Imprint (15 page)

The words sent metaphorical shivers down Sean
’s spine. Despite everything that had happened
, Sean had always pictured Drew as selfish and obnoxious but not…
dangerous.
This was different. Even if Drew was just bluffing which he suspected,
he wasn’t
willing to risk Hayden and Ali’s
lives like that, not for him. It wasn’t fair to involve them in his own dilemma. “Okay,” he muttered finally in defeat. “Okay. I won’t let them find out.”

Drew smiled. “No outburst, no argument. That almost seemed too easy.”

Sean didn’t answer.
Did Drew really think he was just an obedient little dog, willing to be tugged around on a leash?
Drew held all of the cards except for one: the joker. The secret weapon. And while he couldn’t rely on help from others, he could work through it himself.
H
e woul
d try to make himself
solid, again. He would practice and perfect it even if it
did make him fade out quicker, because it
was hope
:
clear and bright, the starting point he’d been looking for.

Chapter 9:
Dirty little Secret
s

Power, that’s what it felt like. He cherished it and needed it and
craved
it. He wanted the control again, of his body and his life. 
In his sudd
enly perpetual spare time, he
m
ade an effort to practice
making
parts of himself solid as much as possible
. He cou
ld only do so when Drew wasn’t
around,
but
found to his
immense satisfaction that he’d
been right. The more he practiced the ability, the longer and more often
he could hold it for
. From what he
gathered, it just took a huge amount of concentration and energy.
Even if it didn’t make him any less invisible, even if it would sap all of his strength, it was something. And something was better than nothing, because he had nothing to lose.

The next few days flew by in a confusing blur of silent nights blen
ded brusquely into days
spent wandering the streets out of sheer boredom. It made Sean wonder how Drew had managed to do this for four years w
ithout going mad. He met other I
mprints on the street once or twice, but they were reclusive and unwilling to stop and talk to him, always hurrying in another direction with glassy eyes as if they had somewhere to go. With a shudder, Sean realised that being dead probably
did
drive you mad eventually.

“Where do they all go?” he asked Drew the day before they were due to go back to school. “The othe
r I
mprints I see on the street.
They never speak; they just keep going straight ahead. It’s like they’re sleep walking.”

“It happens to most of us eventually,” Drew replied, with s
teel tinted eyes. “Going mad, I mean.
You’ve never
properly
died, so you wouldn’
t understand, but t
his existence is the worst possible torture anyone can go through. Think about it: you can see the people you love, but they can’t see you. You can’t comfort them when you know it’s your death that’s causing them pain. You can’t sleep, you can’t forget, you have to go through every waking hour with a constant reminder of what you’ve left behind. And at night, when it’s quiet and lonely, you remember exactly how you died over and over again. Those who aren’t strong enough, those without a purpose, they just give up in the end.”

Sean was quiet
after that, surprised at the other boy’s honesty. It made him think that he, also, was hiding behind a mask. Maybe it was just because it was the first time he
had looked properly, but there was definitely sadness
in Drew’s
stony gaze.
  Death had so many different perspectives.
“What about your f
amily?”
he finally mustered the courage to ask.

“What about them?” Drew raised an eyebrow.

“Did you stay with them, after you died? Where are they now?”

“They left,” he replied simply, emotionlessly. Sean was surprised at the bland ton
e;
it didn’t suit him. “A while after I died, they moved to another town. Too many bad memories around here, I guess.”

“Didn’t you want to go with them?” Sean asked
.

“Y
es, of course. But I told you, didn’t I? Imprints have to stay close to where their bodies are buried, otherwise they fade out.”

“Oh,” was all Sean could say, feeling awkward, as if he had stumbled across something personal.
“What about Brian and Penny
though?
They seemed pretty sane to me.”

“Th
ose tw
o are among the lucky ones
because
they ha
ve each other
.”

“So
then
what about you?”

“Well, you’ve said enough times that I’m a psychopath,
haven’t you?
”
a wry grin flitted across Drew’s face, as if he found admitting his own mental instability endlessly amusing.

It was the most Sean could (and dared) to get out of
the enigmatic boy. It was true,
Drew was a ps
ychopath
. But weren’t they all nowadays?

When the alarm clock started ringing at the obscenely early hour of 6:30am on a rainy Monday morning, Sean almost did a double take.
It had been so long since he’d
heard anything ordinary and routine lik
e a mere alarm clock that he’d
almost forgotten what normal felt
like. He watched discreetly
as Drew woke up
, dark circles outlining his weary eyes, and put in contact lenses before tramping into the bathroom. Sean had watched the boy twisting and turning in his sleep all night, so was unsurprised by Drew’s obvious sullen mood. Funny, he thought to himself, it was as though the sky outside was a mirror for both of them.

The first thing Sean heard when they stepped onto the bus was
his
name being called out: “Sean! Over here!”
It was Ali. He
stared in bewilderment for a minute, purely stunned. The last time
he saw her, a week ago, she had been
just Ali.
Now, though,
her hair glinted a deep scarlet red
in the light, the colour of blood. There was something foreboding about it. Black accentuated her eyelashes, the make-up transforming her face into that of a perfect porcelain doll. A tank top was tucked into the new skirt that clun
g to her body, showing off her slender
waist and the slight curve of her hips. She’d lost weight. And yes, by modern-day standards she was beautiful, but by
his
standards she was unrecognisable.

Drew was surprised as well, he could tell by the way his mouth almost dropped open
,
but he recovered quickly. He had to, he was an actor.
He smiled at her in acknowledgement and limped
down the bus to
join
her. “Whoa,” he crowed in greeting.
“The hair. And the skirt. And…what happened?”

She blushed slightly. “Oh, noth
ing. I j
ust thought it
was time for a change. Do you
like it?”

“Yeah, I like it,” he did another of those ‘charming’ smile/smirks. “Really, I do.”

Watching them, Sean felt
queasy
.
E
very
thing Drew did or said was fake; h
e was simply an actor, playing a part to not rouse susp
icion. It made Sean wonder if
having a life
was
really
worth it if it wasn’t your own.

The first lessons passed by quickly. Falsely sympathetic faces without names came up to Drew with ‘get well soon’ smiles and ‘is it true you were ravaged by an escaped wolf?’ rumours. Word, sensible or not, travelled fast.
It made Sean think of little children playing Chinese whispers in the school courtyard, how the message could start out as ‘I like pork’ an
d end up as ‘seagulls have obtuse
beaks.’

“You’re handling all this attention surprisingly well, you know,” Ali commented once. “I’m surprised you haven’t stormed off yet to sulk.”

“I don’t think I’d get very far with this limp,” Drew replied. “Besides, it looks like all my favourite sulking spots are taken
by all of these annoying couples
.”

Ali laughed. “Well, I think the gloomy closet behind the English office is still free.”

“Oh, are you suggesting that
you want to come along?” h
e raised
an eyebrow
with an almost fer
al smirk
, ca
using the girl to blush
and smile. He wasn’t sure why
but
Sean felt angry, furious
. When was the last time Ali had smiled
for him like that?

It was lunch, though, when the subtle differences finally became n
ot so subtle anymore.
Liz
, a friend of theirs, refused to
sit with them. Sean also noticed that Ali seemed to be on good terms with Kim, one of the year 13 sluts, wh
om she had previously
avoided. She didn’t
eat any lunch. “
Aren’t you hungry?” Drew asked when he noticed.

She shook her head. “Not really.”

He offered her one of his own sandwiches. “Here, you should eat something.” Looking quite touched, she politely refused.
Sean shook his head in irritation, it was probably just another of those
‘girl things’.

The day lagged slowly to its end, like an exhausted
marathon runner heaving themselves
up the last hill to the finish line. The rain had finally let up in the afternoon and morose clouds
hung
overhead instead, grey and wispy plumes of smoke. The teachers struggled to control their classes, the students chattered. Drew and Ali were the only ones to diligently take no
tes. Then, once the last bell ra
ng, the corridors streamed
with students
and the percussion of locker doors being slammed shut
saturated the air
. Sean stood out of the way, still uncomfortable with being walked through.
Ali disappeared into the crowd quickly, but Drew stayed behind once
the majority of students had left. He walked purposefully towards one of the girls standing at the far end of the corridor, chatting quietly with a few others.

“Hey, Liz.”

The girl jum
ped in surprise and spun around, breaking off her previous conversation.
“Oh, it’s you.”

“Well, glad to know you remember me.”

Liz smiled warmly
in greeting
. “
How are you
?” she asked.

“I’ve been better,” Drew
admitted. “He
y, could you do me a favour
?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“
Can I talk to you
alone?”
he asked.

This set her friends off into giggles, but she only rolled her eyes at them. She probably already knew what he wanted to say.
Sean didn’t though, and he was utterly bemused. “Of course, let’s go outside,
” She
suggested, turning
to the other girls. “You guys go on ahead, okay?”

The two walked o
ut of the school building
into the deserted courtyard, and finally came to stop at a dilapidated bench.
Sean had never been particularly good friends with Liz, but he liked her.
She was nice enough, ordinary and
easy to be around. She was the sort of girl who stayed home at the weekend and did her homework, who had her mousy brown hair up in the same
practical
ponytail every day.

“Sit,” Drew
offered. “It’s been a while since we’ve talked.”

She nodded, doing so as he joined her. “I know, it has
been
. Are you
sure you’re
okay?”

“I’m improving,” he said. “
Walking is still a pain, but luckily I don’t need crutches.”