Safe Landing (17 page)

“Really. Emily used to think it very romantic.”

“Yes, but you were flesh and blood then. Not vapor. And why does it always smell like almond when you pop in? Did you eat a lot of marzipan when you were alive?”

“I hated marzipan. But when the headaches started, I remember the constant bitter taste of almond in my mouth.”

“That’s bizarre. I’ve never heard of a disease with almond aftertaste.”

“I think it had to do with the exotic tea my uncle would force me to drink. He insisted it would help my headaches. But they only grew worse.”

“He forced you to drink funny tasting tea and you got even sicker?” I glanced at the clock on my nightstand, pushed off the bed, and rummaged through my closet for a dress to wear to Hank’s. “Sebastian, did you ever consider that your uncle may have been trying to kill you?”

My white-striped sundress with the halter top coasted out of my closet. “This one,” Sebastian said. “My uncle was a wretched man, no doubt. After he became mayor, he made many enemies, including Emily’s father. But a murderer? It seems unfathomable.”

“But he beat you.” Then I looked away from him figuring that I’d probably embarrassed him. “I’m sorry. It was a rumor I’d heard.”

He floated to his favorite perch on the window and stared down. “It’s true. As I said, he was truly a wretched man.”

A change in subject was in order. “You’ll never guess where I’m going tonight.”

“Out with the long haired boy? The one who picked you up the other night?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I’m going to the Warner’s house.”

With a blink, he was sitting on my desk. “You did it?” Then his expression darkened. “I thought you said he was terrible. Don’t do anything risky, Brazil. I could not live with my…”

My eyes opened wide, and we both laughed.

“You know what I mean. If this boy is not honorable, then don’t put yourself in danger.”

I picked up some fake diamond studs from my dresser and put them in my ears. “He is definitely not honorable, but I’m not a fool. I can take care of myself.”

My jewelry box lid opened and a pair of silver hoops floated out. “Wear these.”

I glared at him for a minute, reluctantly pulled out the studs, and put in the hoops. “I’m living with a ghost who is a freakin’ fashion critic. I think I have an idea for a new reality show. Dead Guy Makeover.”

I grabbed my hooded sweatshirt off the back of my chair, and Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Why do I bother?”

“Hey, if I find the diary, I can’t exactly hide in under a sundress.” I pulled on the sweatshirt. “Besides, my shoulders are burned and it’s making me cold.

He nodded and his expression darkened. His image wavered with the change in emotion. “I don’t know now, Brazil. What if she hadn’t loved me at all? Maybe it’s best I don’t know.”

I pushed my sleeves back and held out my forearms. Bruises had formed on both.

“My God, did that Warner brute do that to you?” Icy wind shot around the room and several papers flew off my desk.

“Relax. It was only a game of volleyball. Hank did not cause the bruises. Well, at least technically he didn’t.”

The atmosphere in my room stabilized again. Sebastian floated closer to look at my arms. His image blurred as he neared. “What was the ball made of? Iron?”

I smiled. “About halfway through the game, it felt like it. But the pain was worth it. It got me invited to the Warner’s house.”

“Brazil, dinner,” Mom called.

“I hope it’s not hot dogs.” I checked my hair in the mirror and turned back to Sebastian. “Wish me luck.” My ghostly roommate looked concerned. “Don’t worry, I know how to take care of myself.” I stopped at the doorway and looked back. Sebastian was sitting on my desk staring down at his own letters. He had that same sulky look I’d seen on Seth today. Sebastian pulled if off pretty well too. “And Sebastian—”

His face turned up.

“—if she didn’t love you, then she was a fool.” I walked out with his image still sitting on my desk.

“Eat something before you go.” Mom dug the keys from her purse and placed them on the table.

Tyler and Raymond were devouring the pan of nachos on the table.

“You should have seen the game.” A string of melted cheese hung from Tyler’s chin.

I handed him a napkin. “Did you win?”

Raymond shrugged. “Of course. Now that we’re on the team. I’m catcher.”

“Really?” I put a small scoop of nachos on my plate. “I’m surprised that bloated head of yours fits in the catcher’s mask.

“Yes, guys, a little humility please. Zilly, is that all you’re going to eat?”

“I had a bunch of junk at the party today, Mom. I feel like a fat cow.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Is your dad still coming tomorrow?”

I nodded and gulped ice water. “He hasn’t cancelled yet.”

“Remind him he needs to pay for the insurance on a car too.”

“You remind him. It’s not like you speak different languages.”

Mom sat down and served herself. “Will there be parents at this party?”

“Not sure.”

“Brazil,” Mom said in her concerned mom’s tone.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to stay long.” I pushed a chip into my mouth.

“Stay as long as you want,” Mom interjected. She was under the illusion that I was on track to make a bunch of new friends and this made her happy. I decided to let her live with the fantasy for a while.

I must have been hungrier than I thought because I cleaned my plate.  Mom was about to serve me some more, but I put up my hand to stop her. “I’ve got to run up and brush my teeth. Then I’m off.”

“Brazil’s got some kissing plans,” Tyler sang then shoveled a bean covered chip into his mouth. Raymond laughed with a full mouth.

“I know this will come as a shocking revelation to both of you, but some people make teeth brushing a habit.”

“We brush our teeth,” Raymond insisted.

“No, I mean daily and with toothpaste.”

I rushed upstairs to brush. Sebastian appeared on the rim of the tub. “Are you planning on kissing someone?”

“Not you too,” I mumbled through a mouthful of paste. I rinsed and wiped my mouth on a towel. “I try to brush after every meal because cavities suck.”

“You’re tense.”

I leaned to the mirror to put on some lip gloss. “I’ve never gone on a spy mission before. I feel like I’m going in to steal top secret documents.”

“You are very pretty, Brazil.”

I smiled back at him in the mirror. “For a trash talking rabbit.”

“No, I mean for a girl.”

“You don’t have to waste your flattery on me. I told you I was going to look for the diary.”

“You won’t let yourself believe it, will you?”

I turned and leaned against the counter. “Believe what?”

“You are an incredible girl.”

My cheeks warmed, and suddenly, I wished guys nowadays were more like him. His words weren’t just some insincere flattery used to get into my pants. He meant what he said, and the way he said it made me feel good.

Mom was at the bottom of the stairs. “Zilly, if you’re talking to your dad, tell him the boys want to go for pizza after you look for cars.”

“It’s not
my
dad,” I called back down. “I hate when she refers to him as
your
dad like he’s totally not related to her in any way.”

“Truthfully, he isn’t.”

“You know what I mean.” I headed out of the bathroom but twisted around at the last minute. Sebastian was still there. His eyes looked darker and softer than usual, and his mouth was set in a somber, serious line. “Remember, no promises,” I whispered and trotted down the stairs and out the door.

Hank’s house reminded me of something out of a family sitcom. Everything was clean and orderly with no hint of style or taste. There was a group of his friends hovering around a keg in the kitchen, which he claimed his father had bought for them. Dad must have been as rubber brained as his son.

Two girls joined the party. I’d never seen either of them at school, but they also looked like the type I would avoid if I had seen them. Both of them were wearing tight mini-skirts and tube tops, showing off the tan lines they’d earned today. The only difference between them was one wore blue eye shadow and one wore pink. They greeted me with synchronized sneers.

Hank put a possessive hand on my lower back. I tried to inch away from it without being too obvious. “Guys, this is Brazil.”

“Great volleyball game,” some extra large guy with a tattoo covering most of his massive arm said from behind his paper cup of beer foam.

“Thanks.”

Hank picked up a filled cup from the counter and offered it to me.

“I’m not really into beer. Besides, I drove here tonight.”

Major disappointment inched into Hank’s otherwise expressionless face. “That’s cool.”

It was obvious his plans of getting me drunk were ruined. He swallowed back the cup himself, and it occurred to me that beer might just be my savior tonight. If Hank got drunk enough, it might be easier to go fishing around in his closet.

“So were you on the volleyball team at your old school?” the girl with blue eyelids asked.

“No, my sport was equitation.”

My answer had elicited the puzzled looks I’d expected. “Does that have to do with math?” the same girl inquired.

“OMG, you are stupid,” the girl with pink eye shadow giggled.

“Then what is it?” blue girl snapped to her pink friend.

The girl stood open mouthed for a second then shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m sure it has nothing to do with math.”

“Horses,” I interjected quickly hoping to put an abrupt end to their mind-numbing conversation. “I jumped horses.”

“Oh,” they responded together.

“Cool. Did you ride in a blue bikini?” Hank said with his limitless vocabulary to back him up. A couple of his friends raised their paper cups in a toast to his asinine comment. This was going to be a long night. I hoped they finished off the keg quickly and that beer would not make Hank a bigger ass than he was sober.

The pool table in Hank’s family room kept me from having to converse much with people at the party. As they got drunker, their topics became stupider. I half expected them to start a debate about the earth being flat. Hank was having a hard time standing straight. When his pool stick nearly ripped the green table felt, that was my cue to find the infamous closet under the stairs.

I handed off my stick to the blue girl who had not stopped giggling since she spilled a cup of beer down her shirt. “Which way to the bathroom?” I asked.

Hank’s stick nearly wiped out the glass lamp over the table as he pointed down the hall. “Up the stairs and on your right.”

Pink girl and the guy with the tattoo sleeve were making out at the top of the stairs. Obviously, four more steps to the bedroom were too much. Underneath the stairwell was a triangular opening with a white paneled door. I hoped Hank’s mom’s neatness continued to the closet. It might attract attention if I had to start pulling out skis, umbrellas, and brooms. The two lovers at the top of the stairs were too into each other to notice me, so I opened the door.

I hadn’t met the woman, and she’d raised a horrible son, but I liked her housekeeping style. Everything was neatly tucked away in boxes on shelves. The floorboards were still exposed. I didn’t know much about flooring, but the wood looked old and original. Footsteps plodded down the hall, so I hunched down inside the dark closet leaving the door only slightly ajar. The loud, clumping steps had to be Hank’s.

“Shit, get a room you two. Did you see Brazil walk by?”

There was no answer, only some grunts and moans.

“Fuck it, I need another brewsky,” Hank grumbled and lumbered back to the family room.

Who knew that a keg of beer could be such a lifesaver? I knocked on the wood plank floor beneath me hoping for a hollow sound. They all sounded hollow. More footsteps made me scoot back further in the closet. A board moved beneath my heel. There was a slim gap between the wood planks. I waited for the footsteps to pass, then I pushed my fingertips into the narrow sliver and pulled. The board lifted. I had to reach in blindly, which freaked me out because I was sure there had to be rats below. There was definitely a lot webs. I decided to wipe off them on the bottom of a coat hanging nearby in hopes that it was Hank’s. I pushed my arm in deeper, scraping my bruised flesh on the side of the plank. My fingers brushed something solid, something that wasn’t dust or cobwebs. My hand wrapped around it. I hoped I wasn’t dragging out some fossilized animal carcass.

I blew away the dust and stared down at a discarded piece of wood. No diary. I had ruined my chances with Seth and cozied up to the worst guy at school for a rotted piece of wood. Emily’s diary had no doubt traveled with her to New York. I mean it made sense. What girl would leave it behind no matter how quickly she was whisked away from home? Worst of all, I would have to break the news to my lovesick roommate that he might be stuck in this world forever, never to know if Emily truly loved him.