Brush With Death (3 page)

I
was glad to
escape the cloying truck interior.  I hadn’t realized how strong the wet dog
smell had become until I sucked in a breath of exhaust-tinged air.  Cal must be
really worried about something. 

Maybe he had a test today?  We all had final exams next
week, our last scholarly obligation before graduating, but some of the teachers
were squeezing our brains dry with last minute tests and quizzes. 
Sadists
.

I squeezed Cal’s hand and bumped hips.  That brought a grin
to his lips and the wet dog smell diminished. 

Cal is much better at keeping his wolf under wraps than just
a few months ago.  He’s gained an amazing amount of control over his wolf
spirit since that horrible night last fall.  I still shudder when I remember
just how close he came to having his secret discovered because of my actions. 
I know that it wasn't my fault.  My brain accepts that, but my heart rebels.

It had all happened at the homecoming dance, a night that should
have been a fun escape from smelly ghosts and looming Samhain worries.  Without
yet knowing my power to call Cal's wolf through dance, I strode out onto the
dance floor and stomped out some killer moves.  They were nearly killer in a
very bad way.  Calling Cal's wolf caused him to transform—risking potential
violence, exposing his secret, and jeopardizing the pack’s safety.

It was the worst night of my life.  Considering how
terrifying Samhain was, that's saying a lot.  With Emma’s help, we managed to
sneak Cal out of the school dance, into her car, and to the cabin behind Cal’s
house.  Unfortunately, shapeshifting werewolves don’t travel well inside moving
vehicles.  Cal broke his arm, but it could have been much worse.  We were
lucky.

After that night, Simon began training Cal to control his
wolf and helped me to understand my connection with the dead, with Cal’s wolf
spirit, and with my spirit guide.  None of us wanted another night like the
homecoming dance.  But controlling a strong wolf spirit isn’t easy, and Cal has
more stress than most guys his age.  As alpha he has responsibilities to his
pack, something I know he worries about.  He also, like me, had to survive
these last weeks of high school.  It’s amazing he doesn’t turn furry, like,
every five minutes.

Cal’s newfound control and easy smile were both monumental. 
Too bad I couldn’t celebrate by kissing those luscious grinning lips.

Instead, I turned my attention to the social battlefield. 
It wouldn’t pay to be distracted when threats like the J-team could be lurking
inside any one of the cars parked between us and the school entrance.  Walking
across the parking lot set my teeth on edge.  The jingling of my multi-buckled
boots, chain bracelets, and protection charms attracted attention.  I met each
stare with a brittle smile.  Thank the gods I don’t have to do this much
longer.

Usually, I can skip across the pavement like I have springs
in the soles of my stompy boots and helium balloons attached to my black
beribboned hair.  But now there were chinks in my emotional armor, and I had no
idea how to repair the fissures. 

My heart, always so strong in the past, was like the fishnet
stockings that clung to my legs—torn, shredded, and full of gaping holes.

T
ires squealed
as I swung my car into the allotted parking spot.  Only a few stragglers
remained outside the school doors.  A familiar shaggy head towered over a
petite girl dressed in black. 

Great.  Just freaking awesome.  If I wanted to beat the
tardy bell and the potential black mark on my school record, I was going to
have to enter the building alongside Cal and Yuki.  Not my favorite peeps at
the moment.

I grabbed my bag with shaking hands, took a deep breath, and
stepped out of the car.  No way was I letting the whole ex-BFF awkwardness mess
up my chances for college.  Plus, how bad could it be?

I’ve faced down corporate jerks and their security teams
multiple times while protesting for animal rights.  I never let those monsters
get under my skin, so why worry about facing Yuki?

“Becaussse ssshe’s your bessst friend,”
a little
voice in my head answered.  It sounded suspiciously like a snake.

Snakes started being able to talk to me a few months ago. 
It still freaks me out.  I like snakes and all, but having them speak directly
into my brain was so not normal.  At first, it had helped me to understand how
Yuki felt about sensing ghosts and getting messages from her dung beetle spirit
guide—not that it helped me understand her current behavior.

I did wish she’d get over herself and start talking to me
again, if only so I could ask if she too had developed a habit of giving her
inner self a voice like her spirit guide.  With Yuki out of the picture, and
Cal keeping his distance, Simon was the only person left who I could talk to
about all of this creepy supernatural stuff. 

I knew that Simon would understand, he’s been aware of the
voice of his wolf spirit since childhood, but I didn’t want to ruin the time we
spent together.  No, my time with Simon was an escape from all of my worries. 
For now, I wanted to keep it that way.

I would just have to get used to the sibilant voice in my
head. 
No problem.  Easssy peasssy.

I strode between cars, keeping my head down and moving as
fast as I could without actually running.  Maybe Yuki and Cal wouldn’t even
notice me if I didn’t do anything to attract attention. 

“Hey,” Gordy called.  “Emma!  Cal!  Yuki!  Wait up!”  Gordy
was crossing the parking lot toward us with Katie on his arm.  They were both
smiling and Katie waved at us as Gordy walked toward me and nodded at Cal. 
“Hey, man, you guys hear the tardy bell?”

“Please say it hasn’t rung yet,” Katie said.  “I really
don’t want to be grounded for graduation.  I’d miss Gordy’s party.”

Katie’s red hair was sticking out in every direction and her
cheeks were flushed.  Someone had been busy with some extracurricular kissing
this morning.  I tried to hide the grin that twitched at the corner of my
mouth. 

Katie and Gordy were totally cute together.  I was really
happy that they were dating, but running into them when Calvin and Yuki were
standing there was beyond uncomfortable.  Not so long ago we were all a tightly
knit group of friends.  Too bad someone had ripped apart the stitches that held
us together, unraveling the cozy blanket of our friendship and leaving just
enough strands to hang ourselves with.

I ran a finger beneath my scarf, trying to swallow.  I was
not going to get all weepy now.  I turned to Gordy so I wouldn’t have to see
Yuki standing at Katie’s shoulder.

“You’re having a graduation party?” I asked.

“It’s more of a beach party,” he said, chewing on the hair
that came to a point at his chin.  “My uncle has a place up the coast, right on
the beach.  He said we can use the place the entire weekend of graduation. 
You’re all invited.  You’ll come, right?”

“Um, sure,” I said. 

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Gordster,” Yuki said.  She
did one of those indecipherable handshakes with Gordy that involved fists,
pinky fingers, and chest pounding.  It reminded me of gorilla mating behavior.

“Of course we’ll come,” Calvin said.  “Thanks man.  You need
us to bring anything?”

“No way,” Katie said.  “I’m making vegan, veggie, and
meat-lovers snacks—something for everyone.  Just bring yourself.”

“And a surfboard,” Gordy said.  “You surf, right Cal?”

“I’m more of a hiking guy myself, but I’ve been known to hit
the waves,” he said.  “It’s been years though.”

I tried to picture a wolf on a surfboard, and failed.

“I’m sure my uncle has a board you can use,” Gory said. 
“He’s about your size.”

“Cool,” Calvin said.  “Um, Yuki?”

After Yuki’s enthusiastic handshake with Gordy, she’d
stepped back to stare at me.  She looked like an angry god, displeased by her
people.  Her frown was deep enough to trap entire villages.

“Is she bringing someone?” Yuki asked.

Yes, I was the “she” and Yuki was pointing straight at me.

“Oh, right,” Gordy said, looking from me to Yuki and back. 
“Of course you can bring a date if you want…”

“Never mind,” I said.  We were already through the school
doors, so I turned my back and headed down the hall.

That went well,
my sarcastic side snarked.  Not that
I expected it to go any better.  But why did my fingers feel bruised?  Looking
down, I found my hands wrapped around the straps of my bag, twisting like the
pale fabric was Yuki’s neck. 

I released the straps, smoothed out the creases, and walked
to class.

I
sat in class,
fidgeting with the edge of my fingerless glove.  The fabric was frayed, just
like my nerves.

I wondered if I had nearly sabotaged Gordy’s party in an
effort to avoid talking about my post-graduation plans.  I just knew that
everyone was going to sit around a bonfire on the beach, get all sappy, and
talk about how they’d miss everyone when they were gone.

Everyone was leaving me.

Dude, snap out of it!  I was turning into a totally
depressed jerk. 

It didn’t help that Emma might be there, snuggling up with
Simon, while I was having my heart ripped out.  I felt raw, like my skin had
been rubbed off with sandpaper. 

And I smelled pickles.

The golden glow of Jackson Green, a ghost who I had helped
last October, hovered at my shoulder.  He should have been in Heaven, or
wherever spirits go when they find peace.  I had helped him find his way into
the light, but Jackson kept coming back. 

The first time Jackson returned to me was on Samhain.  He
had been one of the ghosts who tried to protect me from The Grays.  I knew it
was him; I’d recognize that vinegar soaked smell impression anywhere.

But it wasn’t Samhain today.  My eyes strayed to the wall
calendar beside the chalkboard, with its days crossed off in bold sharpie and
graduation day circled in red, turned to the month of June.  No, it was
definitely not Samhain, which was at the very end of October.  The veil between
worlds should have kept the man’s spirit where he belonged, but try telling
that to Jackson.

My ghost pal had started showing up lately, whenever I was
stressed.  He seemed in tune with my emotions.  Was I somehow calling him to
me?  I’d have to ask my spirit guide about that.  It didn’t seem right, calling
a ghost to me and disturbing his rest just because I was feeling grumpy.

I scribbled a reminder in the margin of my notebook;
contact
spirit guide about Mr. Pickle Pants.
  If anyone other than my closest
friends read that, they’d think it was some obscure anime reference. 
Nope,
just my bizarre life.

Too bad hovering ghosts can’t speak.  I could use some good
advice right now.  The fact that I’d be willing to listen to the opinions of a dead
guy who was murdered by his own wife showed how desperate I was. 

He may not be able to speak, but Jackson and I could
communicate.  With my newly emerging ability to see glowing shapes of the dead,
Jackson and I had developed a new means of communication.  In the past, I’d
create a makeshift Ouija board with the words YES, NO, and MAYBE and hope that
the strength of the smell impression indicated which word a ghost was answering
with.  It could be accurate, but being overwhelmed by smelly ghosts was
exhausting and left me with a killer headache. 

Recently, I’d asked Jackson to try shining brighter to
indicate his answer.  Amazingly this new approach worked, and didn’t leave me a
moaning, drooling mess.  But using my ghostly guardian as an impromptu magic
eight ball seemed all shades of wrong. 

I’d just have to figure out my problems on my own.

I jumped as the bell rang out.  I took a deep, steadying
breath and headed for the door.  Once in the hallway, I braced myself for the
inevitable vampire bats that swarmed inside my stomach. 

“Only two weeks left,” I muttered.  “You can do this.”

Getting to my next class meant walking past a door that
filled me with dread.  The memory of the things that happened behind that door
still made my hands shake and my knees feel weak.  The hallway seemed to
shrink, closing in on me as I neared the source of my fear. 

The supply closet loomed like a monster from a nightmare,
growing larger as the hallway narrowed and the rest of the school fell away
into a darkness so black even the humming overhead lights couldn’t penetrate. 
The humming became a buzz as the roaring in my ears warned of a full-blown panic
attack. 

A little voice in my head whispered hauntingly, but managed
to be heard over the incessant roaring. 
Don’t pass out now, girl.  If you
do, the J-team will get you.
  Oh yeah, those thoughts were so not helping.

I shook my head, took a step closer to the door—and froze.

I knew that I should get a grip.  It was just a small, messy
storage room filled with the typical boxes of school supplies—no sweaty jocks
or insane J-team.  Not today.  But the boxes of chalk and toilet paper still
loomed like specters, silent witnesses to my humiliation and fear. 

Did that room hold some echo of past events?  One thing I’ve
learned from my experience with the paranormal—anything is possible.  If
spirits of the dead can leave behind smell impressions, then why not a feeling
of terror in a place where I had experienced such intense emotion?

At first, when I was abducted I had been scared, but then I
got angry.  Trapped and tormented by narrow-minded jerks, had made me so mad I
thought my blood was boiling.  The cold, emptiness…the utter terror?  That came
later.

Now I stood as if frozen in carbonite.  Unable to run,
blink, or scream.  Han Solo, eat your heart out. 

My body was as traitorous as Lando Calrissian. 

Unlike carbonite freezing, my condition didn’t cause
temporary blindness.  I wish that it did.  I was forced to stare wide-eyed at
the door that led to my darkest, most frightening nightmares.  As with any bowel-churning
nightmare, mine happened to feature evil jocks. 

The room had been filled with members of the football team,
but they were lead by the J-team.  Those two were the ghouls who haunted my
existence, but one of them was pure evil.  Jared Zempter’s threatening pose and
obvious willingness to carry out any order from Jay had been terrifying
enough.  But the specter who tormented my dreams, and that my mind warned still
lurked behind the supply closet door, was Jay Freeman.

Jay’s eyes had gleamed with sadistic pleasure as meaty-hands
Eddy held me down.  Jay had wanted more than just answers.  He had wanted to
play with me, like a cat plays with a mouse.  The look he had given me made my
stomach churn and my skin crawl.  I didn’t want to be the defenseless mouse. 

Jay’s words from that day rang in my ears.  “Yeah, freak,
that’s why we’re here,” he said. “Well, that and a little fun after.”  It was
the “fun after” that had worried me then, and terrified me now.  What if he
came along and decided to finish what he had started?

No, I was not letting that creep ruin my life.  Not
anymore.  I had sworn that day not to give up, and not to show fear.  I
wouldn’t give the J-team the satisfaction while being held captive by the
entire football team, so why start now? 

A flash of heat loosed my frozen muscles and unclenched my
jaw as anger burned through me.  I swallowed the growing lump in my throat,
blinked away tears, and bolted past the supply closet.

Nobody knew just how afraid I still was.  I worked hard to
smile and pretend that I was fine.  But I’m far from okay.  No, I’m light-years
from that place.  Maybe someday I’ll make it there, but for now, I’m flailing
around in limbo. 

How did everything get so out of control?

I need to talk to Cal.  I have been keeping the worst of my
feelings from that day hidden, but that obviously wasn’t helping anyone.  Maybe
talking things out will help me banish my demons, before they swallow me whole.