Uncertainty (5 page)

I'd believed in ghosts before, misty apparitions and restless spirits. Maybe I still did. But not this. Because she looked as real as a flesh and blood, living person.

"No. You can't be here. No. You can't be here." I repeated it over and over, a mantra.

"What's up with you?" Jenna asked casually, frowning. I couldn't look away from her. I was afraid she would disappear if I blinked.

"You can't be here," I repeated again, this time more loudly. Her frown deepened into a scowl.

"Why not?" she demanded. "I came back to see you. That's what you wanted. Am I not invited over anymore or something?"

The last part was said entirely in sarcasm. Like she'd ever not be invited over; we practically lived at each others' houses. When she was alive.

"It's not that..." I said, desperately trying to make sense of things. Any moment I was going to snap entirely.

"I know you were mad. It was a fight. That's why I came back," Jenna explained, sitting up a little. She was looking at the ceiling. "When did you put those stars up?"

"Never mind about that," I said sharply. I tried desperately to cling to the truth and not get sucked into this fantasy.

"Well, anyway, I get that you were pissed. I was knocking on those doors for hours, I swear. Were you just ignoring me or did you not hear me?"

I thought back, all those months ago. The knocking on the wall. Had it been Jenna the whole time, trying to get through to me?

"What is the matter with you?" she continued, sitting up and dangling her legs over the edge of the mattress. Nothing on the bed so much as wiggled, the frame was still, the comforter rumpled but unmoving. "Did somebody die?"

A disgusted laugh burbled up my throat. My hip hit the doorknob just as I realized I was backing away. Part of me was afraid of her, I realized. The pain in my hip felt far away.

"You died, Jenna." I finally answered. "You're dead."

She raised her penciled eyebrows in disbelief. I expected her to freak out.

"Stop being weird," she scoffed. "You watch too many of those stupid horror movies, Ariel, I'm telling you. They rot your brain."

"I'm not kidding," I said. "You walked out a year ago and never came back. They found your body in the lake."

The lack of tears shocked me as I recounted the facts this time. After Jenna disappeared, until they found her, I hadn't been able to cry. Then, when I heard they'd found her body, all the tears I had kept bottled up poured out. I often missed the ability to keep my eyes dry.

And now that she was right here, the sad emotions felt distant, as though related to something else entirely.

"I went to your funeral," I continued softly. "I watched them lower your coffin into the ground and throw dirt of top. Whatever you are now, a spirit, a ghost..."

"How am I having this conversation with you if I'm dead, freak show?" Jenna asked, irritation flaring again. The necklace bearing her name jiggled against her collarbone. I had forgotten how quick her temper was. One of the few things she and Theo had in common, actually.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But I've seen ghosts before."

"Oh, so you're just crazy," Jenna said, crossing her arms. But it was in the teasing tone of voice I knew so well, the one that used to pick on me for pairing that shirt with those pants.

"It's very possible I am, yeah," I said flatly. "But its possible I just see dead people."

She laughed, and her laughter broke my heart.

"Wow, now you're even quoting from movies," she exclaimed. Still giggling, she wiped her eyes beneath mascaraed lashes. "Get some better source material, chica."

"Ariel! I need to speak with you!" All that wasted air rushed out in a gust as my breath caught. Claire was yelling at me, her voice cutting like a siren through the ceiling. For all I knew, she'd been yelling my name for a while.

The last thing I needed was my irate, overbearing mother stomping down the stairs right now, tackling me like a board meeting. I didn't know what would be worse — if she found me ranting alone like a lunatic, or if she saw Jenna there.

"I'll be right back," I said, holding my hands up to stall my friend. I dashed into the hall, nearly tripping over a stack of boxes. At the stairs, I paused with one foot on the bottom step. I went back and leaned in my open doorway. Jenna still sat motionless on my bed, staring at the maniac that was me.

"Don't disappear," I said. Then I scrambled back out.

"I won't disappear, because I'm not a damn ghost!" I heard her call behind me, followed by a string of more colorful four letter words.

I ran up the stairs, self-consciously scrubbing my cheeks. I was still wearing my sweat clothes, which wasn't all that unusual for me to sleep in. Sans the mud on the knees. How they got so dirty, I couldn't remember. I wondered if old Hawkeye Claire would comment on it.

What if she had been awake, after all? And she'd just been waiting for me to come back home so that she could read me the riot act...she could be vindictive, I'd seen it directed against her twin sister, my Aunt Corinne.

But when I reached the top of the stairs, she was dressed and ready for work, clutching her briefcase and laptop bag with one hand.

"There you are. You would sleep through the apocalypse," she chastised me.

"What —" I began, but she was in a hurry, puttering around the house and looking through me like clear glass.

"I just wanted to let you know the game plan. For once school is done."

"Game plan?" I asked. This was her big serious matter? The hysterical urge to giggle was almost impossible to resist. But somehow I kept mum.

"Yes. It would benefit everyone in this household if you started doing more chores around here. Hugh and I have been working later hours, and it's not going to let up anytime soon. Especially since your father insists on being there for every routine detail at his gallery, even when Gwen is more than capable of taking care of..."

"Claire, the point?" I asked impatiently.

"When you get out of school," she continued, "There's a list of chores on the fridge. I won't be home until close to dark, so you and your father need to forage, okay?"

She kissed my cheek, leaving a sticky imprint of gloss. My heart skipped a beat as she gazed into my eyes. Two frown lines she'd recently tried to Botox away appeared between her brows.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine.. I just woke up," I said, looking away from her penetrating stare.

I bet she thought I was on drugs, but since technically those drugs had been prescribed to me, there wasn't much she could say. It would be a typical Claire crisis, though.

We exchanged goodbyes and she rushed out. The strong smell of her perfume lingered behind. As soon as I heard her car pull out of the driveway, I ran back downstairs.

I didn't stop until I reached my room. It was empty.

"Jenna?" I called out. I pushed the door wide open on its hinges so it banged the wall. She said she wouldn't leave. I looked around, behind the bed, but she wasn't anywhere. Panic rushed up through me again, reminding me that I was still in the persistent embrace of medication withdrawal.

But I knew I'd seen Jenna. I wasn't giving up that easily.

Investigating the basement, I tossed blankets and boxes, calling out her name quietly so that if Hugh came down he wouldn't hear me. But I still couldn't find a sign of her. The french doors were locked from the inside.

I retreated to my room. The clock radio started blaring Nickleback, making me jump. I belly-flopped on the bed and yanked the power cord out of the socket. It was time to get ready for school, and staying here wasn't helping me.

Rushing into fresh clothes, my body apparently seemed to realize I'd barely slept and attempted to force a shut down. It felt like weights were tied to my limbs, but I forced myself to keep moving.

Upstairs in the bathroom, I splashed bitingly cold water on my face. Smudging concealer over the dark shadows cradling my eyes, I hoped I didn't look too much like a zombie. It was only a few hours. And people didn't inspect me very carefully anymore.

The Toyota's bleating horn honked outside. Theo was right on time. She always was, considering we lived next to each other. I muttered a curse under my breath, yanked my backpack off of where it hung on one of the dining room chairs, and ran outside.

The windows were rolled down to the already humid air. Fast-moving, heavy clouds promised rain above, but probably not soon enough for relief. The fog had burned away, but everything had the early morning softness of slumber.

As I slid into the passenger seat, I heard Theo humming along with an indie song on the radio. She was chewing a big wad of neon green gum, smacking her lips together.

"We're almost free!" she sang out, a toothy smile lighting up her face. She'd twisted her hair up in a barrette, tendrils framing her cheeks. When I didn't return the smile, her good mood crashed.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her body tensed on alert.

"I just didn't sleep well," I said quickly. I didn't want to give her any reason to freak out. "I had a bunch of nightmares. I've been worrying too much again."

She relaxed, the seat belt going slack across her chest. "Oh. Well, after school we can go out to eat and trash talk all of the people we won't see until next year. My treat. And no is not an option."

Putting the car into gear, we set off for school. I glanced once back at my house, wondering what would be awaiting me when I got back.

Sitting still was torture, and at the same time I had to struggle to stay awake. But I made it somehow; all the wiggling kept me alert enough.

Homeroom had been shuffled to the end of the shortened day, so we could clean out our lockers. McPherson came over the intercom. After congratulating us on our great school year, mostly the sports teams in the Big 9 championships, he paused.

"And on a personal note, that is of great significance to me," he began, drawing out each word for effect like a politician giving a victory speech, "I have been invited to become a member of the Thornhill Society. It goes without saying that this is a tremendous honor, and I am committed to helping improve Hell."

I realized my jaw had snapped open. No one else in homeroom was paying the slightest bit of attention. I couldn't think of a reason why a committee of the wealthiest members in Hell would want with McPherson. Maybe all of his relentless butt-kissing to Lainey and Henry's dads had finally paid off, but it seemed awfully farfetched.

Forcing the information out of my mind, I reasoned in five seconds when the bell rang, McPherson's oddball ways would no longer be my concern.

Mr. Landow, the homeroom teacher, sent us out into the hall to empty our lockers. A waste of time, since we'd be using the same ones next year. Everyone around me started dropping the remains of the dead year into huge gray trashcans.

In the back of my locker, I found crumpled up papers and notebooks from earlier in the year. I'd scribbled "Henry and Ariel" and different blends of our names to make a couple moniker. I threw it all away in disgust. Maybe my parents were right to treat me like a baby. Eh, maybe not.

The normal jubilation that accompanied the end of the school year erupted all around me as the closing bell rang. The sound was blown down the hall by a blast of air conditioning. Kids laughing and celebrating, eager to get outside after the pretense of school. I just wanted to get back and figure out where Jenna was, and why she had decided to come back now.

As I navigated towards the exit doors, people pushed me around, one big mass with the desire to move. Everything felt too loud and intense, and the burning on my scalp stung. I dodged to get out of the way of a basketball jock shooting ropes of Silly String at some cheerleaders.

I didn't have enough time to see Henry, let alone get out of his way. He was right there, his corpse eyes fixed ahead. The flow of traffic pressed our bodies together.

A flash of light shot through me. My vision went white, and I could feel the same energy infusing my veins into lightning bolts. My skin was on fire, but pleasure snaked through my stomach and down my legs. Both were equally powerful sensations, scrambling my senses and merging into one feeling.

The floor receded, but I didn't fall. A yanking, tugging feeling replaced the pleasure. My body was trying to turn itself inside out, flesh stretching, muscle tearing.

Invisible fists pummeled my shoulders, like someone tenderizing meat. I tried to duck or move out of the way, but the attacker wouldn't stop hitting. A scream started, a guttural roar, like a lion let loose from its cage. All I knew was pain, and pain was all I deserved.

Then I was back at Hawthorne, the vision a memory.

It took my mind a second to fully grasp the fact that I was down on my knees. The only thing holding me up was Henry, his arms surrounding and supporting my torso. Other students were trampling past us, barely noticing we were in their way.

"Ariel, are you okay?" he asked, the concern in his voice jarring. I looked into his terribly familiar face, feeling a confusing mix of hatred, sadness and hope. Tears rushed up to my eyes, and I shoved him away. He stumbled backwards.