat on one side of the sofa and Seth sat at the opposite end. We both looked around the room in silence as if the décor interested us and talking to each other didn’t.

Seth finally broke the silence. “So are you involved with that jerk or what?” His lip was swollen and there was blood smeared across his chin, but everything about him was still incredibly appealing.

I stared at him. If my ribs hadn’t hurt so badly, I would have lifted the pillow next to me and thrown it at his face. “Seriously? You can actually sit there with your gigantic lip and ask me that?” I sat back slowly, wincing the whole time. “I mean isn’t it obvious? Hank and I are madly in love.”

“What the hell am I supposed to think?” He pressed his hand to his lip for a second. “Crap that hurts.” He lowered his hand. “You were totally coming on to him at the party.”

I scrolled back to the beach party in my mind. I hardly had to try to get Hank to invite me to his house. The guy was a blob of desperation. “We were playing a volleyball game. You act like I was climbing all over him.”

Moses walked out with bags of ice. Trudy followed with a look of worry that resembled an expression of my mom’s.

“So what does the Warner boy have against you two?”

I took the bag of ice and slid it under my shirt, pressing it gently against my skin. “Geez, that’s cold.” I peered up at Moses and Trudy. “It’s not that bad, really. I’ll be able to ride in a few minutes.”

Trudy scooted in front of Moses and sat down on the coffee table across from me. “Nonsense. The horses will be fine with a day off. Now, why did that wretched boy attack you?”

It was happening again. The true explanation of my involvement with Hank was a little too bizarre to tell people. I had to come up with a baloney explanation quick. “I called the guy a lump of sh--  a lump of crap at school the other day.” That part was at least true, although it was definitely not the reason Hank was so pissed at me. In fact this whole fiasco was Sebastian’s fault, he and his Emily obsession.

“Hank has hated me since grade school,” Seth piped up. He handed Trudy the ice pack. “Thanks, I think I’ll get to work now.”

“Are you still up to it?” Moses asked.

“Yeah, it’s just a swollen lip.” He stood and walked out.

Moses watched him leave. “He looks a bit shaky. I think I’ll go out and help him.”

“Do you think there’s any bruising?” Trudy asked. “You might have broken some ribs. Maybe we should report this whole incident to the police.”

I shook my head. “This was my fault. I jumped in front of Hank’s fist. He meant to hit Seth. They had a fight not that long ago in school. I guess there’s still a lot of bad blood between them.”

Trudy smiled. “You like Seth, don’t you?”

I looked at her wide eyed then smiled back. “He’s pretty darn cute.”

“I’ll say.”

“And I guess you could say he sort of came to my rescue out there.”

Trudy winked. “A girl likes to be rescued every once in a while, even us tough cowgirls. Although it sounds like you might have returned the favor out there.” She looked pointedly at the ice pack on my ribs.

“Yeah, I guess I did.” That’s when I realized that when I saw Seth getting hurt, I wanted to do anything I could to protect him. I had it bad for the guy. My feelings for him went way beyond anything I’d ever felt for Blake or any guy for that matter. Shit, it must be love. The whole thing made me think of Sebastian.

“Do you have a picture of your Grandma Emily when she was young?” I asked out of the blue.

“I might. I have a chest filled with some of her old things. It’s down in the basement.” She shot me a puzzled look. “Those letters must have really gotten your curiosity flowing. You’re sitting on the couch with a bag of ice on your ribs, and you’re thinking about my grandmother.”

“His letters were pretty intense. It makes me curious what kind of girl she was. I mean he was so crazy about her, she must have been very special.”

“I believe she was. And beautiful too. She had many suitors, but I do think the Middleton boy was her particular favorite. At least that’s what I’ve heard.” She stood. “If you’re up to it, we could go down to the basement and look in the chest for a picture.”

I jumped off the couch, completely forgetting my ribs. “Ouch. Too fast.”

Trudy frowned. “That horrid boy. Moses will call his brother tonight to see if something can be done about the bully.” She put out her hand for me to take. “Let’s take a little trip into history.”

We climbed downstairs to a basement that was your typical musty smelling, dingy, cramped space where the water heater and electrical box took up one wall and unused old stuff was piled against the other.

An old chest, complete with a brass nameplate and hand carved flowers, stood at the front of the pile. “It’s actually a beautiful old chest. I just don’t have any place to put it in my room.” The light in the basement flickered weakly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been down here. That old light bulb is so covered with dust, it’s a wonder it works at all.”

I helped Trudy lift the lid. Knitted shawls, linen handkerchiefs, and a set of hair brushes with a handheld mirror were neatly stored inside. Tucked in along one side was a parasol.

“The parasol-- I wonder if it’s the one Sebastian pulled from the dog’s mouth?” My question came without thinking, like my words so often do.

Trudy’s forehead crinkled as she looked up at me. “What parasol is that, dear?”

“Oh, I mean the parasol looks like something--the letters,” my shoulders relaxed. “Sebastian Middleton described the day they met in one of his letters,” I lied. “He wrenched Emily’s parasol from a dog’s mouth.”

“Really? How marvelous. I would really love to see those letters.”

I swallowed. Man lies could really get you into some deep crap. “Sure.”

“Brazil, keep your hand on the lid so it doesn’t slam shut on me.”

I grabbed hold of the top and Trudy leaned inside. “Now, there are a few books and I think there are some pictures down here too. Tiny woman that she was, she was nearly swallowed up by the chest as she leaned in further digging beneath the shawls and linens. “Here we are.”

She came up and brushed back the hairs that had fallen from her bun. She dropped something back into the chest and pulled an envelope from inside an old book. Then she returned the book to the chest as well. She plucked out a picture from the envelope. It was one of those faded, brownish-toned photos of a group of girls.

Trudy moved under the dim light bulb and I followed. She squinted at the photo. “This was a photo from the school she’d attended.” Her finger pointed to one of the girls in the top row. “And this is my grandmother, Emily. She must have been around fourteen in this photo.”

I pressed my face closer but it was hard to see her. The one thing that could be seen clearly was her bright smile. It took up half her face and it was perfect. “She looked incredibly happy here.”

“I think she was quite spunky for those days.” Trudy laughed. “From what I hear, she gave my great-grandfather quite a few gray hairs.” Trudy looked at the photo again. “I’m sorry I don’t have a better picture, but back then photos were very expensive so very few people had them taken. And the quality was not very good either, I’m afraid.”

We returned to the chest to put the picture back. That is when I looked down at the books she’d placed back inside. The top one was bound in leather and the name Emily was carved into it along with a vine of ivy. A tiny brass lock sealed it shut. I nearly fell forward into the chest as I stared down at it. “Is that her diary?” I asked weakly.

Trudy reached in, picked up the book, and turned it over in her hands a few times. “I believe it is. I’ve never looked inside.”

My throat went completely dry as my mind raced to figure out a plan to get my hands on the diary. “Do you think I could read it?” I decided on the straightforward approach. “I—I mean, the letters have been so interesting. I would love to know how Emily felt about Sebastian. You know-- if she returned the affection and all.”

Trudy paused for a minute, considering my request. She smiled and handed it to me. “Just be sure to return it. Oh, and I want a full summary of what you find.”

That was it. No flirting around with the worst guy in town, no pissing off the best guy in town, no skulking around a stranger’s closet. Just like that, I had Emily’s diary in my hand. Man, did I have news for my transparent friend tonight.

****

Leaning over to take off my riding boots took some effort. I found that it was less painful if I held my breath. I called Mom to pick me up and told her I had tripped and fallen on a saddle rack. I saw no reason to get her fired up about Hank. I figured the incident would go away faster if I dropped it. Hank was definitely the revenge type, and I didn’t need him plotting against me. Or Seth, for that matter.

Sebastian appeared while I was untying my laces. “You’re not as late tonight. You must have missed me.”

I peered up at him with a lifted brow. “Yes, Mr. Delusional, that is why I’m home early. But I do have some interesting news for you.” I straightened and winced at the pain.

Sebastian floated closer. “You’re hurt. Did you fall from the horse?”

“Not exactly.” The worry in his voice made me smile. Emily really missed out on not marrying him. What girl didn’t dream about having some guy worry about her? “I got in the way of a flying fist.”

The air around his image chilled instantly. “Who was it?”

“Do you want to hear my interesting news or not?”

“I want to know who hurt you?”

“What are you going to do? Challenge him to a duel?”

His form shrank back in humiliation and I felt horrible about what I’d said. “I’m sorry, Sebastian. I shouldn’t have said that. I think it would have been wonderful to have an honorable, caring, brave guy like you as a boyfriend. Emily really lost out when she moved to New York.”

The expression on his face cleared. My words had lifted his mood.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” I paused a moment for dramatic effect and then whipped the journal out from beneath my sweatshirt.

Sebastian’s image wavered between crystal clear and fuzzy as he stared down at the diary in my hand. “That’s it. That’s Emily’s diary.”

I fingered her etched name. “Yeah, I kinda figured it was since her name is on it. Her granddaughter, Trudy, had it all this time. It was in a trunk with some of Emily’s things.” I grinned up at him. “She kept the parasol. The one you pulled from the dog’s jaw. It was in the trunk with the diary.”

His face showed a look between hurt and hope as he contemplated the idea that she’d kept the parasol that brought them together.

“I don’t want to damage the diary because I need to return it. I wonder if I can pick the lock with a paper clip.” I put the journal on my bed and walked to my desk to rummage for a paper clip. I found one, straightened it into one thick wire, and turned back to the bed. Sebastian had not moved, but he continued to stare down at the journal.

“This should work,” I said quietly. My nerves were starting to fray. What if the pages held bad news for Sebastian? Could ghosts have nervous breakdowns?

I poked the end of the clip into the tiny keyhole and swiveled it around. The faint scent of almond and the cool, slick feel of wintergreen surrounded me. Then he flashed to the window. “I don’t want to know what’s inside. I could not bear it if she no longer loved me. I beg you, don’t open it.”

I pulled the clip from the hole doubting that I’d made any headway at all in budging the lock. “I flirted with the absolute worst guy at school. Let me amend that, the worst guy on the east coast, possibly the western hemisphere, so I could get into his house and retrieve this diary while all the time it was sitting in a trunk in the attic of my employer. The one guy who I think I really could have liked, now mistrusts me for it. I played volleyball in my freakin’ bikini, ate cold hot dogs, and made my arms black and blue. Now you don’t want to know what Emily felt?” I tossed the book onto my nightstand and plopped back on my pillow. “You’re a very unstable ghost.”

He darted back to the bed and hovered over my nightstand. “Why don’t you read it, then you can tell me if it’s good news or bad news.”

“I’m not really that interested. Besides, I don’t want you going all wiggy on me if it’s bad news. I’ve seen how you get.”

“You’re right. I’ve been rather irrational about this whole thing.” He disappeared. Two seconds later he popped back into the room. “But you could read it and not tell me anything. I could just tell by your expression. You aren’t very good about concealing your emotions.”

I looked at him for awhile as he drifted in air above my floor. “What is my expression telling you right now?”

“You are perturbed by my presence.”

“Very much so.”

Sebastian vanished.

I glanced over at the shriveled, worn diary. I could open it and take a quick peek without him knowing. Right. That was going to happen.

I sat up and went to the mirror where I’d hung the small key from the bookshelf drawer next to Sebastian’s picture. I carried the key and book to the window seat, and, with some effort, snapped the stubborn lock. The pages were dry, fragile, and filled with delicate, girlish script. Several pictures fell out when I opened the back cover. One was a faded brown picture of a girl and boy in front of a shop. They were holding ice cream cones. I knew instantly the tall, handsome guy with the dark curls and black coat was Sebastian. And the girl, of course, had to be Emily. Even though they both wore the somber stiff expressions common in pictures from those days, she looked perky and blonde. Definitely a girl who knew how to have fun. And Sebastian looked proud, incredibly proud, to be standing there with ice cream melting down his hands, and his one sweet love standing beside him. I sensed Sebastian behind me.

“I remember that day,” Sebastian’s words drifted over my shoulder. “It was intolerably warm, and we’d taken such a long walk, we decided ice cream would be the perfect end for it. Peach. That was her favorite flavor.”

“She looks like the peach type.” I fingered the picture. “She looks like someone I would have been friends with.”

“And she, you.” He tore his gaze away from the picture and looked out at the sea. There was a long hesitation before he spoke again. “Are there any entries in July or August of 1880?”

“You’re sure you’re ready for me to look?”

He nodded. “I’ve been ready for a century.”

Because the pages were incredibly brittle, I turned them gingerly. The entries began on January 7, 1880. “Do you want to read some of the earlier entries or skip right to the good stuff?”

Sebastian’s image bounced up and down slightly like an anxious kid waiting for a gift. “How do you know it’s good stuff? Do you know something already?” There was so much hope in his voice, I wished I’d used a different phrase.

“By good stuff I meant the stuff that interests you the most.”

“Then why did you not say that? I didn’t meet Emily until March of 1880.”

I flipped carefully forward in the book to March then stopped. “Do you mean to tell me you only knew her for six months and you were convinced she was your soul mate?”

“Six months was a long time back then. People didn’t live as long. We had to move quickly with everything. Even love. Besides, I knew she was my soul mate the day I’d met her, when I pulled her parasol from the dog’s teeth.”

I skimmed for the word parasol in her March entries and finally found a small passage. “Met a lovely boy today. He saved my parasol from a dog’s jaw. He had the most amazing eyes. The boy that is—not the dog.” I laughed. “I totally would have been friends with Emily if we’d lived at the same time.”

Sebastian paused as though he were pondering that for a moment, then the pages suddenly flipped forward to the last third of the book. “Go to July.”

His impatience was kind of cute and kind of annoying all at the same time. Emily had been neat and organized with her entries. “I wanted to read the entry about you nibbling her earlobe,” I teased. “Wasn’t that the month before?”

Sebastian’s image tightened and was crystal clear. “And why, praytell, would you want to read about that?” His anxiousness was palpable, and I was probably crazy for messing with him.

I shrugged. “I guess I was just wondering if you were any good at it.” I returned to the book and suddenly a tickling sensation brushed the skin behind my ear sending a shiver up my back. My gaze shot up to him.

“Well, am I any good?”

My face felt hot suddenly. “H-how did you do that?”

He coasted into a relaxed position on the seat next to me. “I guess the answer is yes.”

I decided to erase the cockiness from his aura. “July 21, 1880,” I read quietly, “My love, why do you not write? What has happened?”

Sebastian shot across the room and back circulating an icy breeze around the room. “But I did write. Why did she not receive my letters?”

“Maybe it never got mailed, or maybe it was delivered to the wrong address.”

He coasted back and forth across the rug. Who knew a ghost could pace. “But I posted the letters myself.” He dashed to his stack of letters and an envelope levitated toward him. “That is the correct address. I’m sure of it.”

“When did your illness begin? Maybe you were confused about mailing the letters.”

He paused for a long time staring at his own letters. Then he moved to Emily’s journal and read the entry again. “The headaches began that summer. Just after the 4th of July picnic on the beach. It was the last time I saw her.”

Sebastian looked up at me, his dark eyes swirling with emotion. “My uncle posted the letters after that because the sunlight made my headaches worse. I hardly left the house once they began.”

A profound silence gripped the room. Sebastian stared out the window now like he always did when something important invaded his thoughts. I knew the uncle had been up to no good, but until now, I think Sebastian had refused to face the truth.

“Your letters never reached Emily because your uncle never sent them. And you were too sick to see that they reached her. He saw to that too.” I turned the brittle pages and marveled at the beautiful handwriting. Unlike Sebastian’s letters, not every entry in the journal was about their relationship. Emily, who was apparently a bit of a rebel for those days, had had some pretty wild arguments with her dad. I didn’t take time to read through them, but it sounded like he wanted her to move to New York, something about a Mr. Griffin and his thriving business. Sebastian was hovering over my shoulder, so I skimmed over the entries to look for his name. I found it on the August 17, 1880 entry.

Sebastian, my mind darts back and forth feverishly like a lightning bug caught in a jar. You are vile. You are lovely. You are cruelty. You are passion. You are torture. You are poetry. You are hell. You are heaven. Where have you gone, my spoiled fantasy?

I glanced up at Sebastian. His image blurred like it always did when he sank deep into a mood. “She’s good,” I said.

The book suddenly slammed shut. “My letters were never sent. My uncle never posted them as he’d insisted.”

It took a lot for this guy to face reality, but it seemed that was finally happening. “Maybe your uncle didn’t want you to marry Emily. Or maybe he didn’t want to encourage her to visit so she could see how sick you were. Sebastian, I believe your uncle had something to do with your mysterious illness. I think you died because you were poisoned.”

In an instant he was gone, only a chilly swirl of air left behind. I convinced myself not to read any further in the journal. For one thing, it had already been an intense day, and I was totally beat, emotionally and physically. The more compelling reason not to read further was that Sebastian was already acting unstable. I didn’t think I could deal with his reactions anymore tonight.

I tucked the journal into the nightstand drawer and glanced around the room once before shutting off the lights. The room was still. My ghost had gone off to sulk by himself wherever it was that tortured souls go when they have stuff to contemplate.

Chapter 20

My ribs still ached as I buttoned my jeans before school. I returned to my room to find Sebastian looking even more brooding than I’d seen him before. He floated over the bookcase, one of his letters hovered beneath his glower.

“I’d forgotten that I wrote this.” A sad laugh came from his lips. “’Tis astounding what one can push out of the mind when one wants to ignore the truth.” The letter coasted to the ground. I walked over, picked it up, and unfolded it.

The writing was messy and intense. There were huge splotches of black ink as if he’d written it so quickly, he hadn’t taken the time to wipe off the extra ink.

October 17, 1880

Beloved,

The ripe nectar of whiskey, I have found, can accelerate a self-made oblivion. My slow destruction comes smoothly with each upturned bottle. The loathsome contrivance that permeates the walls of this horrid prison leaves my head exploding with a pain that only drink can soften.

Your frivolous, hostile heart will never know of my fate. My uncle, the wretched liar, provoked me with word of your recent betrothal. Vexation startled me from my trance, and my fist shot through his face. The blood dripped an intricate, nearly poetic pattern on the rug. But the icy shackles melted the pleasure of my reckless revenge. Confined now in this house, in this dungeon of hell, I shall die slowly of this inextinguishable burning in my heart or quickly from the murderous demons in my head.

Sebastian

A painful lump formed in my throat as I folded the letter back up. I could no longer look at the erratic, painful ink marks. Sebastian hovered next to me. I stared at the yellowed letter for a moment then looked up at him. “You knew she was engaged to another. Why didn’t you say so?”

Sebastian’s face wavered in the sunlight. “I’d blocked it from my memory. Or my mind was so destroyed by then, my memory had been erased.”

“The shackles,” I said quietly, “did your uncle have you arrested after you hit him?”

He sunk to the floor and leaned against the bookshelf. “He chained me to my bed like a prisoner, but he never called the police. It was harsh of me to hit him so hard, but he told me so coldly, so nonchalantly, knowing full well that the news would devastate me.”

“Yes, because he was a calculating, old bastard. And he couldn’t call the police because they might suspect something was happening in this house.”

“There was a rich businessman in New York. Emily was forced into a betrothal with him. Her father sent her away as far as he could from Pelican Bay.” He faded out of view.

Mom drove me to school. She tried to make conversation but I could only respond with nods and noncommittal one word answers. I kissed her on the cheek, told her I loved her, and slid out of the car with my backpack. I’d been so busy complaining about the divorce, I’d completely overlooked that I had two awesome parents who loved me no matter what happened between them. Sebastian had lost that love and attachment when he lost his parents. He was my age when he discovered that he had no one to trust or count on. But he still managed to love someone else so much that he would have done anything to have her.

Hank’s giant head poked above the crowd in the hallway. I walked past him without looking his direction. He did the same. I was relieved. I had no idea whether Moses had made that call to his brother or not, but it seemed or at least I hoped it meant that Hank would never say a word to me again. Julie was not at school, and I was glad for it. I wanted nothing more today than to be alone with my thoughts.

I found a far and deserted corner of the quad at lunch and sat with my peanut butter sandwich.  A shadow loomed over my shoulder and I looked up. Seth was looking down at me. “How are the ribs?”

“I’ll live,” I said. His lip was still swollen but it actually made him look even more adorable if that was possible.

“You look like you want to be alone.” He turned to leave.

“Thank you,” I called to him.

He stopped and turned back to me.

“For what?”

I shrugged. “Just thanks for being you. I haven’t missed my old life as much as I thought. I think it’s mostly because of you.” I turned away from him now because I was on the verge of tears. But I was glad I’d said it. Emily missed out on the love of her life and while it was clear that she knew Sebastian was being ripped from her life, she could do nothing about it. Love and heartbreak were the harshest part of life, and Mom had been suffering through it alone without my support. The opposite in fact. I’d been a wretched, selfish daughter. Seth sat down next to me. We didn’t say a word for a moment.

I swallowed back the lump in my throat and smiled up at him. “I could teach you to ride.” I looked down at my half eaten sandwich. “If you’re interested, that is.”

“That would be totally cool. I’ve always wanted to learn.” A smile spread across his face and I wondered if there was such thing as love at first smile because I realized then that I had been crazy about this guy from day one.

****

“Isn’t that Seth?” Mom asked as she picked me up from the stables.

“Yep, that’s Seth.”

“Interesting,” Mom said sounding pleased.

I watched the side of her face as she drove down the road. “Mom, sorry I’ve been such a self-absorbed beast this last year.”

She looked at me and reached for my hand. I placed my hand in hers. “You are not a beast, Brazil. You’re my baby and, as far as I’m concerned, you’re perfect.”

We drove in silence the rest of the way home.

Tyler and Raymond were sitting at the table pretending to work, but the loud laughter we’d heard before walking in the door told us there was more playing than working.

“Get to work, boys,” Mom said. “Brazil, can you make a salad while I fry some chicken?”

“After I change and clean up. I smell like horse.”

“And how is that different than any other day?” Raymond asked. More laughter.

“Brats.” I raced up the stairs and sensed that Sebastian was in my room even before I’d opened the door. My sixth sense had become extra sharp when it came to this particular ghost. I knew when he was near, when he was angry, when he was hurt. And now, after a visit to the computer lab at school today, how he died.

The journal floated in front of him. But something was different. His image was fainter and it wavered more than usual. He looked up when I walked in.

“She had tried to visit me,” he said quietly. He focused back on the diary. “On September 13th, she came here to the house. I was in too much pain to know a visitor had come.” Suddenly, the page he’d been reading ripped out of the diary and crumpled before flying across the room. “My uncle did not allow her inside.”

I walked closer to his waning image. The vapor surrounding him was smaller and denser than before. “That’s because he didn’t want anyone to discover he was poisoning you. I looked up poisoning today in the computer lab. It was cyanide. That’s why there’s a hint of almond fragrance around you. He was giving you small amounts in your tea so it looked like you were sick or going crazy. He also kept the letters from Emily knowing that the heartbreak you suffered would be hard to distinguish from the horrible way you were feeling.”

I stepped closer to his image and put my hand up. He raised his too. It had been a large, strong hand at one time. The air between our palms was frigid yet alive with static charges. “Emily loved you. You were not crazy or sick. You were murdered for your trust fund.” The whole thing sounded so tragic when spoken aloud. A lump formed in my throat. My extra sense kicked in, and I knew I wouldn’t see him again. He was fading. The energy around him was diminishing.

“My incredible Brazil,” his voice drifted into the air of my room and swirled around me. His face looked clearer for an instant and he looked sharply at the door to the hallway. His eyes focused back on me. “Your mother needs you.”

“I know. I will try to be more supportive of …”

“No, I mean now.” They were the last words he spoke before vanishing completely.

I plopped down hard on my bed and wondered how often I would try and convince myself that this had all been a dream. But I had the letters and the journal to remind me that it wasn’t.

“Brazil!” Mom’s voice sounded shrill.

“I’m coming.” I changed out of my jeans and ran downstairs to the kitchen. It was empty and chicken was burning on the stove. “Mom, the dinner is burning.” I turned off the heat and followed the sound of the TV to the family room. “The chicken is ruined, and you guys are watching TV.” Something was wrong.

Tyler sat on the floor resting against Mom’s legs, and Raymond was clutched tightly to her side. A big red banner crossed the TV screen reading BREAKING NEWS. The cameras were at an airport in London. There were dozens of emergency vehicles lining up.

I walked to the couch. Mom’s face and lips were white. Tyler had tears streaming down his face. Mom grabbed my hand as I sat down. “Dad’s plane has a large hole on the bottom. They are waiting for it to arrive.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and her eyes did not leave the screen.

My hand squeezed hers, and my throat went painfully dry as I watched the screen. I wondered how many other people were sitting in front of their TV watching what might be the death of hundreds of people. Then I wondered what might be going through Dad’s head at this moment knowing the fate of those people rested on his shoulders. “Dad is the best pilot in the world,” I whispered. “Safe landing, Dad.”

The cameras panned on a small spot in the air. The plane was heading to the runway. As it neared, we all gasped, including the news reporter. A third of the belly had ripped open, but it came in with amazing steadiness. Minutes seemed like hours as the plane slid to a final halt on the runway. When it stopped, we jumped and cheered and cried along with the people on the ground at the airport. They poured foam all over the plane, and the escape chutes were assembled at the exits. Dad’s name and picture were flashed on the screen and we cheered again.

The first passengers appeared at the emergency exit doors. They were holding each other and smiling and waving to everyone on the ground. Our phone rang, startling all of us from the crazy energy in the room. Mom jumped up and grabbed it.

“Hello.” It was all she said before she broke into shoulder racking sobs. “I always said you were one hell of a pilot, Greg.” She looked around at us.

Tyler ran up to her. “Let me talk to him.” He grabbed the phone from her. “That was awesome, Dad. They should make a video game with you as the hero.”

He handed me the phone. “Dad wants to talk to you.”

My hands were still shaking from the terror turned excitement. “Hi Dad.”

“I guess all those times you wished me a safe landing finally paid off.”

All I could do was cry like a goofball into the phone.

“Tell everyone I love them. It’s almost time for me to jump into the chute, and I think Cynthia is trying to call me.”

“Safe landing,” I choked the words out before he hung up. I put my arm around Mom’s shoulder. “He called you before Cynthia.”

She rested her head on my shoulder. “We go back a long way, your dad and I. That can never be lost.”

That evening we nibbled on burnt drumsticks and laughed at each other’s stupid jokes. It took us a long time to come down from the adrenaline rush especially with the barrage of phone calls.

We were sitting in the family room, vegging out on some dull comedy, when my phone vibrated. It was Jenny. We’d only written three brief messages to each other since I’d left Boston.

“Hello,” I said almost as if I were talking to a stranger rather than someone I’d known forever.

“Wow. That was something. Everyone over here is buzzing about your dad being a hero.”

“Yeah. He’s something.” Significant pause.

“I dumped Blake. He was getting on my nerves.”

“He’s like a hollow chocolate Santa. Scrumptious on the outside but---”

“—empty on the inside,” Jenny finished my sentence. Something she used to do all the time. There was another pause. “I don’t know why I hooked up with him the first place. I guess you were leaving, and I thought if I latched on to him, it would be like holding on to a piece of you.”

My throat ached and I swallowed. Shit, I was going to need therapy after this night.

Jenny sighed on the other end. “Either that or it was my childish way of getting back at you for leaving.”

I moved off the couch and sat on the bottom step. “Definitely wasn’t my choice.”

“I know.” Another pause. “Christy is driving me nuts. She’s like a clingy polyester sweater with static electricity.”

I laughed.

“Zilly, I have a car now. I thought I’d come visit you. I have a billion things to tell you.”

“If you have a billion then I have a gazillion,” I said. Lex, the fat cat, came to rub himself around my legs. I reached forward and scratched behind his ears. “Why don’t you come next Saturday and stay the night. I’m working at a local barn but I’m off at noon.”

“Can’t wait.”

“I’ll email you directions. Bye.”

I snapped shut the phone and continued to pet Lex. He was purring as if he thought his niceness might earn him an extra bowl of kibble. Jenny was coming. I wondered how much I should tell her. I had letters and an old diary to show her, but I decided to leave out the ghost part. Even though, of anyone, Jenny would believe me.

Chapter 21

I was at the barn by eight on Saturday lunging horses and riding Dusty. Not that I was waiting for him, but Seth showed up at nine. And, of course, I was waiting for him. He’d been flirtatious and friendly all week, although we’d avoided each other at school, almost like we were living a clandestine second life at the barn, which had nothing to do with our other lives at school.

Gina seemed to be hooking up with some disgusting looking senior with a shaved head and tattoo of barbed wire circling the base of his neck. Perfect for her. Of course, she still seemed to be wherever Seth was whether it was near his locker or out in the quad. From what I could see, he was totally over her. Or at least that’s what I was hoping. Oh, and because of my cool dad, I was sort of famous at school for the rest of the week until the novelty wore off.

“Pipe Dream’s owner called me yesterday.” Moses was leaning over the round pen watching me lunge Cash. “She said she’d pay you an extra twenty-five bucks a week to ride Pipe Dream.”

I lifted the whip in the air. “Hup, hup.” Cash turned and went the other direction. “Do you think I should?” Moses knew the horses, and he knew exactly what I was asking.

“He’s horrible on the lunge line, no doubt, but definitely better under saddle, with the right bit in his mouth.” Moses turned and glanced in the direction of the arena then looked back at me. “Mind you, he spooks and shies easily. He panics every time he passes the northeast end of the arena where the shrubbery surrounds it.” His face crinkled as he smiled. “But you can handle him. Probably better than his owner.”

“I’ll ride him after I’m through with Cash.”

“Just trot and canter him a few times each way. That’s all he needs.” Moses nodded and waved as he walked away.

I decided a good twenty minutes at the end of a lunge line would tire out Pipe Dream enough to take the edge off. The horse bucked, kicked and sailed through the air like always when I put him on the line. I heard a familiar and detestable giggle as I lowered Pipe Dream’s halter to put on his bridle.

Gina and the lovely friends I’d met at the burger joint pulled up in a small convertible and hopped out. Gina’s radar took her straight to Seth. He saw her and glanced over my direction for a second. He didn’t look pleased to see her.

I busied myself with the horse and pretended not to notice the whole scene, but I would have loved to be a fly on the stall wall to hear what brilliant thing she was talking to him about.

I climbed on Pipe Dream and was glad I’d lunged him first. He was very spirited, which was a nice way to describe a pumped up horse. When we got to the spooky corner of the arena, he did a sideways dance, but I pressed my leg against him and he gave up the scaredy horse act pretty fast. I could tell from lunging him that he moved nicely, and he moved smoothly under saddle. Aside from shying twice from his own shadow, he was going well.

Fortunately, Pipe Dream required my full attention, so I didn’t have time to watch what was going on with Seth and Gina. But as we went the other direction, my saddle slipped slightly. I climbed off to tighten the girth. I couldn’t help myself; I had to look their direction. Gina was staring straight at me. I guess she’d just discovered that I worked here too. I contemplated waving and yelling surprise, but instead, I climbed back into the saddle.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the brightly colored Mohawk and Gina walking back to the car. She didn’t look happy. I kicked Pipe Dream into a canter. In the distance, the rough engine of the sports car fired up. Pipe Dream’s ears turned back toward the sound, but I kept the horse moving forward. Tires squealed a donut before the horn blasted and that was it. Pipe Dream bucked clean across the arena. I held on like a freakin’ bronc rider, which is not easy in an English saddle. My tailbone smacked down hard on the custom leather. When we got to the fence, Pipe Dream stopped. I flew out of the saddle, over the arena fence, and on to the rough gravel beyond.

The thing I hated most about falling off a horse was getting the wind knocked out of me. I closed my eyes and relaxed, hoping my breath was on its way back. I sucked in air, opened my eyes and was looking right into Seth Dallas’s dreamy brown ones. His face looked a few shades paler and his chest was heaving with fast breaths.

“Ouch.” It was the only word I could squeak out.

“Are you OK? Should I get Moses or an ambulance or something?”

“I’m glad my mom didn’t see that.” I grabbed his shoulder to help myself to a sitting position and took off my helmet. Pipe Dream stood in the arena looking sheepish as if he realized he’d just done a bad thing.

My hands were shaking but I still ran my fingers through my hair fully aware of the ugliness of helmet hair.

“I thought maybe you were going to need mouth to mouth or something.” Seth’s adorable mouth kicked up to a weak grin.

I smiled at him. “I might. I could lie back down.”

Seth laughed and I wanted to kick myself for not holding my breath a little longer.

I offered him my hand. “You can help me to my feet though.”

I stood and brushed off the grit that had stuck to me. My back and tailbone were sore but that was about it. “I think we need to put a shovelful of horse shit in that girl’s locker.”

“Horse shit’s too good for her,” Seth said.

Moses stepped out of the house and looked puzzled at the scene. He walked up to us. “Why are you out here and the horse in there?”

Using my hands and a few sound effects, I demonstrated my bouncing journey across the arena and over the fence.

Moses glanced at Pipe Dream. “I always said that was a stupid horse.”

“It really wasn’t his fault. Someone honked and he spooked.”

Moses looked at me. “Like I said, stupid horse.”

I turned to retrieve the gelding.

Moses put his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll get Mr. Stupid and put him away. You better go home. I don’t have to tell you what it’s going to feel like tomorrow morning.”

“You’re right. I’ll go home and start plowing down the aspirin now, so it’ll be worked up to a good level by the morning.”

Seth followed me back to the tack room so I could put away the helmet. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

I hung up the helmet. “I brought my mom’s car today. I’ll be fine.”        There was so much sweetness to go with all that cuteness. I smiled at him. He still looked shaken.

Not sure how I worked up the courage but I reached up and tucked a long strand of his hair behind his ear. “You haven’t been around horses that much. Falls like that happen. Horses are not the sharpest critters of the animal world. But they are awesome.”

He nodded and I could see his Adam’s apple move in his throat as he swallowed. I stepped back leaving him with a sort of stunned expression. I dug my keys out of my pocket and smiled again. “Well, I guess I’ll head home and start those aspirin shooters.” He was silent and now I felt like a boob for touching his hair.

Seth stepped aside, but as I slid past, his arm snaked out and wrapped around my waist. He pulled me to him. His other hand touched the side of my face as he leaned in for a kiss. It was the kiss I’d been waiting for. The one that could make a day shoot to ten. And it did.

Bitterroot Crossing Excerpt
Read an excerpt from Tess Oliver's new book Bitterroot Crossing - Now Available

Chapter 1

The scene in our crummy little kitchen repeated itself every morning as if someone had painted it on canvas. Dad was leaning back in his chair, his open robe exposing the coffee stained t-shirt he’d been wearing for days. No job, no need to shower had become his new motto. Mom was hunched over the kitchen sink peering through the window hoping to get a glimpse of something new or interesting in the neighborhood. For her something interesting could be as stupid as the Stewarts getting a new trash can. And Bobby, my younger brother, was sitting with his chin nearly submerged in his bowl of cereal trying not to be noticed by either ridiculous parent. He didn’t have to try so hard because the second I stepped into the kitchen, my dad’s disapproving scowl found me as the main target of the morning.

Dad’s unshaven double chin wobbled as he shook his head. “I don’t know what I hate the most, Nick, those silver hoops in your ears, that long hair, or that damn tattoo of barbed wire around your arm. You look like a hoodlum.”

“And yet, last time I checked, I’m the only one sitting here who has a job. And who uses the word hoodlum anymore?” My words made him wince, but I was sick of his crap. Lately he had lots of cruel words for all of us. Whether it was about Mom’s weight, or Bobby’s bad skin, or my long hair, it was always said to make him feel better about himself and make us feel shitty. He hadn’t always been like this. Losing his job and not being able to find a new one was turning him into a total jerk.

I walked to the cupboard to get a clean bowl. Mom straightened and smiled. She tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed my cheek.

“Anything exciting happening out there today, Mom?”

Her blue eyes widened. “Nick, haven’t you heard? That poor, young thing from the Sterling place has to start school today. Since her mom died,” she shook her head and clicked her tongue, “social services told her grandma she had to start coming to school. She was home schooled until now.”

“That’s real interesting, Mom.” I sat at the table across from Dad and tried to focus on my cereal so I could avoid making eye contact with him.

“It should be interesting. Your great-great-grandfather was part of the whole tragic love triangle between her great-great-grandma and that bounty hunter, Jack Bridger.” She motioned her head toward the window as if they were standing right outside.

“They say she’s a real freak. Got some hideous deformity,” Bobby said through a mouthful.   “Bobby, that’s an awful thing to say.” Mom returned to her window vigil. “Still, it’s hard to say why her mother and grandma have kept her so secluded from the rest of the town. Now it’s going to be even harder for her to adjust.”

Mom pulled herself from the window and sat at the table. “You know when her Great-great-grandma Rebecca was shot by,” she leaned over the table and lowered her voice to a whisper, “Zedekiah Crush”, she sat back now and her voice returned to normal, “they say he didn’t even care if they hung him without a trial. He was so heartbroken, they say he just walked up to the noose and stuck his head through.” She clicked her tongue again, a really annoying habit. “They were both so young, only nineteen. Of course, back in those days, I suppose that was middle aged.”

Dad crumbled up his napkin and threw it on the table. “Why do you whisper his name, foolish woman? Zedekiah hasn’t risen from that swamp in fifteen years. And who is this they you’re constantly talking about. You act like you were there a hundred-fifty years ago when they hung that whole damn Crush Gang.” Dad sneered at Mom. “Come to think of it, you look old enough to have been born last century. Only I don’t think women were so fat back then.” He laughed. Mom lowered her hurt gaze to the table.

I stared at my dad thinking how sweet it would be to throw a punch at him. “At least Mom is not a direct descendant of the most hated guy in town.”

It always brought Dad down a few notches when I reminded him of his family tree. His jaw twitched beneath the gray stubble, so my comment hit the mark.

Bobby’s hand reached forward to grab his glass. He missed and the entire contents of orange juice spilled across the table and added a layer of stains to Dad’s t-shirt. Silence fell over the table. Bobby ducked instinctively as Dad’s hand flew up to smack Bobby across the head. I shot up and stopped his arm midflight. My hand tightened around his wrist as he glared at me. His face grew red but he was speechless. My reflexes were growing fast as lightning. I had no idea what was happening to me, but I wasn’t going to complain. And the whole thing was really starting to scare the crap out of my old man. Reluctantly, I released my hold on him.

He plopped back against the vinyl chair defeated, pissed-off, and more than slightly worried that he’d never be able to lay a hand on any of us again. And I intended to see that he didn’t.

“As usual, it’s been a pleasure.” I got up, dropped my bowl in the sink, grabbed my fedora off the coat hook, and headed out the back door.

Mom opened the screen door and stuck her head out. “Stay away from the swamp, Nick. The sirens have been going off all night.”

I kick started my dirt bike. Tina raced out of her house wearing the tight pink t-shirt I loved. “Wait, Nick.” She crossed the street and ran up the driveway. “Hurry before my dad sees. He hates this motorcycle.” Her lips flew at mine. Then she flung her leg over the seat, threw her arms around my waist, and pressed herself against my back. I turned onto the road and headed to the swamp.

Chapter 2

I finished tying my lace-up boots and returned to the book in my lap.

Nana poked her head into my bedroom. “I fixed a nice lunch for you, Jessie.” She stepped inside. “I put in one of those apple muffins you like so much.” She stared down at me. The lines branching out from her green eyes deepened and her wrinkled face smoothed to a frown. She wrung her freckled hands nervously in her apron. “You look so pretty,” she blurted then broke into sobs.

I laid my book on my bed, walked over to her, and circled my arms around her. “Nana, I’ll be fine. I’m not even nervous.” I released my hug and pointed down at my feet. “And I’m wearing my special boots. No one will notice that my left leg is shorter.” I strolled across the room with the walk I’d practiced all week. Normally, at home, I was barefoot and I moved freely about with my shorter leg not caring how it looked. But at school I intended on blending in as best as I could. Although knowing that a small town like Bitterroot Crossing rarely had a new student show up at school, blending in was probably going to be difficult. “Nana, if I move my arms just right, you can hardly see my limp.”

She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Your limp is not what worries me and you know it.” She came up directly in front of me. The aroma of apples and cinnamon drifted up from her apron as she took hold of my hands. “Promise me you’ll wear the cloak and hood at all times when you’re outside. We don’t need any trouble from the Crush Gang. And Zedekiah . . . .”

I squeezed her fingers in mine. “Zedekiah has not been seen since he chased my parents out of town. And he did not cause Daddy to leave Mom. That he did all on his own. You always said he was flakier than a buttermilk biscuit. And when Mom came back here, the Crush Gang left her alone for the most part. Besides, Zedekiah doesn’t even know I exist. I’ll be fine.”  She opened her mouth to protest, but I stopped her with a palm on her cheek. “I’ll wear the hood, even in the blazing sun. The Crush Gang won’t know I’ve left the farm.”

The expression on her face did not show reassurance. My own words hadn’t really set my mind at ease either. Not only had I inherited my Great-great-grandma Rebecca’s slightly shorter left leg, but my face was nearly identical to hers. And the Crush Gang’s troubles had begun because of that face. Zedekiah Crush had been a notorious outlaw and gunslinger with lightning reflexes. No one could outdraw him. Everyone feared his cruelty, a cold-hearted man who broke hearts in every town and left plenty of dead men in his path. By the age of eighteen, he’d already been widowed twice. He’d left his only son with people he barely knew and plundered every town along the railway. Rumor had it that he killed one of his own gang members because he’d eaten the last piece of pie. Put his empty fork right through the guy’s throat. Of course, that was only a rumor, and this town had a knack for embellishing stories. But one story definitely had truth in it. In Bitterroot Crossing there had been only one person who didn’t fear him, only one person who could reduce Zedekiah Crush to a helpless, stray puppy and that had been my great-great-grandma.

I lifted my gray wool cloak from the hook on the wall. I’d dressed in my favorite sleeveless dress. It was made from ivory cotton and was dotted with tiny purple violets. The fabric had been worn thin and soft from use. It was perfect for such a warm day. Unfortunately, it would not keep me from burning up under the heat of my heavy cloak.

I strolled into the kitchen nonchalantly as if I left home every day. Jasper, our dog, did not even stir from his morning snooze. The kitchen suddenly seemed cozier and more inviting than ever. It was such a familiar, comfortable place and everything I was about to encounter would be so unfamiliar. Still something deep inside of me thrilled at the idea of going out into the world. Aside from the occasional visit to the doctor or dentist, it was a world I’d mostly only read about. And even then, I went out under cloak and hood and only when the town haunts were not active.

Jasper lifted his big snout up for a minute signaling Nana’s arrival. “Maybe we could tell the school you weren’t feeling well today. You could start tomorrow.” Her voiced wavered and she seemed on the brink of sobs again.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” I put my school bag over my shoulder, kissed Nana on the cheek, and pulled the deep hood up over my head.

Mandy, our Belgian mare, was standing in the yard. The horse stood quietly while I climbed onto the fence, slid my dress up to my thighs, and jumped onto her broad back. I grasped a piece of white mane and pushed my boots into her sides. Mandy plodded forward on giant hooves. She would carry me down the dirt road to where the town’s main road caught up to the mountain.

Aside from the usual squirrels darting back and forth and the occasional bird tweeting, the road was quiet and deserted. During early summer it was dotted with the pink and white flowers of bitterroot. But now, in early fall, the June colors had all but disappeared. It was rare for me to venture beyond the fence around the farm, but truthfully, I was excited about the prospect of attending school. Mom had been a fantastic teacher but not interacting with people my own age had left me feeling lonely on occasion.

Through the years, Nana and Mom had grown distrustful of the town. ‘Too much ignorance down below’ Mom would always say. We never talked about it much, but I know it was not just the threat of Zedekiah lurking about that kept me home schooled. I only hoped that I would not stand out too much and they would accept me. Nana had warned me more than once that people could be cruel, but I decided to try my best to fit in. After all, how bad could they be?

Mandy’s ears stood up straight and she picked up a trot, snorting loudly as we passed the primitive road that crisscrossed our path. The surrounding air moistened and the bitterness of it filled my nose and throat. I turned my head and squinted through the trees to the swamp. Two hundred years before, the dirt trail had been used as a corpse road, a road used to convey dead bodies from town to the church graveyard in the next town. Eventually Bitterroot Crossing built its own graveyard, and the road became obsolete. Several years after the road fell out of use, swamp water began bubbling up from the ground beneath the road until it filled a swath of land larger than an acre. The trees surrounding it grew black and their long branches snaked around each other in an unnatural way. The entire area smelled of bitter smoke.

The townspeople had avoided it until the day they hung the Crush Gang. The havoc they’d wreaked had thinned the townsfolk’s patience. After a particularly nasty spell of thievery and plundering along with the death of my great-great-grandma at the hands of their leader, Zedekiah, they’d rounded up the gang and strung them up on makeshift gallows. Their bodies were never given a proper burial. Instead the corpses were paraded through town and dumped unceremoniously into the swamp. At the time, the citizens of Bitterroot had had no idea what their actions would lead to.

Voices and laughter drifted through the maze of long branches between the swamp and the road Mandy trotted down. The loud buzz of motorcycles followed. I could see the red glow of cigarettes. Some of the kids from town were hanging out by the swamp, most likely taunting its inhabitants before school began.

Some say the Crush Gang still haunted the town because they were so evil even hell wouldn’t accept them. Others say it was because they were never given a proper burial so their souls could never rest. But Mom, a true romantic, claimed it was because of love. Zedekiah Crush had been in a constant battle with the town’s lawman, Jack Bridger, not only because of his lawlessness but because they both loved the widow, Rebecca Colton. When Zedekiah pulled a gun on Jack, Rebecca jumped in front of the bullet and was killed by Zedekiah’s own gun. She left behind two broken men and a baby girl, my great-grandma. Mom always said that Zedekiah was stuck between worlds, tormented by what he’d done, and his loyal gang refused to desert him. Now several times a month, Bitterroot Crossing’s sirens sounded the alarm to warn that the gang, Crow, Steamer, Axel and Butcher, had risen from their sludge filled grave to torment the town. No one had died because of the hauntings, at least not since Zedekiah had appeared fifteen years before, sending two elderly citizens to an early death by heart attack. But the gang’s visits left plenty of destruction and frayed nerves.

Mandy and I’d come to the end of the path. I was about to slide off her back and send her back home when the three motorcycles came flying down the path. Two of them skimmed Mandy’s legs as they raced past. The normally steadfast horse skidded sideways nearly dumping me on the side of the road. The boys riding the bikes looked back at me and laughed loudly. The third bike slowed as it neared. I peered down at them from beneath the shade of my hood. The boy coasted past cautiously. He stared up apologetically at me with dark blue eyes. The girl wrapped around his waist had a huge grin. She was pretty with rose-colored lipstick and a long white pony-tail.

Her mouth opened wide along with her eyes as she glanced up at me. “There’s the freak from the Sterling farm,” she said loudly as they rolled past.

Once they were well ahead of me, I leaned forward and gave Mandy a pat on the neck.“Sorry about that, Mandy. It’s just some kids from town.” A lump formed in my throat when I thought about the girl’s words. I slid off of the horse’s back. The mare nuzzled my shoulder. I pulled her nose toward me and kissed the soft end. “Don’t worry about me, girl. After all, how bad can it be?”