Ghost Time (36 page)

(SIX MONTHS EARLIER)

6:14 PM

Karen had a yard sale in late October. Cam and I had been going out for a month or so, I guess, but that was the first time I ever met Cam’s mom. Cam said she had some things she thought I might want, and that she wanted to meet me, and I didn’t know what to say, really. But his mom was having a yard sale, and a lot of it was junk, Cam said, but there was one thing I might want. What’s that? I asked. You’ll have to come over to meet her and find out, he said. If I meet your mother, I’ll get a surprise gift? So you’re bribing me, basically, is that right? I asked. Yes. Is that a problem for you? he asked, sitting back in his seat, and I thought about it.

No, not really, I said, taking a sip of my Diet Coke, staring out the window of Silver Top. I mean, of course it was a problem, and my stomach gurgled just thinking about it. She’s cool, he said, laughing at my stomach. You’ll like her. And she’ll love you, he said, smiling. So what’s the gift? I asked, trying to sound
all nonchalant. Not telling, he said. You can’t be bribed, I said. I never said I couldn’t be bribed, he said, before looking up, smiling at Sharon, who was bringing our plate of fries. Anything else, hon? Sharon asked. No, thank you, Sharon, I said. She was speaking to me, Cam said. You’re welcome, doll, she said, speaking to me, but nodding her head at him, always amused by Cam and his lines. My mom wants you to come over for dinner, Friday, and then we can look through the stuff she’s selling before dinner. Okay? he asked, grabbing the red plastic ketchup bottle, giving it a good hard shake. I watched him squeeze it out, thinking it sounded just like my stomach felt, and I nodded yes.

I actually lost sleep over it, too, Thursday night, trying to figure out what to take over, what to wear. Getting ready for dinner that night, my room looked like an explosion had gone off in my closet, leaving clothing shrapnel and shoes everywhere. Saturday, Cam offered to pick me up, but he was helping set up for their yard sale, so I asked my mom. She was in one of her good moods that she gets in when I do something or have one of those coming-of-age moments, and she gets all misty on me. But I’m glad I asked her, and I probably should’ve invited her in, but she knew. So I got out, and I walked up their walk, and I turned back, and my mom was leaning over the wheel, peeking, and I waved her off, like,
Stop, would you? Go!
She knew what I was saying, too, but she just sat there, waiting for me to knock, waving. I was just like,
Ohmygod, Mom, could you be any more obvious?
I mean, I wasn’t really annoyed, I was just nervous.

So I walked up, I took a deep breath, and I knocked on the door. I swear my hand was shaking, knocking, too, and then I
heard a woman’s voice that had to be Cam’s mom, answer, Coming! Then the door opened while I was still trying to swallow. And she was beautiful. That sort of long, curly white-blonde hair. Fine nose, light freckles, tall, thin. And she has this gap between her two front teeth, but Nordic looking. Nothing like me. Kind of intimidating, and nothing like me at all.
Hello!
You must be Thea, she said, opening the screen door. Yes, I said, not sure if I should call her Mrs. Conlon, because you know some mothers don’t like that, because it makes them feel old or something; it’s complicated. So I didn’t call her anything, I just said hi and held up my hand.

Come in, come in, she said, smiling, standing back so I could walk past her. Cam? Thea’s here, she called, and then she asked to take my jacket. I had a whole breakdown about what to wear, and I settled on a black dress and flats, and then I saw myself in the hallway mirror and I looked a little Tuesday Addams. That’s what my mom called the look, Tuesday Addams, Wednesday Addams’s older sister, ha, and I almost lost it with her, too, because I heard it enough at school, you know? Thea, I love your dress, Karen said, and I smiled. She goes, Is it vintage? And I said yes, smiling. Honestly, I wanted to fall on my knees and thank her for saying that, because I’d changed like twenty times, trying to figure out what to wear.

Hey, Cam said, walking down the front hall. You’re here, he said. I’m here, I said, trying to smile, but feeling like my lips were doing something strange, pursed, I don’t know. Come sit down, Thea, Karen said, turning and then turning back. Oh, do you want me to hang your bag? she asked. No, it’s fine, I’ve got it,
thanks, I said, following her into the living room, and Cam following behind. I took a seat at the end of the couch, and I looked around the room, and it was… stylish. I didn’t see many stylish rooms. Style, period. In magazines, yes. But here, in this town, people chose floral wallpaper and matching drapes and carpeting and American Colonial dining room sets. But this, this was, this was stylin’. I wanted Karen to decorate our place. Except that I never ever wanted her to see our apartment.

Cam, why don’t you get her something to drink? she said. What would you like? he asked. Anything, I said, realizing how stupidly agreeable I sounded, and he nodded. Coming right up, he said. I love your house, I said, smiling at Karen, sounding stupid again, wanting to pound my head against the wall first chance I got. Thank you, she said, smiling, still taking me in. I brought you something, I said, remembering why I’d held on to my bag. I didn’t have any money to bring anything, and Nanna drilled it into me, you always take something with you when you’re invited to someone’s house, so I drew her a picture of flowers. I looked up a bunch of things online, and I chose the flowers, just like I would if I actually had the money and we had a posh florist who’d have flowers like those. I didn’t have a chance to go to the flower shop, so I drew these instead, I said, suddenly realizing how dumb I sounded.

Cam walked in then, holding two glasses of something with bubbles, and I wanted to run out of the house. Oh, look at that, she said, looking at the picture, really looking at it, and then looking up at me, like she was looking to see if I’d really drawn it, myself, and then looking at the picture again. Thea, this is so
much better than real flowers, she said. And I love real flowers, don’t get me wrong, but this is just beautiful. Thank you, she said, beaming, showing it to Cam. And then he looked at me, looked at his mom again, and then handed me my drink, smiling.

Cam told me you’re
very
talented, she said, smiling, still looking at the picture. Thank you, I said, taking a sip of my drink. Cherry seltzer. Made me burp, but I hid it. Cam, go grab the box, will you? Karen asked, taking the drink from him. Cam stepped out of the room and returned with a big cardboard box, setting it down by me. We saved a few things for you, things Cam said you might want. So take a look, Karen said, please. I peeked inside the box, and I saw right away: it was a Super 8 camera and a box of film, and I pulled it out, no idea what to say.

You like it? Cam said, and I nodded yes, yes! I’ve
always
wanted a Super 8, I said, totally blown away that she was giving it to me, and Karen smiled. Well, just so you know, there are a couple pieces missing, but I’m sure anyone with an Internet connection could track them down with a little effort, she said, but looking at Cam, not me. If you want to keep it, I said, thinking maybe Cam had been eyeing the camera for himself, but then he shook his head. No, he said, I want you to have it—even if it doesn’t work.
Yet
, Karen said, winking at me, before excusing herself, leaving us alone.

Go on: check it out, Cam said, handing me the camera, and I looked through the lens, turning to him, wishing it worked and had film. When’s your birthday? he said, and I lowered the camera. June, I said, biting the inside of my lip, and he said, June what? And I said, June 16. Ah-ha, he said, curling his tongue
between this teeth. It’s your sweet sixteen, right? he said, and I said, Why do you ask? And he shrugged, I don’t know, it’s just that we don’t buy gifts in my family; birthdays, Christmas, you have to make something. So I was thinking maybe I’d fix this for you for your birthday. We’ll see, I said, raising my brow, trying to act all cool, but all I could do was stare at my feet, kicking the heel of my Converse against the toe of my other shoe.

What, Cam said, you don’t believe me? Fifty bucks—no, make it a hundred—a hundred bucks, he said, making me a bet. I said, A hundred bucks, what? And he said, A hundred bucks says I’ll get this thing working and give it back to you for your sixteenth birthday. If you’re nice, maybe I’ll even throw in a projector, he said, and I couldn’t help smiling—couldn’t even look at him, that bitter feeling in my cheeks. Still staring at my feet, a voice in my head started screeching,
Please don’t make me any promises you can’t keep, Cam, because it’d break my heart
, and I think he saw it, too, because then he reached for my hand. He took my left hand in his and he shook my hand, looking me in the eye, shaking on it. Deal? he asked, and I smiled: Deal, I said.

He let go and then he handed the camera back to me, Hold that for a sec, will you? he said, getting up and heading for the kitchen, and I got up to follow. Standing there, in the doorway, watching them together, I knew I’d always remember the day I met Karen for the first time, looking at the two of them through the lens of a Super 8 camera.

(EIGHT WEEKS LATER)

10:19 AM

The lawyers came over to tell us there was some film company making a made-for-TV movie about my life. I guess they’re saying it was based on a true story, and they weren’t saying it was me, but it was obvious it was me:
When an upstate New York girl’s boyfriend disappears, her life is turned upside down.
That’s the description, okay: tell me that’s not me. Even better, they sold the deal for more than half a million dollars, and now they’re getting some big actress to play the role of this mysterious upstate girl, and when Mom told me that, I couldn’t even ask who was going to play the me they weren’t saying is me.

Mom said the lawyers said it was happening, whether we liked it or not, and there was only so much they could do, and of course, if I didn’t agree to the book deal or anything being offered, like
right now
, I might never get another chance. So, basically, they’re telling me my days as a hot commodity were
numbered, and I’d have to live with other people making money off my story. I got a headache, sitting at the table, listening to her tell me what the lawyers said. I mean, not a real headache, the pressure, because I can’t… I can’t take it anymore. I can’t do this anymore. Seriously, I just wanted to disappear, find an island without any Internet or TV, and never be heard or seen again.

Thea, there are some offers you need to consider, whatever you decide, and I said, No. I want you to go now, speaking to the lawyers. I won’t have this conversation without Cam—I’m not talking to anyone without Cam here. She said, Thea, please, baby, you’ve got to face—. Face what? I said, clenching my jaw, I’ve got to face what, Mom? She shook her head no, she didn’t mean that. But she did—I could see it in her eyes, she was this close—this close to telling me I had to face facts. I knew what she was thinking, and maybe I was in denial. All this time, maybe that’s how I’ve been able to function, because I was in denial about Cam, about the people outside our front door, about being on the nightly news, about becoming the teen porn queen of the Internet. If it hadn’t been for denial, I think I would have truly lost my mind. But there still comes a point when you can’t avoid it anymore, and you have to ask yourself, What if Cam is dead? And how long—what, three months, six months, a year? How long are you going to wait before accepting that whether he’s alive or dead, you have to go on without him? There’s no avoiding it, but so far, there was only one answer: Not today. I’m not going on without him today.

I told my mom I needed to think and when I went back to my room, I closed the door, and I could see how bright it was
outside, almost eleven o’clock. I had to close the curtains all the time, because people would take pictures through our windows. Crazy, you know? Still, looking out the window, you could just feel how nice and warm it was outside, what a beautiful day it would be to go for a picnic or do something in the park, call Mel and Knox, see if they could pick me up, maybe?

But then I remembered. I couldn’t even step outside my front door these days. There were camera crews that actually spent the night in the parking lot, in front of our house, in case I walk outside. People were actually camping in our parking lot, and sometimes I wanted to go out there and ask them, Do you honestly care about this story? Seriously, do you care enough about my life or is this just money to you? Because I didn’t think they cared at all. Really, you know how they say people see what they want to see? I’m not really so sure about that. Because the thing is, I haven’t seen anything I want to see. And now there was a movie being made, based on a true story, no matter what I do or don’t do. All I want to know is, what’s the true part?

(SIX MONTHS EARLIER)

6:00 PM

That first time, the first time Cam kissed me, it wasn’t really what I’d imagined. What I mean is, it didn’t happen the way I thought it would, with us sitting in his front seat or standing at my door, or even standing on the stairwell, in front of the building, where it’s dark. That’s where I always thought he’d kiss me, when I thought about it, but of course that’s not how it happened.

What happened is, on Saturday, when Cam picked me up, I got in, and he asked if I wanted to go for a drive. I said, Sure, where did he want to go? He said, Let’s take the back roads and see where we end up, and I couldn’t have cared less where we went or what we did. The thing is, I’ve lived here for three years now, but driving with him, it was like I’d never seen any of those towns or roads or ever been anywhere before. I took my old Nikon, and we talked, but mostly, we drove and watched. I didn’t feel stupid that I had nothing to say, I didn’t feel like I had to ask
him questions about himself or do anything. I could just be there, sitting beside him, and for once, I didn’t worry.