Spirits of Spring (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 4) (31 page)

BOOK: Spirits of Spring (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 4)
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“Zach, I’m sorry about the whole Lucas thing but really
it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. I was more torn between having a
normal life with someone I liked and having a messed up one
with someone I loved.” I reached out and touched his hand and
watched as his anger slowly melted away. “But in the end, the
decision was easier than it seemed. I don’t care if my life is
crazy—I just want to share my crazy with you.”

“That has to be the most oddly romantic thing you’ve
ever said to me. But I like it.”

Zach smiled back at me with that special smile he only
reserved for me.
That smile was missing for so long that I
almost forgot that it existed. I never wanted to forget it again.
Before he could change his expression, I whipped out my phone
and snapped a quick pic of it.

With phone in hand, I realized that I could use it to try
to find an address for Sophie. When Zach asked me what I was
looking for, I had to lie. Clay was in the backseat and I didn’t
want him to know that I was looking for her. So instead, I said
that I was pulling up the restaurant choices near Pendleton so
that we could stop for lunch before heading to the campus
because I was starving. It wasn’t too far from the truth either—
I was too upset to have breakfast and I knew that I would be
ready to gnaw my own arm off by the time we hit the Ohio
border.

My search yielded two women with that name.
The
first one was an eighty year old woman living in Nebraska—
clearly not Clay’s Sophie. At least I hoped not. The second one
was not even remotely what I was hoping to find. While I was
pretty certain that the girl whose info was now on my screen
was the Sophie Wester I was looking for, I was astounded by
what I’d found. Her last listed address was in Rockview, a small
town about ten miles northeast of where we were heading. I
still wanted to look for her but I couldn’t do it with Clay looking
over my shoulder.
What I found out about her was a shock
even to me—I had to be one hundred percent certain that this
website was accurate before I disclosed any information to
Clay. Looking for her today was out of the question. I would
have to do more thorough research before attempting that.
Disheartened, I quickly brought up a list of restaurants and
made a hasty choice.

“How does Mexican sound? There’s a place called
Cozumel just off campus. Their menu looks good and I haven’t
had Mexican since leaving Trinity.” I laughed to myself when I
thought of the last time Lee and I ate at Taco Loco. He would
always take me there after we had a huge fight—to make up for
being a jerk.
The funniest part of it was that Mexican was
his
favorite, not mine. It was like he was apologizing to himself,
instead of me. At the time, it would almost make me madder
than whatever he’d done to upset me in the first place.
But
now, looking back on it, it was a good memory and one I would
cherish fondly. Finally, I’d gotten to a place where I accepted
his death and wasn’t constantly tortured by it. One sigh of
relief in my otherwise relief-free existence.

“Sounds perfect,” Zach replied. “I haven’t had Mexican
since last summer when we were in Erie.
We need a Mexican
restaurant in Charlotte’s Grove.”

“No, we don’t,” I said catching the absurdity of his
comment. “We aren’t going to
be
in Charlotte’s Grove for much
longer.
So in fact, we now
do
have a Mexican restaurant—
Cozumel.”

“I guess you’re right—we do. I want out of my dad’s
house so bad but I keep forgetting how close I am to making
that a reality. Time is actually flying by but it doesn’t feel like
it.”

After that comment, Zach became sullen and
silent.
We’d already had enough heavy conversation for the drive
out—I would save the topic of their fights for the ride back.
Right now, I needed to lighten the mood. I flipped through the
radio stations until I found something fun. I found what I was
looking for on 97.6.

As the opening notes of the song sounded through the
speakers, I knew instantly what it was. Bohemian Rhapsody by
Queen. Wayne’s World was one of my dad’s favorite movies
and we used to watch it together when I was younger.
The
scene with them in the car was his favorite. He used to sing
along and I begged him to teach me the words so that I could
join him. My singing voice was terrible but dad never seemed
to mind.

I cranked up the volume and belted out the lyrics as we
drove.
After the first few lines, Zach laughed and joined in.
Once we got to the chorus, I discovered that we were now a
trio. A quick glance in the rear view made me giggle as I caught
Clay head banging to the music. As I watched Zach tap out the
rhythm on the steering wheel with his hands, I made a mental
note for one other thing I wanted to discuss with him on the
ride back. Drumming. I kind of thought that I knew why he
stopped but that didn’t completely explain why he never went
back to it. It used to be important to him so, therefore, it was
now important to me.

When we got to the part with the falsetto voice, both
boys bowed out but I kicked my singing into high gear.
My
voice
was
terrible but
the moment
was
priceless.
They
mimicked the lightning bolts for me and everything. When Clay
popped his head between the seats and pretended to be sick
just like in the movie, I totally lost it. I simply couldn’t sing
while I was laughing so hard.
I realized that it was another
good photo opportunity so I dug out my phone one more time
to get a shot of them together.

Clay was clearly visible to me as I peered through the
viewfinder but I was disappointed to see the finished photo. No
Clay. It was an excellent shot of Zach, capturing in detail all of
the fun he was having, but the picture made me sad. I never
realized until now that once Clay moved on, I wouldn’t have
anything left of him but memories. And memories tend to fade.
I had already begun to forget the subtle nuances that made Lee,
Lee.
The only thing that refreshed that memory for me was
meeting Lucas. That was something I would never find again
with anyone else. Sadly, I put my phone back in my bag and did
my best to recapture the lighthearted fun they were still having
without me.
Even eating the best burritos this side of the
border at Cozumel wasn’t going to be enough to completely
erase my funk.

My
mood improved
significantly
once
we
got
to
Pendleton, though.
As we walked across the campus, it all
started to feel real for me. In a few short months, Zach and I
would be out on our own together and far away from Misty and
her brood. Even though I wouldn’t actually be attending
classes
until the spring semester, I was
just as
excited to
explore as he was.
He marveled at the grandeur of Sullivan
Hall, the
ginormous
science
building
where he would be
spending 99% of his collegiate time. I practically drooled when
I saw how big
the library
was.
Hello, Lena C.
Fenimore
Memorial Library, meet your new best friend.

We strolled around campus for several hours, talking
about how different it was from high school. Unlike the halls at
CGHS, there didn’t seem to be cliques of people walking around
together.
Even
the sorority
girls—presumably
the college
equivalent of cheerleaders—were all traveling alone. Fashion
and appearance didn’t seem to be anywhere near as important
here either. I saw several very pretty girls hustling to class in
yoga pants and no makeup. Even though it was probably quite
obvious that we were still high-schoolers, no one seemed to
care. I was going to love it here.

The day got even more exciting when we ventured
slightly off campus to look at some of our housing options.
Since there was no way on earth that I was going to leave Coco
in Charlotte’s Grove, I had already narrowed our choices down
to any places that would be available in the fall that allowed
pets.

The first place we looked at was a complete dump. It
seemed more werewolf friendly than pet friendly. The exterior
was in serious need of a paint job—the gray, weathered wood a
sharp contrast to the other well-manicured buildings on that
street.
We decided that it was a definite no without even
glimpsing the inside. I was weird but not weird enough to want
to live in the Munsters’ gloomy abode. Not yet anyway.

After that first potential dwelling misfire, every other
building was so nice that we were hard pressed to make a final
decision. Until we came to the last place on my list.

Liberty Towers wasn’t really all that much of a tower—
three floors total—yet the good vibe I was getting from it made
the misnomer easy to ignore.
It was the exact opposite of the
first place we looked at.
A well-manicured lawn and clean
exterior gave it a homey appeal. The building manager even
greeted us as we entered the front door.
If the apartments
themselves were half as clean and inviting, we had a winner
here. It would be fitting for our first venture out into the world
as adults to be spent in a placed named Liberty.

As we toured the units that would become available in
the fall, I noticed that Zach didn’t seem as sure of the place as I
did.
What could he possibly
not love about an
efficiency
apartment with as much closet space as this one had? When
we were left alone to discuss whether or not we wanted to
commit to signing a lease, Zach immediately blurted out his
concerns.

“I love this place,” he said with a frown, “But if you feel
any sort of paranormal vibe here, you better say so now.”

Happily, I reported back to him, “Nope—nothing.
I
don’t see, hear, or sense anything out of the ordinary here.” I
jokingly quoted a line from the movie
Poltergeist
in that same
tiny little voice the actress used. “This house is clean.”

Clay shook his head and laughed at my creative “no
ghost” declaration but disagreed based on the fact that he—a
ghost—was taking the walkthrough with us.
I almost told him
that he should know by now that he didn’t count but I caught
myself just in time. It was getting so hard to remember that he
wasn’t real. Well, he
was
real—just not to anyone but me.

Zach exhaled a breath of relief and smiled. “I don’t
know about you, sweetie, but I think this place is perfect! It will
be just big enough for all of our stuff—unless you decide to go
on another shoe shopping spree, that is.”

Insert involuntary eye roll here. I didn’t own
that
many
shoes, did I?
I visualized my closet and began to count each
pair in my head. My shoes were arranged by color which made
my task easier but by the time I got to the brown ones, I
realized something. He was right—I had way too many pairs of
shoes.
Not that that fact would stop me from buying more or
anything. Admitting my problem was the only half of the battle
I was
willing to address.
I was
a proud shoe addict and
unembarrassed by my addiction.
Zach, on the other hand, had
a hobby he wasn’t willing to talk about. So I was forced to make
him do it.

“Yeah, well, your drum set is going to take up a lot of
room too, you know. At least I can store my shoes under the
bed if I run out of closet space.”

I had no intention of starting a fight and no idea that the
mere mention of his drum set would cause him to flare up in
anger. But that’s exactly what happened. His eyes narrowed
and he balled his hands into fists instantly.

“I’m not hauling those stupid things all the way to Ohio
so that I can stare at them as they collect dust. I’ve done
enough of that over the last year and a half, thank you very
much. They’re staying in Charlotte’s Grove until I can find
someone who will give me a decent amount of money for
them.”

I knew him well enough to know that he didn’t really
mean what he was saying.
Anger was only a mask for some
sort of unbearable hurt that he wasn’t sharing with me. It all
had to have something to do with the arguments he’d been
having with his dad. Until now, I’d avoided trying to have an in
depth discussion with him about what was going on beneath
the surface in the hopes that they could work it out somehow.
But the time had come for me to get involved and try to help fix
a situation that I at least felt partially responsible for. If I hadn’t
kissed Lucas on stage that night, Zach wouldn’t have wrecked
his car. That wreck set off a chain of events in the Mason house
that needed to come to an end before we left for college.

The building manager returned before I could broach
the subject so I chose to keep my mouth shut until we were
alone in the car on the way home. Well, almost alone. Having
Clay around 24/7 was starting to get awkward in so many
different ways. I didn’t want to have what should have been
private conversations with Zach while my spectral BFF was
lingering in the background, but for now, I had no other choice.

We told the man that we wanted the apartment and he
quickly produced a lease for us to sign. It was incredibly weird
for me to look at that piece of paper now bearing both of our
signatures and stating that the place was officially ours as of
August 20. Where did my childhood go?
It seemed like only
yesterday that I was crying over a beheaded Barbie doll, yet
today, I was signing the lease for my first apartment.
Did
everyone else my age feel this way or was it just me? It felt like
I went straight from fourteen to forty practically overnight.

BOOK: Spirits of Spring (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 4)
8.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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