Ghosting (9 page)

And in that

moment,

in that

one little

squeeze,

I felt a

big weight

slide off

my heart.

Thanks, Emma,
I whispered.

Hey, Faith,
Emma said abruptly, turning to look at me again.

Yeah?
I said.

You’re beautiful, you know. And smart. Really smart.

Me?
I was taken aback.

Yes. More than me. Which is okay.

Emma saying

it’s okay that

anyone

is
more

anything

than her,

well, that was

a moment

to freeze

in time.

Thanks,
I said again.

Emma settled

onto her back,

looking up

at the sky.

Oh, and I wouldn’t give up on the whole marriage thing,
she said.
By the time you’re ready, I’m thinking maybe it won’t matter so much anymore who you marry, long as you love ’em.

And then

she suddenly

jumped up,

off the

hammock,

laughing,

and pulled

me off, too.

C’mon, Miss Bridezilla, let’s go see if we can find some batteries and get that transistor radio to work.

I followed

her in,

smiling at

the crisscross

pattern

of the wet

hammock

on the back

of her

purple gown.

The memory

of that night

makes me

smile.

And

I think

about

how much

I love

my big sister

and her

uncanny

way of

surprising me.

Out-of-the-

blue stuff,

sometimes

bad,

but sometimes

very, very

good.

Sunday, August 29, 12:15 a.m.

MAXIE

We’re driving around aimlessly,

eating fries,

drinking milk shakes.

How about we go to that new 3-D slasher movie
, Brendan says.
Body parts flying at you and shit.

Cool!
says Emma.

Ew,
giggles Chloe.

I’m broke,
says Felix.

I don’t say anything.

Emma turns around

and stares

at me.

Then leans her head back

and laughs.

Holy crap, Maxie,
she says loudly,
I just remembered how freaking terrified you were of scary movies. Remember that sleepover in 4th grade when you hid in the closet and wouldn’t come out and your mom had to come pick you up?

Like I could forget.

But, hey, thanks, Emma,

for the reminder.

Yeah, I’ve never been big on blood and guts,
I say, trying to sound like I think it’s all one big joke.
Rules out med school anyway.

Lame, I know.

But Anil laughs.

Something scary sounds good,
says Emma.

Brendan pops open another

MoonBuzz.

Scaring Emma sounds like my kind of challenge,
he says.

Great, I think,

remembering with a shudder

what’s sitting in

the glove

compartment.

BRENDAN

What about you, Bren?
Emma says.
Is there anything you’re scared of?

And guess what’s the first thing

that comes into my head.

My dad. Which is bullshit,

because I’m not. Not really.

He hasn’t hit me since I

started working out.

Though I can’t lie, his words sometimes

do a pretty good job.

But I start talking about a double black diamond

ski run I made once in Colorado.

It was awesome.

Closest I came to dying.

Where was it?
asks Emma’s friend Maxie.

Mary Jane Mountain,
I start saying,
up in Winter—

That’s where I learned to ski, in Winter Park!
she interrupts, her face all lit up.
I loved it there.

I loved it there, too,
I say, remembering.
Felt like I was on the top of the fucking world. Never felt so free . . .

And I did, too. Haven’t felt

that way since.

It was the next day, on the

same run, that I broke my leg.

Dad was pissed as hell.

But it was so worth it.

Bren?
asks Emma.

Sorry, just remembering that wipeout. Epic. Anyway, it’s you we want to scare, right?

Right.
She grins back at me.

What about a little game of chicken on the railroad tracks?
I say.

Not funny,
she says, losing the grin.

She’s still pissed about what happened

earlier this summer.

I guess I did push it

a little far.

Okay, okay. I’m sure I can come up with something better,
I say.

MAXIE

For just a second there,

I found myself actually

liking Brendan.

When he was talking about skiing

Mary Jane.

But now I keep my eyes

straight ahead,

while he jokes about ways to

scare Emma.

Trying not to think about

that gun

and why he would have it in his

glove compartment.

I know. Let’s go ghosting,
Chloe suddenly pipes up from the backseat.

There’s a brief silence.

Then Brendan turns around

to look at her.

That’s so hyphy of you, Chloe,
he says, with a smirk.

What’s hyphy?
asks Anil.

Nothing,
says Emma.
Just Brendan showing how gangsta he is.

Yeah, let’s go ghostridin’ the whip,
Brendan says.

His smirk has turned into a laugh,

but now I can tell

that at least this time

he’s laughing at himself,

a white-bread lacrosse player

pretending to be

California hip-hop.

And what’s that?
asks Anil.

Don’t encourage him,
says Emma.

Think we need a little demonstration,
says Brendan.

Brendan, don’t you dare . . . ,
says Emma.

Ignoring her,

he slows the car down.

So you put the car in drive,
Brendan says,
and then you do this . . .

And he opens his door,

and suddenly jumps out of

the moving car,

doing these

herky-jerky dance moves

next to the car as it

rolls forward.

Get the hell back in the car,
shouts Emma.

She leans over, grabbing

the steering wheel.

He ignores her

and then

jumps up

on the hood.

Shit,
says Emma, moving sideways into the driver’s seat.

She steps on the brake slowly

so Brendan won’t be

thrown off,

but he slides backward anyway,

almost to the end of the hood.

But then he wriggles back up,

smooshing his face up

against the windshield

with a maniacal

grin.

Stop it, Bren,
Emma yells, opening the car door wide.

And he slides off the hood

and jumps back

in the car,

shoving Emma into the

passenger seat.

You’re such a dick,
she says, pushing back.

Brendan just laughs.

You guys, I meant ghosting, as in looking for ghosts,
calls Chloe from the backseat.

So she wasn’t talking about the

ghosting I remember

from when I was a little girl.

the one with

Tootsie Rolls

and running away,

giggling.

Like in a cemetery or something,
Chloe adds, putting on some fresh lip gloss.

Emma twists around

with a big

smile.

Great idea! That’s the kind of scary shit I love.

I know you do,
says Chloe.

Emma glances at me

and even though I’m trying

to keep my face

blank,

I’m sure she can read me.

Like everybody

always

can.

Unless it’s too scary for you, Maxie,
Emma says.

It’s cool,
I say,
long as there aren’t any flying body parts.

Anil laughs again.

Either he’s an easy laugh,

or he’s nervous,

like I’m nervous.

Where could we go?
Emma says.
The cemetery on Elm, maybe.

Has anyone here ever seen a ghost?
asks Chloe.

Wait, I know!
says Emma.
What about that house way up on the north side, near the big cemetery, the one on McKinley Road?

No one says

anything.

Come on, you know,
says Emma, impatient
. Kids call it the “ghost house” because it’s all run-down and overgrown.

Oh yeah,
says Chloe.

Perfect,
says Brendan.

And he turns the car around.

ANIL

1.
When Chloe said ghosting,

first thing I thought about

was when you get a double image

on a TV screen

because of distortion

or multipath image signal.

That’s how much of a nerd I am.

Not much of a believer in

paranormal stuff.

But I am a believer in karma.

And the moment Brendan

jumped out of the car

and did that crazy dance

I got a bad feeling.

Bad karma.

FAITH

I’m in my

bedroom,

reading.

Polly is

restless.

Wants to

go out.

Wants to

go in.

Mom and

Dad are

in the

kitchen.

I can

hear them.

Fighting.

Voices loud,

then louder.

I creep

out to

the top

of the stairs,

and perch

there,

quiet and

still, listening.

You’re too soft,
Mom says.

You’re too rigid,
Dad says.

Emma runs this house.

Let her have her fun.

We’re the parents.

They’re only young once.

Suddenly

quiet.

Then,

a sob in

Mom’s voice.

If I have to, I’ll leave. I’ll take the girls and leave.

A door

slams.

ANIL

1.
Chloe lays her hand on my belt buckle,

starts fiddling, like she wants to

unbuckle it.

I brush her hand away.

She giggles.

And it’s almost like one of those

enchantment tales.

The fairy dust falls away

from your eyes

and you see the frog as a prince,

or prince as a frog.

In this case, princess.

Chloe Carney,

just as beautiful as she was

three hours ago,

her hair the same gleaming honey color,

her smile sweet,

her blue eyes just as bright.

But something between us

has evaporated.

like that crystal-growing science experiment

I did as a kid.

Except what was

left behind then

was something beautiful—

translucent, multifaceted crystals.

What’s left behind here isn’t

beautiful or ugly.

It’s just gone.

And not because

I’m seeing her drunk,

or because of her giggles.

And it’s not even gone on account of

that smile of Maxie’s.

(At least I don’t think so.)

I just know I don’t belong here,

with Chloe, with her friends.

2.
The problem is,

I don’t want to make her sad,

disappoint her.

Still,

we don’t fit anymore,

we probably never did.

And I think she knows it, too.

MAXIE

Brendan takes a turn too fast.

My head jerks

off the headrest.

Jesus, Bren,
says Emma.

Felix’s eyes blink open.

Could he actually have been

asleep?

He closes them again.

I wish I were anywhere

but here.

From behind me

I can hear Chloe giggling,

then Anil’s voice,

soft,

like he’s deliberately trying

not to be overheard.

Well, sor-ry,
comes Chloe’s voice, loud and annoying.

She leans forward,

tapping my shoulder.

Any more MoonBuzz?

Obedient,

I open

the cooler.

Me, too,
says Emma.

I hand them both a colorful can,

looking down at my

ruined shirt.

Why can’t I just say

I want to go home?

Is it because deep down

I actually care

what these girls think of me?

Especially Emma?

Like it would be some kind of

social suicide

to break up the party?

Pathetic.

I wasn’t like that in Colorado.

It’s being back here,

the new/old thing.

Just get me through tonight,

I breathe,

clenching

and

unclenching

my hands.

So
has
anyone ever seen a real ghost?
asks Chloe again since no one ever answered when she asked before.

She’s still leaning forward,

away from Anil,

sipping her

MoonBuzz.

I wish,
says Emma.

Remember how we used to do that Mary Worth thing?
asks Chloe.