Body & Soul (Ghost and the Goth Novels) (23 page)

She glanced around wildly until she spotted me.
Help me
, she mouthed.

I shook my head, which felt like it weighed about thirty pounds. I could have told her to try to claim her brother, as I’d reclaimed Will, but I wasn’t sure it would work. Same with trying a barrage of positive thoughts and comments. Eventually she’d have ended up right where I was…vanishing for good.

“This is it.” I forced the words out. “Last chance. One more opportunity to make the right choice.”

She rolled her eyes.

I made a frustrated noise. “You don’t get it. You go this way and there’s nothing else. Gone for good.”

Erin’s eyes widened.

“So, don’t be a dumbass,” I said wearily. But to be honest, I thought this was a bit of a long shot. After all, I was disappearing, too—a little slower, thanks to my connection with Will, but it was still happening. And the light hadn’t come for me. What were the odds that it would come for her, even if she did manage to pull the stick out of her butt and say the right thing to her brother?

We were both screwed, most likely. But if she could make Ed’s existence slightly better before she went, that could only help.

She shifted her attention to her twin, who still was not looking at her.

I’m sorry.
I could see the words flash across her mouth, but of course he couldn’t hear them. He didn’t even glance—didn’t see her making the effort.

And that finally seemed to spark a sense of panic in her.

She flailed her arms around in front of him, her lips moving in a rapid stream of words.

But her brother remained oblivious, half turned away from her.

“Oh, come on,” I said to him, knowing he couldn’t hear me, but unable to resist the urge to say
something
. “Look at her.” It would have been one thing for her to try and fail anyway, but for her to try and have him not even be aware of it? That wasn’t fair to either of them.

She stopped jumping around and shouting, then, to stare at him, her focus almost palpable.

Yeah, like that was going to work.

But to my surprise, after only a few seconds, he turned swiftly, almost as if he didn’t realize he was moving until it was too late to stop, and their gazes locked. For the first time, I recognized clear similarities between them.

He was older now, of course, so they looked more like regular siblings than twins. But their hair color, the shape of their faces…I could see it now.

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…
She mouthed the words, slowly and distinctly, but her gaze conveyed desperation.

The cynic in me kind of thought this probably had way more to do with her panic over her own state than with some intense desire to make everything right with her brother.

But then she reached out to touch his arm, even though that wasn’t possible, and I felt a strange kind of pressure in the air, like a bubble pushing us outward. Then, a very familiar warmth and brightness began to spill from above.

No. No way.
My gut twisted in shock and disappointment.
Son of a bitch.
She
gets light?

Erin stepped back in surprise, her body tensed as if she were about to bolt. But I saw it the moment that rush of warmth washed over her. Her appearance solidified, taking on the glow of the light, and she relaxed with a smile, virtually swimming in her newly found peace and acceptance. And I wished I could hit her.

Squinting into the light, Ed held his hand up over his eyes, tears leaving bright tracks down his cheeks.

I was pretty sure I was crying, too, though more out of fury and bitterness. I was being left behind again. Even after everything I’d done.
Quelle surprise.

Ed watched the unnatural brightness slowly pouring down, like honey from a jar, and he stepped forward quickly, as though he might try to go with. “Erin!”

But she held her hand out to stop him and gave him an all-knowing, peaceful smile, one that suggested she’d reached some new insight on her life (and death) in those few seconds. Or maybe just being in the light made everything else seem less important by comparison. I didn’t know—most of my memories of my time in the light were gone.

As I watched, Erin waved good-bye to her brother.

Ed seemed to be barely holding it together, based on the way his shoulders were shaking, but he managed to wave back.

Then I looked on with wholehearted envy as Erin stepped back fully into the light, her face tilted up to bask in the warmth I barely remembered.

Her form grew brighter until it blended with the light and vanished.

Choking on sobs, Ed turned and fled, leaving me alone with Lily’s crumpled body.

I sighed. Or tried to. No noise came out. I felt a spike of panic. It seemed I was only seconds behind Erin on her previous path to disappearance, and the light sure as hell wasn’t going to appear over my head to beam
me
up at the last second.

Except…

The light hadn’t retreated yet, I realized with a start. Unlike my previous encounters with it, the light was lingering, a golden and welcoming column only a few feet away. Like it was waiting for something.

For me? Hope pulsed through me. Was it even possible?

I was afraid to move, like if I did anything to attract its attention, it might vanish…again.

With trepidation, I dragged myself a few inches forward, testing; but to my surprise, it didn’t pull back.

If anything, it moved closer…or perhaps it simply expanded until the outer edge reached me.

I felt its warmth and strength seeping into me, and I almost cried out with relief. I looked down and saw my body returning, filling in and becoming solid again, only this time with a glow that I recognized as part of the light.

Pushing myself to crawl again, I discovered it was easier than before, like I might be able to stand soon and walk into the light.

After a few feet, I paused to listen, trying to identify a new sound that was still somehow familiar. Harsh, raspy, uneven.

I looked over and found myself next to Lily’s body. She was flipped over on her side, her arm dangling limply, and without Erin, she was, as expected, dying. That new sound was her struggling for breath.

I froze even in the outer reaches of that eternal warmth, uncertain what to do. Without me, Lily would die. No question. But I was being offered the chance I’d been waiting for. The light was here. For me, this time.

I craved the light like the air I’d once needed to breathe, as Lily still did, and this close to it, I felt it pulling at me as if it were a home I’d never known and yet missed desperately.

But I was being offered a choice here, wasn’t I? And there had to be a reason for that.…Right?

Maybe.
I sat back on my knees in frustration.

It was always about choices, just like I’d told Erin. But how was I supposed to know what the right one was in this scenario?

I got the sense that this choice—to stay or go—might have been one I’d struggled with before. It held a vague and misty sense of familiarity that surrounded everything I remembered—or didn’t—about the light. Was it possible that I hadn’t been
sent
back but had
chosen
to come back, of my own free will? I’d never understood why I couldn’t remember the peace of being in the light. I’d thought maybe the removal of those memories was part of the punishment that sent me back to the living. But if I’d chosen to return, then maybe not remembering the light—and the bliss I’d likely experienced while there—was actually a kindness.

But even if that was what had happened before, it didn’t help me now, faced with
this
decision.

“Fan-freaking-tastic,” I muttered. “Like you can’t give me a hint here? Like that would kill you?”

But the light remained warm, welcoming, and silent;and the girl next to me continued dying.

I sighed. “Of course not. That might actually make this easier.” I wished I could talk to Will one last time before…well, just before.

“H
ey! Are you really this stupid?” A female voice demanded from somewhere nearby.

For a second, from my position on the ground, with my face buried in the grass and dirt and blood, I thought it was Alona speaking to me. And while I agreed that getting whaled on wasn’t the smartest thing I’d ever done, it wasn’t like I could stop it. I’d gotten in a few good swings, but not enough. Not nearly enough. Again, that’s what happened when you were outnumbered sixteen to one.

“Hey!” she said again, and the pummeling paused momentarily.

“He’s gate-crashing,” Ben said, out of breath.
Sorry that beating the crap out of me winded you so badly, dude.
I wanted to crawl away, but everything ached too much to move. Breathing hurt. I settled for turning my head so I could at least see what was coming next. My new world-view showed me Misty Evans standing above me, a red cup clenched in her hand, and her boyfriend, Chris Zebrowski, at her side. Misty was my defender? That didn’t make any sense. But she had stopped Ben, temporarily at least, which struck me (no pun intended) as a good thing regardless.

“He came after that other freak, that Lily girl.” Ben’s voice held a chilling amount of contempt, like he’d never once thought of Lily with affection.

“Apparently, you didn’t think she was all that freaky a few minutes ago,” Misty snapped, and a few people tittered.

Oh. Oh, no, Erin, what did you do?
If she’d been all over Ben, that, at least, would have explained Alona’s deviation from the plan and her no-holds-barred attack on Erin.

“What do you want, Evans?” Ben swiped the back of his hand at the blood dripping from his nose. Yeah, I’d done that. I might have felt pride, if I had been capable of feeling more than anything but hurt and kind of broken.

“How about starting college without a criminal record?” she demanded. “Do you remember what happened the last time that chick got into trouble at one of your parties? Cops everywhere.”

A murmur spread through the crowd, as though this was the first time they’d considered the possibility of law-enforcement intervention. Dumbasses. Just because Ben was invincible on school grounds didn’t mean the same concept applied here.

“And beating
him
up is going to help how?” Misty continued, in that same pushy tone I recognized from Alona. “You’re just making it worse for yourself. All he has to do is tell the police he came in to get her and you attacked him.”

The crowd murmur grew louder, and Ben, ever the experienced host, looked around and saw his party on the brink of breaking up in a panic. He shook his head and spat on the ground next to me in disgust. “Whatever.” He kicked at my leg, but since he lacked most of his previous force, it was more for show than anything else. “Get her and get out.”

He turned and walked away. “We’re not going to let them spoil our party!” he shouted to his audience. “Time to tap a fresh one!”

A celebratory cry went up from those standing around me, and the crowd began to dissipate, without anyone giving me a second glance, let alone checking to see if I was okay. The show was over, and I had all the significance of a discarded prop.

Above me, Misty gave Chris a gentle shove to follow Ben, but instead of going along with him, as I expected, she paused for a quick second and scanned me from head to toe, like she was checking for broken bones poking out.

“Thanks,” I managed to mumble. Misty had saved my ass. I could maybe see now why Alona had stuck by her, even after Misty did what she had done with Chris.

For a long moment she didn’t respond, and then she nodded at me. It was barely noticeable—in case anyone was watching, obviously—but it was there. Then she strolled away, beer cup in hand and shrieking a high-pitched greeting to one of her fellow cheerleaders across the yard.

In Misty’s mind, we were even now. Fair enough.

I rolled to my side and the pain made me catch my breath, but I pushed myself up to my knees and then slowly to my feet. Taking stock, I could feel countless bruises and scrapes, and from the sharp pain on my left side every time I inhaled and exhaled, I was betting on cracked ribs. I could, however, still breathe, so probably not a punctured lung or anything.

Goody. Yay me.

I raised my gaze to the tree line in the distance, attempting to steel myself for the walk to find Alona and Erin, wherever they’d disappeared to (and with Alona’s situation I could only pray that wasn’t literally the case) and froze when I got a good look at the woods.

The light—bright, warm, and glorious—reached above the treetops in a gleaming column. It had come for someone. Erin…or Alona?

Or both?

Would Alona be gone before I even got a chance to say good-bye? A real good-bye? One last kiss and the chance to tell her that she’d made my life better even as she’d made me crazy? That we were better together than I would ever be by myself, but that because of her, I would be okay? Not great, but okay, and I owed that all to her?

No. I
needed
to see her one last time.

My eyes hot and stinging, I pressed my hand against my ribs in an attempt to keep them from being jostled, and took off in a limping run.

I’d barely crossed into the woods and passed a few drunken couples who hadn’t bothered to retreat to Ben’s house for one-on-one time when Ed came charging out and nearly slammed into me.

“What are you doing?” I asked, astonished to see him out here. I hadn’t seen him leave the car after me, but he must have.

He was crying, his glasses clutched in his hand. “She’s gone.”

My heart plunged toward my stomach. “Alona?”

He frowned at me, his forehead crinkling. “Who?”

Before I could answer, he shook his head. “No, Erin. She…the light…it was so bright, and she just…went into it.” He sounded awed and sad all at the same time.

Normally, I would have stayed with him, tried to talk him through it. The first time you see the light, especially if it’s not coming for you, it’s a bit of a mind-blowing experience. But I couldn’t this time, not now.

I shoved past him and kept going.

“Hey, are you okay?” he called after me. “You don’t look so good.”

I ignored him and focused on the column of light in the near distance. It grew brighter the deeper I went into the woods. But I couldn’t tell if that was because I was getting closer or if the trees were blocking out the competing light from Ben’s house.

And then it was gone. Like someone overhead had flipped off a gigantic switch.

I stumbled to a stop, blinded by the sudden darkness.

“No, no, no.” I could hear the broken words in my croaking voice, but they sounded like they were coming from someone else.

When my sight returned, I started forward in the direction of where I thought the light had been, but everything looked the same in the dark. Trees. Everywhere.

“Ally!” I shouted. It was the only name I could safely use for her with so many people nearby, and one I’d come to associate with her, anyway.

No response, and though I’d half expected that, it didn’t prevent me from feeling that socked-in-the-stomach sensation, with which I was all too recently familiar.

I kept going, searching blindly for something, anything, when the moonlight caught a pale shape on the ground about ten feet ahead of me.

Oh, no.

I raced forward, ignoring my ribs, my brain shouting at me to hurry, even though some part of me knew it was already too late. Whatever had happened had happened. And there was nothing I could do to change it.

I slipped in the dead leaves and half slid, half fell into place next to her.

Gathering her up in my arms, I caught the overwhelming scent of beer, but also the fainter scent of the sweet-smelling shampoo she used, both as Ally and Alona. Lily’s body was still breathing, I could tell, but there were no signs of life other than that. Alona was gone, and it was over.

So…that was it. Tears spilled down my cheeks, warm, wet, and stinging my various cuts and scrapes, but I didn’t care.

I lifted her up, holding her closer, her face pressed against my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I should have been here. I didn’t mean for you to be alone.…”

“You know, I went to a lot of trouble to stick around,” she said quietly, her voice muffled against me.

I jumped a little at the sound, and then started to laugh and cry at the same time, feeling ridiculous but unable to stop. “You’re here.”

“It would be nice if you didn’t suffocate me right away,” she continued, sounding exhausted.

I tipped her head away from my shoulder, so I could see her face. “Are you okay?”

“Tired. Really tired, but okay. Nothing a gallon of mouthwash and a full decontamination shower won’t fix.”

She lifted her head slowly, like it was an effort, and it probably was. I kept my hand behind her neck to help support it.

She touched my cheek gently, and I winced. “What happened to you?” she asked.

“Ben was feeling artistic. Wanted to rearrange my face.” I searched her eyes, looking for signs that she was as okay as she claimed to be. Lipstick was still smeared across her mouth, and I used the side of my thumb to rub it away. She’d hate it as soon as she saw it was messed up.

She smiled. “Funny guy. But there’s good news.”

“What’s that?”

“You look good in bloodred, too, I guess.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, you’re a riot.”

“I try,” she said with a modest shrug.

Then it was all too much, and her eyes went bright and shiny with tears, and she looked away. “I thought…” she began in a trembling voice.

“I know.” I held her tighter, ignoring the pain in my ribs and various bumps and bruises. None of that seemed important at the moment.

“The light,” I said. “Did you…”

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I could have gone. It was giving me the choice. Like last time.”

That was news to me, and, dim as it was here in the woods, there must have been enough light for her to read that in my expression.

“Yeah, I didn’t know, either,” she said, looking down. “Didn’t remember. Not until it was here and I was on the edges of it.”

“You didn’t stay for me.” I hesitated. “Did you?” As flattering as that would be, I didn’t want it on my conscience.

She laughed, actually snorted. “Please. Who do you think I am?” She sat up straighter, seeming to grow stronger the longer we sat here. “I stayed because I could,” she said simply. “Because I could have been done, but I don’t think I am. Not yet.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but right now, I didn’t care. She was here.

“But,” she said, carefully avoiding my gaze, “your continued presence may have been a perk that I considered.”

I tucked her hair behind her shoulder, where it wouldn’t stay because of her new haircut. “I think, uh, I might be in love with you,” I said, my voice sounding gruff and awkward even to my own ears. Strange after everything we’d been through together that this would be so difficult to say, but it was. I couldn’t even look at her, focused instead on that errant strand of hair. “Is that going to be a problem?” I asked stiffly when she didn’t respond.

She laughed. “Probably. Probably lots of problems. But”—she put her hands on my shoulders when I tried to pull away—“we’ll figure them out. I’m not going anywhere.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and held on tightly.

It would take more time and patience for her to get to the point where she was comfortable enough to
say
that she loved me, but I knew in that moment that she did.

I leaned back to look at her, seeing only her, this girl who was Ally but also Alona, and who bore a resemblance to a friend I’d once had but was someone new. Someone I could live without, but didn’t want to.

I eased closer, drawn in by the desire to cement this moment in reality, in touch and taste.

She pulled away slightly, her hand covering her mouth like she had garlic breath. “Do you have any idea who Erin was kissing?”

“Yeah, so we’ll brush our teeth really, really thoroughly afterward,” I said, bumping her nose with mine gently. I wasn’t going to let
anyone
spoil this moment.

She lowered her hand slightly. “And burn our toothbrushes?” she persisted.

“I’ll buy you a case of new ones,” I promised, my lips moving against her cheek.

She nodded and lowered her hand the rest of the way.

I brushed my mouth against hers. She shivered, and her hands swept up to touch my hair and urge me closer. They were chaste kisses, in deference to the night we’d both had, but electric in their potential. I could feel the future in them. A future I never thought I’d have, and one I wanted more than anything.