The Lost Boys (11 page)

I had a great time that day – and I laughed a lot. It almost felt like a date. But it wasn’t, and I kept telling myself we were just good friends hanging out.

And then the week was over, and on Saturday my mom announced I was going to school the next day to get my things settled in my dorm room, with no more delays. And Tristan would stay back for a while to sort out his papers. He still needed to get his ID certified. My mother had made some underground contacts through her job as a lawyer, and managed to get him a fake birth certificate and other documents he needed. She wasn’t happy breaking the law like that, but in her defense, it wasn’t like she could tell everyone she had a ghost boy back from the dead living with her now. They would think she was nuts!

She gave me
The Look
after informing me of my departure for school the next day, and I knew it was no use trying to dissuade her. I sighed heavily and went to my room to start packing. After a while, I heard Tristan calling out my name downstairs. I left my suitcase open on my bed and went to find him. He wasn’t in the living room, so I headed for my mom’s ex-office, now Tristan’s bedroom, and stopped by the door.

At first glance I couldn’t see him anywhere, but then I caught sight of him sitting on his bed, his legs crossed in a relaxed position, looking directly at me. There was something different about him, though. It was hard to explain. He seemed faded, engulfed by his surroundings, like he was a part of the background. My eyes registered his presence and sending that message to my brain, but I could hardly see him. And my brain was starting to poke me, to certify which data was correct. Was he there? Was he not? Which one? Make up your mind already!

I frowned and squinted my eyes, looking straight at him. “Tris? What’s going on? What are you doing?”

He looked a little surprised by my reaction. “You know I’m here? That’s … odd.” He scratched his head. “I’m a little confused now. Maybe … maybe it’s only you.”

“Only me what?” I asked, waiting for him to make any sense.

“Okay. Watch this. I’m going to call your mom here, but when you understand, don’t let her know, okay?” he said.

“Let her know what?” I asked, but he cut me off, calling out for Mom just like he had done to me a few minutes ago. Mom walked by and stopped by the door, looking around the room. Tristan was right in front of her, but she didn’t seem to notice him there.

“Oh, hi, honey.” she greeted me “Do you know where Tristan is? I heard him calling me …”

I turned to look at Tristan, and then back at her. And then back at him again. She couldn’t see him! That’s what was going on! To me he seemed faded, but for her he had faded away. How was that possible?

“Joey, hello! Space to planet Earth! Have you seen Tristan?” my mother asked loudly.

“Uh. No. Yes. Hum … yeah, I already took care of it. He needed help with … the … um …” I looked around in a panic, trying to come up with some lame excuse, but I couldn’t find any. I was still in shock from my discovery. Then I turned to Tristan and watched him pointing to the alarm clock on the desk.

“Alarm clock? Yes! The alarm clock. That’s what it was. The alarm went off! Yeah, and he didn’t know how to turn it off. But it’s all good now, Mom. You can go, don’t worry!” I said, smiling at her in relief.

She looked at me suspiciously, but then just shrugged her shoulders and walked back to her room upstairs.

“Tristan, what the hell?” I whispered to him, worried that my mom might still hear us.

He smiled and relaxed, and I felt him coming back to normal, standing out from the background again.

“See? Weird, right?” he said, gesturing for me to come and sit next to him on the bed.

“What the hell was that?” I asked, sitting down by his side.

“I don’t know. I was getting dressed in here earlier, and I forgot to close the door. Then your mom bustled in. I guess it took me by surprise, I was embarrassed and I reacted by doing … that. She took some papers off her desk, and didn’t even acknowledge me naked inside the room. I thought … well, that it was odd. So I tested it again a couple more times and it worked every time. She never sees me when I’m in this … state. I don’t know what to call it. I don’t even know what it is that I’m doing!” he said excitedly.

“And then you guinea-pigged me too.”

“Well … yeah. But it didn’t work on you, though, so … I don’t get it.”

“Yeah, but it kind of feels weird, when you were doing it. I can see you but you’re kind of faded. Is it an ex-ghost special ability thing?”

“I really don’t know, Joey. I have never been an ex-ghost before, so this is all new territory for me.” He paused and looking thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“Maybe Miss Violet will know,” I pondered.

“Hmm, yeah, about that. I knew you’d say this. But, maybe she doesn’t have to know. Well, at least not right away. We’ll tell her later, okay?”

“Huh. All right, I suppose,” I said, standing up and walking to the door.

That boy sure liked having secrets!

“I’ll go finish packing, then. I still gotta go to school tomorrow, with or without your fading skill there. Let me know if you develop any more ‘special’ abilities any time soon.”

I was really glad his “thing” didn’t work on me. Otherwise I would be constantly on my guard, thinking he was playing tricks on me too!

Sunday started as gloomy and clouded as my mood. I knew I should feel excited about going to my new school, and that Tristan would be joining me soon, on the next weekend, but somehow I couldn’t manage to feel happy about it.

And the crappy day wasn’t helping either. There was a soft annoying rain falling on and off all day, which left everything damp, humid and freezing cold. The sky was filled with gray, ugly clouds and the streets with murky puddles of water.

I stood there at the bus platform, watching the driver stuff my luggage into the bag compartment.

“Are you sure you don’t mind going to your new school by bus all alone, honey?” my mom asked, all worried and guilty. The mechanic was holding her car hostage, apparently, and he would only release it on Tuesday. For a heavy ransom. The solution to my problem: bus transportation.

“It’s fine, Mom. I already told you that like a million times. Don’t worry, I know how to take a bus. It’s not rocket science, you know.”

“I know, I know, honey, but it’s your first day! At your new school! I wanted so much to be there with you!” she said, teary-eyed. Oh, dear. There went the water works.

“Mom, come on! Please, please, don’t start crying here!” I whispered, looking frantically around me. Tristan was chuckling behind her back.

“You laugh all you want now, pal, she’ll do the same with you too, you know?” I warned him. He stopped in mid-chuckle and kept a straight face then.

“Okay, Mom! I gotta go now, the bus is leaving. I’ll see you guys next weekend, right?” I said, hugging my mom.

“Yeah, that damn mechanic better have my car fixed by then, or I’ll give him hell! We’ll be there at the weekend and you can show me your new school, your new room, your room-mates!” She squealed in excitement.

“All right, all right, settle down,” I said, patting her shoulder and turning to Tristan.

He had both hands inside his pockets, his usual stance when he was nervous, as I’d learned to recognize by now. He glanced sideways at my mom. I guess he was embarrassed to say or do something in front of her. The fact that she was looking at us with googly eyes wasn’t helping either.

“Uh … well, have a safe trip to your school, Joe. I’ll see you soon,” he said, extending his hand to me formally.

I took his hand, a little embarrassed myself. “Thanks, Tristan. I’ll see you soon.”

We shared a brief handshake and I blushed at my mom watching us like a hawk. She was grinning like a mad woman, too. Well, that was … awkward. I got on the bus after that and watched through the window while my mom wiped tears from her eyes. She was leaning on Tristan’s arm for support, and he stood still by her side, smiling shyly as I waved goodbye.

I leaned back in my seat, regretting my awkward handshake with Tristan. I wished I had hugged him. Now it was too late for that.

I stared at the road ahead of me. Sagan Boarding School, here I come.

Chapter Eleven

A Light at the End of the Tunnel

I watched the murky road and heavy clouds in the sky for the whole two-hour trip to school. It wasn’t raining any more, but everything still seemed damp and soaking wet. I felt a little queasy inside, my anxiety holding my stomach in a tight grip.

What would this new school be like?

I knew it was a highly regarded school for wealthy people, and I was kind of worried I wouldn’t fit in there, wouldn’t find any friends, either. That was worrying me. A lot.

I hated dealing with high-maintenance, spoiled rich brats! I hoped the school wouldn’t be filled with them. What was I thinking, of course it would! And now it was too late to go back. I’d have to suck it up and endure a whole year of spoiled brats!

I was so engrossed by my grim thoughts that I didn’t notice the bus had stopped. Before I could glance outside, the driver called out my name.

I lifted my hand in confusion as he made a sign for me to follow him. I grabbed my backpack and stepped off the bus with a puzzled face.

There was a huge pothole in the road, with soft red mud gushing out. A big limo had tried to pass through it and got stuck in the mud. The wheels screeched and rolled, but the car remained in the same spot, blocking the road. I turned to look at the bus driver by my side.

“Hey there, miss, “he said, taking another look at the road. “Seems we have ourselves a problem here. I’ve been telling people about this hole in the road for weeks and nobody did anything. Now look at it!” He pointed at the mess of mud ahead of us.

I looked at the limo and then at the bus. “The bus won’t be able to pass,” I stated.

“Sorry, miss.” He nodded an affirmative. “But your school’s just there.” He pointed beyond the limo to the horizon, where I could see the big gray stone walls of Sagan Boarding School looming. It would take only a few minutes to walk there.

“Okay, then. I’ll walk. Can you get my luggage, please, sir?” I asked politely, and the man nodded, relieved that I wasn’t going to hold up the rest of his passengers, and went to fetch my things.

While I was waiting, a tall, blonde, Barbie-looking girl stepped out from the limo. She approached me slowly, head raised high like she owned the damn road. I eyed her suspiciously. She was well groomed with bouncy curls, high heels and perfect posture, dressed to kill in an impeccably tailored haute couture dress and coat.

Definitely a spoiled brat. Definitely filthy rich.

She was carrying an expensive-looking purse over her slim shoulder.

“Are you heading for Sagan as well?” she asked in an imperative tone. No, she didn’t ask. She demanded to know.

“Yes,” I answered plainly. I wondered idly why she wasn’t at school already. Maybe she’d had important shopping to do!

The bus driver returned with my suitcase. I grabbed it and thanked him for his assistance. He walked quickly back to the bus and was soon on his way.

“Are you walking to school?” Barbie Girl asked, surprised.

“Do you see another way of getting there?” I replied, getting a little annoyed. She was momentarily taken aback by my sharpness. I wasn’t always that rude to people I didn’t know, but something about the girl’s tone bugged me.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked again, interest glinting in her eyes.

“No.”

“I am Tiffany Worthington the Third,” she intoned, as if giving her academic credentials.

“Good for you,” I said, grabbing the handle of my suitcase. It was on wheels so I could easily pull it to the school. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go do this amazing thing called
walking
,” I said in a mocking tone.

Barbie Girl – sorry, Tiffany-the-freaking-Third – was definitely surprised now by my sarcastic response. She looked mystified for a second, but then quickly regained her composure. “I suppose I can walk up there too,” she said, mostly to herself. “Here, take this.” She pushed her heavy, expensive purse into my arms.

I held the bag in wonderment. “Wait! What?” I barked at her.

“I’ll let you carry that for me. How long do you think it’ll take for us to walk up there?” she asked, turning her frowny face to the school, calculating the long miles of torture she was about to endure.

That was it! I was now officially pissed off. Who the hell did this girl think she was?

“For me, only a few minutes. For you, with those high heels of yours, maybe half an hour. Good luck with that,” I said through clenched teeth and shoved the bag back into her hands – hard. “And thanks for the offer, but you can carry the bag your damn self.”

And with that I stormed off. The nerve of that girl! Let ME carry HER bag. Pft! Yeah, like that was going to happen. When hell freezes over!

I dragged my case without looking back, taking extra care not to slip on the muddy patches of the road. After a few minutes, I started to feel less angry; a few minutes more and I almost forgot about annoying Barbie Girl. The school buildings were getting closer, and the walk in the cold air was invigorating.

I was starting to enjoy the view when I heard the crunching sound of wheels on asphalt. I looked back and saw that the limo had managed to get unstuck and was now driving up the road, in my direction. Just great! She was going to rub it in my face now. If I had just sucked it up and carried her purse, I’d have a ride to the school now. I shook my head. I have my pride. I would rather walk a million miles on foot than suck up to Barbie-the-Third!

The limo accelerated and passed right through a puddle in front of me, splashing me all over with murky mud. What the hell? I stood still, frozen, shocked and disgusted, red mud dripping from all my clothes. Did she get her driver to do that on purpose? The little bitc—

Okay. Calm down, Joey. Breathe. That’s it. In and out. Continue walking. You cannot start your first day at school with a spot of cold-blooded murder.