On the Fringe (5 page)

Still, it wasn’t her outfit or even the crazy hair that had me staring, but my own curiosity of meeting another ghost for the first time. Obviously this being stuck thing didn’t happen to everyone who died, or else there’d be a lot more of us bumping into each other. So what was
her
deal? Why was she here?

I gave her a nod, hoping for some sort of response, but she just looked away, disinterested.
Fine
. I ignored her and kept looking for Claire as the chills faded along with any interest in my fellow ghost.

After two more classrooms without any luck, I finally found Claire in room E-9 sitting at her desk and looking off in the other direction. But she didn’t look like the Claire I remembered. Something was definitely wrong. She was gazing out through the towering wall of windows reflecting the morning sun, past the bald, blabbering teacher and the ticking clock, beyond the present and off to some other place. She seemed stuck…just like me.

Her face said it all.

That was when I understood there was no message for me. At least, not one with some magical spell capable of sending me off to heaven. No, Claire was broken.
Lost
. Alone. I’d never seen her eyes look so tired. I could feel her emotions like heat from the sun as they bounced across the room toward me and soaked into my soul.

Outside the classroom, I sunk down beneath the pane of windows next to a yellow rosebush and a busy anthill, wishing to wring out this swelling sadness inside me that had suddenly appeared without warning. But nothing could be purged without a body—no crying, no exertion, no pills to take away the pain or calm me down.
Nothing
. Instead, something ballooned inside me until I felt like I might explode. All I could do was sit there and drown in it, wondering why Claire affected me so much, wondering if she always would.

CHAPTER THREE
THE FOG

Claire

Matthew, Addie and I tried acting normal around each other, but everything felt strange and different and wrong. How could we have expected anything else? It was like I lost everyone that day, not just Daniel.

Addie floated away in her own bubble of counterfeit composure, fooling everyone else but me, refusing to let anyone see her in pain. She seemed unreachable, at least for anything more than the current configuration of the school’s popularity chain. It bothered me to watch her act so alive and unaffected knowing it was just that: an act. I felt much better shut up inside my self-made pity cocoon instead of faking happiness in front of the world. Of course, Mom and Dad were not happy with the way I chose to cope. They kept comparing me to Addie, asking me why I couldn’t turn to them or to my friends for support instead of keeping everything inside. I told them it was none of their business, and to get lost (okay, that part I just said in my head when I was really mad at them).

Pretty soon, Matthew was hanging around us less and less, until he vanished altogether into a new group of friends who had never even known Daniel—friends who had no idea that the old Matthew had been swallowed up by a new, guarded one, by someone unrecognizable to the rest of us. We all tiptoed around him for months, not sure what to say or do…how could any of us understand what he was going through?

I had a pretty good idea, because even months after that awful night, I still felt paralyzed. Although I tried not to dwell on Daniel, it was impossible to push him out of my mind. Ever since the funeral, I kept thinking about the Daniel I thought I knew but obviously didn’t. Sure, he was cute—especially with his perfect smile and the way he made everyone else happy just by walking into the room. But I was starting to see that the ache inside me persisted mostly because I was just learning who Daniel
really
was beneath all that charm.

Which was worse—regret or grief? Because I could feel
both
carving themselves into my heart, and the pain only seemed to get worse as the months dragged on.

Toward the middle of August, Mom and Dad organized one last family outing together before the start of the new school year. Matthew was going off to college in a few weeks, so I guessed it was their way of prolonging his childhood. We both went along with the plan, not really caring where we were going as long as they quit bugging us about life and everything in it.

Silently, Matthew and I sat together in the back seat, having since lost the ability to act ‘normal’ with each other after that unspeakable night. Now, it seemed that Matthew was always plugged into headphones—a permanent accessory to his blond-buzzed head. As he gazed out the window, I peeked at him, surprised by the sadness that seemed to be radiating from his blank, glossy eyes. They were still strikingly blue, but now seemed to be missing the intensity that used to take me by surprise. I wondered if I’d ever see his smile again.

Once Dad veered off the highway, I knew exactly where we were headed as we climbed up a steep hill that wound its way into the forest. Matthew was still stuck in a passive trance, but my eyes were wide open, bouncing back and forth while trying to peer through the dense fog that wove in and out of the trees. It looked like a ghost had dressed up the forest in tulle.

After parking, we climbed the stone steps leading up to the front of the planetarium, and made our way through the glass-walled lobby. At the risk of sounding like a science nerd, I had to admit that the planetarium was pretty cool, especially for not having roller coasters or fried food. There was something mysterious about the way it sat nestled up among the haunting pines and redwoods—a bit magical, if you ask me.

Once inside, Matthew immediately abandoned us, silently slipping away into one of the dark theaters. Following his lead, I left my parents and their credit card at the front desk, ignoring Mom’s protests that we all stick together as a family. That was the last thing I wanted to do right then. I could hear Dad trying to pacify Mom, who was already complaining about the family’s inability to stick to the plan (
her
plan), but their voices were fading quickly. All I knew was I neededto escape.

After slipping away from the noise up three flights of stairs to the top floor, I stumbled upon a massive row of floor-to-ceiling windows that transformed the billowy fog into stunning rectangular pieces of art. Even without the sun, it was amazing how bright everything was up there, and I made sure to slow down a little and try to take it all in.

Just beyond the windows was the door leading out to the observatory deck. I pushed through it into the chilly fog, and followed a narrow walkway leading out to a viewing platform. Wishing I’d brought my jacket, I did my best to stop shivering by wrapping my arms around myself. Yet, despite the cold, my heart was flying. I felt like a tower perched high above the trees, surrounded by a thick battalion of fog—a breath of fresh air after months of depression. For a second, even thoughts of Daniel’s death left me.

My glasses fogged up as usual, so I shoved them in my pocket and kept on going. What was the difference out here, anyway? Everything looked blurry, but maybe that was the point, wasn’t it? To cloud out the world around me, and forget everything?

Reaching out to the low, cement wall in front of me, I gripped the metal rail running along the top edge, and slowly followed it to the far end of the platform. Since I’d been here before, I knew the fog was hiding a hundred-foot drop to the ground below—but that didn’t keep me from leaning out over the wall. With my hands firmly gripping the rail, and my knees locked in place, I leaned forward and let the upper half of my body go.

I felt free, almost like flying as I gazed out over the translucent expanse. The cool air floated through my lungs, making me feel bold, even careless, like staring death in the face and daring it to take me like it took Daniel. A flash of anger shot through me when I thought about how fragile we were, and for a second, I wondered if anyone would even notice. All it would take was one final breath as I let go of the rail and dove into the void….

Peace.

Quiet.

My heart sped up, and it felt like someone was sneaking up behind me.

Quickly, I pulled myself back to solid ground and spun around, nervously looking around for any sign of a visitor. But nobody was there. Just white. And quiet. And the sound of my own breathing.

Ignoring my racing heartbeat, I turned around and leaned over the edge again. But a faint voice inside my head held me back. “Stop, Claire. You’re going to fall.”

I hesitated, listening for more, and then inched out a little further. “Don’t be stupid, Claire,” the voice warned again, resonating inside my head like I could feel it, like it had its own presence within me. “Get away from the edge
.
”

Instantly I obeyed, cautiously shuffling backwards until a door handle brushed up against my back.

I scanned the deck again. But I was still alone.

My mind went quiet.

Positive I’d heard a voice, a real voice deep and soothing, even though I had no explanation, I stared blankly out into the white expanse with my back to the door, wondering what had just happened.

As the quiet lingered, my heart slowed, and the fog thickened around me.

Daniel

Who would’ve thought I’d end up being Claire’s guardian
ghost?
The idea was laughable. I’m not even sure how it worked that day with the fog, except for the fact that Claire acted like she could hear me—and somehow I’d kept her from falling.

I never even really warned her; it just happened to be what I was thinking when she started leaning over the edge of the deck. Next thing I knew, I heard myself telling her to move. And she listened.

Right then it felt like I’d found my purpose. Claire was safe, and for once, I was content.
Finally
. After so long, I felt at peace.

Maybe Claire didn’t have answers for me like I thought.

Maybe Claire
was
the answer.

CHAPTER FOUR
SWEET SIXTEEN

Claire

Thoughts of Daniel continued to consume me the rest of the summer and on into the new school year, no matter how much I tried to “move on.” So, when my sixteenth birthday came around, it was bittersweet. However, my family insisted on a celebration.

That warm September night, Addie, the future wedding planner, took over the party by inviting a few other friends for a day of organized crazy, eventually ending in a sleepover under the stars. Forget that I just wanted to go to an expensive restaurant with fancy desserts. I didn’t even like camping, so I had no idea what Addie was thinking. Still, she set up camp on my front lawn that, like an unfurled picnic blanket, practically spread right down to the lake. According to Addie, it was the perfect spot, because once the porch lights were off, it was dark enough to see the stars and quiet enough to hear the crickets. Basically, it was like camping without the bears and porta-potties. I couldn’t argue with that.

Of course the whole night Addie kept begging us to play stupid games like Capture the Flag and flashlight tag, like we were still in elementary school. Before long, everything about my birthday was starting to feel like fifth grade all over again, minus the braces and truth or dare. I was about to tell Addie to forget the lame entertainment and just let us go to sleep, but when I looked at her and saw in her animated eyes something I hadn’t seen since May fifteenth, I realized that for the first time in months, Addie looked genuinely happy.

Reluctantly, I drummed up some enthusiasm and crawled out of the tent with a flashlight, ready to play Addie’s game, grateful it was only tag and not something really embarrassing like skinny-dipping or strip poker, both things to look forward to as she got more bored and less creative.

Everyone took off running in different directions, and I headed toward the lake. No one seemed to make a sound. All I could hear was my own breathing and the steady shuffling of my footsteps along the gravel as I moved down the hill, trying to decide where to go next.

Veering off the path, I tripped over an old log hidden in the grass, and dropped the flashlight on my big toe. Instead of screaming out in pain, I held my breath and watched the flashlight roll away from me, down the hill toward the lake. I listened for it to hit the water, but could only hear my own thumping heart.

Annoyed that I was stranded in the dark beneath a useless moon, I kicked the stupid log for tripping me up, and then started back up the steep hill. A few steps later, I slipped and lost my balance again. As the ground spun beneath my feet, I careened backward. A sharp pain shot through my head at the same time the shock of water splashed over me. Instinctively, I held my breath as the cool water seemed to hold me. For a moment I drifted in a daze, and then felt myself beginning to sink.

It was almost impossible to see anything under the water. I had no idea where I’d fallen in the lake or why I couldn’t push myself up. It was like a haze of darkness had settled over my mind, preventing any part of me from cooperating. No longer able to hold my breath, terror shot through me as reality hit.
I was going to drown.

A sickening sensation arose in my stomach, pushing past the searing pain in my head and the burning in my lungs. I couldn’t get past the flood of panic overtaking my brain, telling me over and over again that I was about to die.

Daniel

As soon as Claire hit the water, I looked around and shouted for help, but Addie and her friends were off somewhere else. Not that they could hear me, anyway.

I didn’t know what to do. Claire was drowning, and I couldn’t move a pebble if I had to, much less pull someone out of the lake. Instantly, I shifted under the water, and found her limp body sinking away from me in slow motion. I watched in disbelief. Was this really it for Claire? I couldn’t believe I’d been compelled to stay behind for,
what
…just to watch her die? So soon? This couldn’t be right.