Adventures In Murder Chasing (Funeral Crashing #3) (27 page)

"You could have said that out there," I said.

Ariel frowned. "A you're welcome would be nice."

"You're welcome," I said. "Although, I did it more for Troy, you know, than you."

"You're making this hard," Ariel said.

"What?" I asked.

Ariel sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" I asked. "For what?"

"For saying what I did the other day at the coffee shop," Ariel said.

Had the world turned upside down? Was it ending? "Okay."

"That's all," Ariel said.

We stared at each other in awkward silence. I didn't know what to say. Ariel didn't say anything either. Then Ariel left the bathroom.

Alrighty then. I walked out of the bathroom a second later. Could that have possibly been a truce? Maybe Ariel had drunk one too many peanut butter banana milkshakes and was feeling all fuzzy inside. I guess I kind of was too because I was smiling even though nothing with Ariel was exactly resolved or anything. Maybe I needed to cut myself off. I hoped nicer Ariel would stick around for twenty-four hours. Who knew, though. It could all change at school on Monday.

Half an hour later we were all in the backroom. It was Open Mic Night at Wired on Sunday nights. Ethan was in the line-up. I was pretty excited for him. He only got to sing three songs, but it was still a big deal. This was the first time he was singing in front of an audience. I felt nervous for him and excited all at the same time.

Of course Ethan did great on the first two songs, which were cover versions of popular songs. He had a great voice. I knew that right now it was just a hobby, but I really thought he should pursue his music. He had talent.

"And my last song goes out to Kait," Ethan said, strumming his guitar.

I was standing in the front row with another peanut butter banana milkshake. I couldn't help myself. I heard Suzie sigh with an aw next to me. I looked back at Ariel, who was standing in the back with Troy, and she didn't even make one lame comment. I beamed. My boyfriend was awesome. Life was awesome.

Ethan played an original song. This one was a ballad. I listened to the words. It was a love song about a guy who liked this girl who solved murder mysteries and crashed funerals. I wanted to cry it was so good. I'd have to get the words from him later. The best thing was, it was about me. I couldn't take my eyes off of Ethan as he sang the words. I started shaking.

Ethan's eyes met mine and stayed there as he sang the final refrain of the song, "Funeral Crashing Girl, you rock my world. Funeral Crashing Girl, who knew you would."

He finished it and there was thunderous applause. I knew he was good. I loved the song. I absolutely loved it. I loved him. I did. I really did.

"Thank you," Ethan said and walked off the stage toward me as the next musician walked up.

I ran up to kiss him and Ethan's lips met mine. That was all there was for a moment. It was just Ethan and I intertwined.

I pulled away, "That was the best song I've ever heard."

"I'm glad you liked it," Ethan smiled, looking down at me.

"I loved it," I said, staring into his eyes.

Ethan looked down at me and wrapped his arms around my waist again, "And I love you."

My heart did a backflip. Wow, he actually said it. That was good because I didn't think I could wait too much longer before it came out by accident.

I smiled and kissed Ethan again, longer this time. I didn't even want to stop, but I had to, to say it, "I love you too."

More kissing ensued, lots and lots and lots of it. Yeah, I totally broke my curfew again. I didn't care. I loved Ethan and he loved me!

###

There will be more Funeral Crashing!

Funeral Crashing #4 will be out in 2014!

In the meantime, check out the excerpts from a couple of my other books: Connected and The New Girl Who Found A Dead Body.

Read an excerpt from Milda Harris' YA Paranormal Romance book - available now!

The only thing I remember about my life, is the moment of my death. The doctors were hovering above me. I saw their faces, unfamiliar faces, twisted with the task at hand – saving me. They didn’t know me, but it was their job to help me. There was no concern in their eyes, just logistics. Could I be saved? I saw them toiling over me, through the waves of pain, shooting through my body. I hurt everywhere. I couldn’t even figure out the source of my pain. My chest? My head? The shooting pains through my arms and legs? It hurt so much.

I saw a nurse assisting. There was worry in her eyes. She hadn’t steeled herself against concern for her patients, like the doctors had. I didn’t look good. I could tell she didn’t think I was going to make it.

“Drew? Drew? Can you hear me Drew?” I heard someone saying, over and over again.

There was a lot of blood. It must have been mine. The doctors were covered in it. What had happened to me? Why couldn’t I remember? I didn’t want to die. I was too young. I hadn’t done anything yet. I hadn’t made my mark. I felt regret.

Still, I wasn’t scared. Perhaps I should have been, but I wasn’t. Death started to seem right. My life as I had known it was slipping away. It was time for my life to change. I needed to embrace death. I felt calm. Then the pain stopped. Relief swept through me as the pain left my body. I was at peace. Then I was above myself and not in my body anymore. I stared at the doctors working on me. That gangly boy with the blood matted brown hair lying on the table was me and yet it wasn’t me anymore. The doctors were still trying desperately to keep me alive. They weren’t going to be able to, but the process of saving my life didn’t seem so important to me anymore. They were frantic and it didn’t matter.

It was time. I decided to leave the room and my body behind. As I left, I heard a buzzing sound. The alarms on the medical machines went suddenly haywire. The doctors and nurses moved faster. I kept walking. This was the moment I died and left the living world behind. It all seemed very logical and normal at the time to walk away from my life. My memories of that living world were gone. I was moving on.

I went out into the hallway. It was a typical hospital corridor. The walls were white and doctors and nurses were all rushing around in their uniforms and bright white Jackson Community Hospital nameplates trying to save other people. There were regular people in the hallway too, hospital visitors waiting to hear about friends and family members, but I didn’t really pay attention to them. I had somewhere to go.

I passed a waiting room and saw a group of people huddled together crying. They seemed almost familiar. My family? Friends? A girlfriend? I felt like they could be any or all of those things and yet they were now like strangers to me. I’m sure I had loved them. I’m sure they had been important to me. I would have stopped to see and explore who was there, but I needed to keep walking. It was a forceful pull, more than a choice. I could not linger and watch them. I needed to go. It was as if I was being pulled away from my old life by a force that I couldn’t see. I had no urge to resist. I only felt peace and serenity and the pull.

Nobody noticed me as I walked down the hallway. I don’t even know if walked is the right word, maybe floated is better. I felt lighter than air and I don’t think I touched the ground as I walked, even though I felt my legs move.

Finally, I came to a wall and stopped. I knew I was supposed to be there, something almost instinctive had led me to this exact spot. I carefully put my hands on the surface of the wall. Amazed, I watched my hands pass through it into an unseen place. After a moment’s hesitation and a twinge of fear, I walked right into the wall and through it. It was what I was supposed to do. The force was pulling me forward.

The place beyond the wall is difficult to describe. Words don’t seem to have enough meaning, but I’ll try anyway. It was dark there. I couldn’t see even an inch in front of me. I seemed to be alone, yet I sensed that others were there with me in the darkness. Occasionally, there were distant flashes of light, that disappeared as quickly as they appeared. They were almost like shooting stars flying across the night sky.

I sensed I was moving, but I didn’t seem to be going anywhere at all. There was no sound, no smell. Yet, it was tranquil. I wasn’t scared. I felt comforted. For a few seconds, I actually found myself at peace. It was a pure sort of peace with no worries or fears or hurting. I felt overwhelming freedom and safety. I was free, truly free, for the first time in my life. It was amazing in its perfection. Was this heaven? A waiting place that would take me to heaven? I couldn’t imagine feeling anything more wonderous and perfect than I felt at that moment. There were infinite amazing posibilities in this wonderous serene place.

And, then that perfection was gone, shattered by a shrill cry from behind me, where I thought the wall I had just passed through had been. I couldn’t stay in this place anymore. I needed to follow the sound of the cry. Whatever caused it seemed to be calling out to me. It was a calling that struck me as so innate that I couldn’t help but follow it. I was drawn to it despite my overwhelming want to stay in the wonderous world I had only been in for moments, but wanted to stay in forever. Suddenly nothing mattered more than that cry. So, without a moment’s hesitation, I turned toward the crying, and passed through another wall.

I found myself in the same hospital, only it looked a little bit different. I know it was the same hospital because the nurses I saw rushing around all wore the same Jackson Community Hospital nameplates. It was different, though, because this place had light blue and pink walls and when I passed the nurses’ station, as I moved toward the increasingly ear-shattering wail, I saw a smiling woman in a hospital gown holding a baby and showing it off to some of the nurses. They were all smiling and talking. They didn’t seem to be bothered by the piercing scream and nobody seemed to notice my presence. Then the bawling stopped, and with the silence, I felt a growing sense of urgency to find its source. It was very important that I hurry. Timing was imperative. I looked around, seeing a series of doorways that I could pass through. I felt suddenly unsure. Which door? I felt a pull and immediately followed it, entering the room where I thought I would find the origin of the wailing.

As I stepped inside, I found myself in a birthing room. A doctor and a few nurses surrounded a blonde woman, who looked exhausted. A man, most likely her husband, stood by her bed holding her hand.

“One more push,” The doctor said.

The woman pushed, sweat pouring down her face. A baby was being born. I could see the head of the baby, followed by the body, as the doctor caught it in his arms. It was amazing. The baby started wailing as the doctor moved to tend to the child. Was the baby the source of the urgent cry I had heard? I couldn’t look away from the child. I followed the doctor as he looked the baby over. I quickly saw it was a girl. She was perfect. Her blue eyes seemed to stare into mine and she stopped crying. I couldn’t stop looking at her, from her porcelain skin to her petite nose to her perfect tiny fingers and toes, to the tuft of wet blonde hair on the top of her head. She was mesmerizing.

A moment later, satisfied that the baby was clean and well, the doctor brought the baby over to the woman and the anxious man standing next to her. I followed, drawn to the girl, not wanting to even lose sight of her.

The doctor smiled at the new parents, “Congratulations, you have a beautiful, healthy baby girl.”

The couple smiled at each other, a moment of pure bliss as they met their new daughter. It was bizarre. As the doctor handed the mother her baby and the new parents looked happily and lovingly down at their new daughter, I felt the most profound sense of loss.

Read an excerpt from Milda Harris’ other YA Mystery book - available now!

Chloe sat on her luggage, watching every passing car speed by with interest, waiting for the one that was supposed to pick her up. They all seemed to weave in and out of the unending airport traffic with grace. Some even managed to stop and pick up loved ones, but her ride hadn’t arrived yet. Chloe hoped that he’d be able to find her in the chaos that seemed to be LAX airport.

Chloe wondered if she’d recognize him. She hadn’t seen Jake since the fifth grade, when he and his parents had moved from Illinois to California. Chloe’s mother and Jake’s mother had been best friends since grade school. Then they grew up and had children, only a few months apart. Thus, Chloe and Jake had been best friends as kids, always thrown into play dates when their mothers wanted to visit with each other. Then after the fifth grade, Jake and his family moved to California. Chloe and Jake had been best friends back then, but the distance and the excitement of growing up quickly made their friendship grow apart and turned it instead, into a fond childhood memory.

Chloe hadn’t seen Jake since, but their mothers had still kept in constant contact. Jake’s father died a couple of years before and Chloe’s mother had gone back to the funeral to console her friend, coming back with stories of California and the now handsome, grown-up Jake. Chloe had been more excited to hear about California. She had already set her mind on going to California to college for film school. She had known that she was destined for California ever since the beginning of her freshman year when a girl in her class started bragging about her brother in California who made movies for a living. It sounded like the perfect life and from that moment on, Chloe had made up her mind to go to California for film school. Her parents were supportive, but money became the big issue. An out of state school would cost money and lots of it and there was no way her family could afford to send her to an out of state college. Chloe spent about half of her junior year of high school sulking with frustration at the thought of being unable to follow her dreams until her mother had approached her with an idea. She and Jake’s mother had talked about it and with a year’s residency in California with Jake and his mother along with following a few guidelines, Chloe would be able to attend a California state school, as a resident. She was going to have to get a job too, after she got settled in at school, and make sure she fit all the requirements to a letter, but Chloe didn’t think twice about it. She could do it. She agreed. She knew she would miss her friends in Illinois, but this was a chance to follow her dream and she couldn’t pass it up.