Crossing Over (6 page)

I could just kill him. Except he was dead already.

Our next stop was supposed to be the Biodome. It was a short bus ride (or rather, motor coach journey according to Tim and
Sid) from Mont Royal, so I did not have to address the problem that two ghosts had now taken up residence in the seats across
the aisle from my soul mate, who had safely, if not dryly, made his way to the bus.

“Look,” Jac was saying, waving the display screen of her digital camera around in front of me. “Look! Are you looking?”

“I can’t look if you keep moving it around,
Jac,” I responded, shifting in my seat. Next time Jac really ought to give me
the window seat. Ben had a window seat. At least then I would have the same view he had.

“Give it,” I commanded, taking the camera from her and examining the image on the screen.

It was actually a really nice picture of both of us. Ben’s eyes do this amazing thing when he smiles—it’s like some kind of
light is projecting out of them. If that wasn’t enough, his dark eyebrows angled slightly down on the outside, making him
look very compassionate, like he was ready to listen to all your problems.

He wore his black hair in a short brush cut, which had remained unaffected by the stiff breeze up at Chateau Mont-Royal. His
olive green windbreaker was zipped up most of the way, giving him a sweetly sporty look
and complementing his almond complexion.
I could have stared at his picture for a very long time. If the appropriate technology existed, I’d have had the photo tattooed
on the inside of both my eyelids.

I have to say I didn’t look so bad myself. Jac had snapped the picture just as Ben’s shoulder had brushed mine, and there
was a happy glow on my face. My smile looked real, probably because it was. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but I thought
we looked really nice together. He wasn’t too tall—only about three inches taller than me. Even the deep purple of my thick
fleece seemed to go nicely, without being matchy-matchy, with Ben’s jacket.

The whole picture was so glorious I could almost, but not quite, ignore the small sphere of light that appeared slightly behind
and over our heads. Most people would dismiss it
as a smudge of dust on the lens, perhaps lit by a stray ray of sunlight.
But I knew better. The round light object was a spirit orb—the manifestation on film of a ghost.

Britches, I presumed.

“So you have to go show it to him!” Jac said, nudging me enthusiastically.

“I so do not!” I replied, in my best I-mean-it voice. “That would be really lame, Jac.”

“You’re right,” she said. “I’ll just send it to his phone.”

She got up on her knees and leaned over the back of the seat.

“Ben. Hey, Ben!” she called to him where he sat in his usual seat, three rows back, as I repeatedly hissed the word
no
. “What’s your cell number? I want to send this picture to your phone.”

I heard Ben’s voice, and numbers.
Why why why?
I thought. It seemed like Jac could
never leave anything that related to Ben Greenblott and me alone.

But giving it a little more thought, it
was
a good picture. Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to let Ben see that we sort of looked cute together. I let the
outraged expression stay on my face, but inwardly I was a little happy. Very a little happy.

“Sent it,” Jac said, plopping down next to me. “And now we have his number.”

“
You
have his number,” I said. Jac reached into my fleece pocket and pulled my phone out.

“Stop,” I said quietly and unconvincingly. She held her phone next to mine and pushed some buttons.

“Now you have his number, too,” she said with satisfaction.

I put my head on her shoulder.

“Oh, Jac,” I said. “After all this, if it turns
out he doesn’t like me I’m going to lose my mind.”

“He likes you,” Jac said. “I can feel it. You saw how he was smiling in that picture.”

True.

“But if he doesn’t,” I pressed. “Or worse, if he ends up liking someone else, I’ll die.”

“Then you can haunt him,” she said cheerfully.

“Helpful,” I responded.

A commotion, comprised entirely of female voices, erupted in the rear of the bus.

“What’s going on?” Jac asked. “Can you see? Is the bathroom overflowing?”

Jac’s suspicion of the on-bus facilities was obviously going to be an ongoing theme of our trip.

I stuck my head around my seat and peered down the aisle.

Shoshanna Longbarrow was standing at
the very back of the bus, flanked by Stacy and Shelby, who were trying to stand up in
their seats like a couple of royal guards. Phil was snapping photographs of them on his cell phone, while two of the Random
Boys tossed an inflatable ball back and forth over his head. Shoshanna had a scowl on her face that said very clearly that
some unfortunate soul had displeased her. Intrigued, I leaned farther into the aisle and strained to hear what was going on.
Suddenly, a figure leaned out and blocked my view, waving to get my attention. It was Britches.

“
Hochelaga
?”

I shook my head and gestured at him to go away. After a moment, he withdrew into his seat.

“But I don’t see why,” I heard a familiar voice whine.

“Because. I. Said. So. Brook, I don’t know what is
up
with you recently, but you are really getting on my nerves,” Shoshanna declared.

Now I could see Brooklyn. From the way her enormous purse was partially wedged behind Shelby’s purse I guessed there was some
sort of seating dispute going on. It might sound silly, but when you’re a Satellite Girl, who sits where is of crucial importance.
Periodically emotional violence erupted as people angled for a better position in the pecking order. It was like watching
a documentary on Animal Planet about the only watering hole in the desert.

“But Shelby was—”

Shoshanna raised one hand, traffic cop–style.

“Just move,” she said. Then without another word she sat down in her back-row seat, removed Lacy Fowler’s iPod from Lacy’s
own hand, stuck in the earbuds, and began
pumping her foot to a fast beat. Brooklyn hesitated, then grabbed her bag from Shelby’s
seat and turned around. Our eyes locked.

And I shouldn’t have done it; I know I shouldn’t have done it.

But I smiled, and not in the kind of way that’s meant to be nice.

The Biodome loomed in front of us like a spaceship. Tim the Motor Coach Operator pulled obligingly close to the front entrance,
and we scurried into the building through the driving rain. The structure had been built less than twenty years ago, and the
exhibits were all centered around animals. So, there was a very good chance this portion of our trip would be ghost free.
Plus, I was a sucker for anything having to do with a rainforest—and in the Biodome they had recreated one and imported the
appropriate animals.

Sid had produced his clipboard at the ticket counter, and various forms and bits of paper were being exchanged. Mrs. Redd
stood nearby nodding as if her life depended on it. It was then that I noticed we were missing some key people. I pushed my
way through the students and tapped Mrs. Redd on the elbow.

“
Oui, Katuh
?” she said, Frenchifying my name by adding a syllable to the end.

“Um, Madame Rouge, my mother… the two parent chaperones, my mom and Mrs. Gray. They’re not here.”

“
Non
,” she said. “
Elles ne sont pas nécessaires ici parce que
—”

“Could we maybe do this part in English?” I asked, adding a bright smile because grown-ups often like that sort of thing.

“Ah. We are here to speak French, Kat. But in any case, we’re giving them a bit of a
break while we’re at the Biodome. Sid
and I will be with you at all times, of course, but this is a completely enclosed facility. None of you can accidentally wander
off or get lost, so your
mère
and
la mère de Jac
have gone for a coffee.”

“Gone for a coffee?” I asked. “Like, a coffee in the same place? Together?”

“
Oui, ensemble
,” she declared. When I stared blankly, she added, “Yes, together.”

“I… well. Okay. Thank you.”

I walked back to Jac, taking a stealth note of Ben’s position as I went. He had obtained a map of the Biodome and was studying
it intently.

“Jac, something weird is going on,” I said.

“Yeah, why isn’t he over here with us?” Jac asked, a little too loudly. She was wearing a strawberry-red fleece that was absolutely
enormous on her and somehow complemented her floppy red hair. I took a moment to remind myself of her adorableness before
shushing her.

“Not so loud, jeez,” I said. “I’m not talking about Be… about that. It’s our moms. Apparently, they went for coffee together.”

Jac looked weirded out.

“Together? As in with each other?”

“I know, right? What can they possibly have to talk about?”

“Nothing,” Jac said quickly. “It’s stupid. Forget it.”

Forget what? Jac was acting very weird. Then again, she often acted weird.

I started to ask, but was interrupted by Sid.

“Okay, guys, so we’re gonna go in. I know you’ve all done your reading so you know that there are four complete ecosystems
recreated
right here in the Biodome. We’re gonna start in the rainforest.

“There’s only one way to go, from one exhibit to the next, and once you’ve left one you can’t go back in. So take your time,
drink it all in, and we’ll meet up at the exit of the last exhibit by the gift shop in two hours. And no flashes on the cameras,
please, because they aren’t so good for the animals.”

Our little herd began moving forward. Mikuru and Indira were chattering excitedly with Yoshi close behind them, scanning the
rest of the crowd like a Secret Service agent. The Random Boys were imitating some sort of primate, or maybe they always behaved
that way in museums. Who knew? Phil was recording everything on a tiny video recorder. Ben, still holding the map, was waiting
to the side for a break in the crowd.

“Kat Roberts, it’s time,” Jac said.

“Whuh?”

“Are you going to let Ben Greenblott walk all by himself? It’s ridiculous. You’re dying to hang out with him. So, do something.
Go and ask him to walk with us. It’s just the Biodome; it isn’t… brain surgery.”

I took a deep breath and looked Jac in the eye.

“I can’t,” I told her.

“You can,” Jac said. “Look at Brooklyn.”

I did. She was applying a heavy coat of lip gloss and casting pointed looks in Ben’s direction.

“She looks like she’s getting ready to go talk to him,” Jac said.

Now, there was no way Jac could know what Brooklyn meant to do. But truth be told, it did seem possible.

“Do you want that to happen?” Jac
pressed. “Ben’s so nice, if Brooklyn attaches herself to him he might not be rude enough
to tell her to get lost.”

A terrifying thought.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I said.

“Good,” Jac said. “Let’s have a code word in case you want me to leave you two alone.”

“We don’t need a code—”

“Glockenspiel,” Jac said. “If you want me to buzz off, say
glockenspiel
.”

We did not need a code word. Of that I was sure. Not today, anyway. But since the chances of my ever figuring out how to use
the word
glockenspiel
in a sentence were slim to none, it probably didn’t matter.

“Okay,” I said. “Do I look—”

Jac reached out and untwisted my earring. She grabbed a section of my hair on one side and put it in front of my shoulder.
Then
she reached into her bag, produced a tiny bottle, and gave me a squirt of the same perfume she’d spritzed me with at
the hotel.

“Now,” she said.

It’s good to have the kind of friend who can perform this sort of appearance tune-up without hurting your feelings. I gave
her a smile, and as the line moved forward I veered off in Ben’s direction. He glanced up from the map as I approached, then
did a double take when he saw it was me, which was kind of… well. Gratifying.

“Hey, Ben,” I said.

I’m sorry. I was very nervous. It was all I could come up with.

“Hey, Kat,” he said, and the greeting just sounded so much cooler coming out of his mouth. “Are you psyched? I know it sounds
nuts, but I’ve wanted to visit a rainforest all my life.”

I stared at him for a second, truly surprised.

“Me too,” I said. “But, actually, seriously me too. I mean… I…”

I was out of words. And in spite of the fact that I had not even approached the word
glockenspiel
, Jac was nowhere to be seen.

“I guess this is as close as we’re going to get,” he told me.

What?

What?

I must have been staring with my mouth hanging open.

“To a rainforest,” Ben said. “For the time being. I guess this is as close as we’re going to get to a real rainforest.”

I am the stupidest person in the world, sometimes. This was one of those occasions.

“Exactly what I was going to say,” I lied.

The line had been moving during my
display of stupidity, and we found ourselves at the threshold of the rainforest. The entrance
was a small tunnel hung with long strips of rubber and plastic that you had to brush through. It was like going through a
car wash. Without the car.

When we emerged on the other side, I came to a full stop, overwhelmed.

The energy was delicious. The air was thick and warm and moist. It smelled of earth and leaves and water. There were unfamiliar
sounds all around—bird calls and hoots and rushing water. It was as if we were on another planet entirely. I felt more than
saw Jac at my elbow, which meant that she was either coming to my rescue or bored with leaving me alone with Ben.

“My hair is going to frizz,” she said.

“Jac, it’s like… it’s like paradise!” I exclaimed.

“If you say so, Voodoo Mama,” Jac said. “Seems to me there could be all kinds of aggressive rainforest-type insects in here.
Based on what I’ve seen in the movies, they’re probably supersized. I need a bug detector. Do you think they sell them in
the gift shop?”