The Ghost and the Goth

15 Alona

Will stared up at me, his face pale except for the black eye he’d gotten from Chris and his bruised and swollen cheek. “What’s happening to you?”

I turned away from him, closing my eyes against the tears that suddenly stung them. “Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” I’d been fighting this sensation of being pulled away since the moment I’d woken in his hospital room. It felt like I’d left part of me behind in the place I couldn’t remember, and something on the other side was working as hard as possible to get the rest of me.

“Think positive thoughts.” He sounded panicked. “Um, makeup sales, prom dresses, sex in the backseat of a limo.”

I shot him a look over my shoulder. “Exactly what kind of prom night do you think I was planning?”

He raked his free hand through his rumpled black hair, making it stand out even more crazily. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to help.”

I shook my head. “Thanks, but it’s not working.”

“Maybe if you think positive thoughts about other people—”

“Killian. I’ve been here two hours, and I’m fading in and out, no matter how often I think about puppies, rainbows, and your surprisingly large biceps.” Ha, let him chew on that one for awhile.

A pause. “My what?”

“Forget it. You were right. There’s a time limit for everyone, and mine is just about up.” Oddly enough, the thought brought relief. I was tired of fighting this … whatever this was. I just wanted to be done.

“No. That doesn’t make sense. You’re my spirit guide … or whatever,” he insisted.

“Yep, one that you don’t listen to.” I wiped under my eyes and shifted on the bed to face him again.

He struggled to pull himself into an awkward half-sitting position. “Okay, I might have been wrong about that. I didn’t throw your papers away.”

“It doesn’t matter, Will. I can’t stay,” I said wearily. That was the conclusion I’d reached while waiting for him to wake up. “I’ve only got a few hours left here, less if I’m here and Gus shows up again, and I’ve got some stuff to do.”

“Things you put off doing until you had no choice.” His shoulders slumped and he sagged back onto the bed.

“Exactly.” I nodded. “You were right about that. And”—I hesitated—“you were right about my mom.”

He looked up, surprised. “Alona,” he said, his voice gentle, not pitying. There was a difference, and I could recognize it now.

I waved away his words and the sudden stinging in my eyes. “Shut up, I don’t want to talk about it now.” I took a deep breath. “But I wanted you to know you were right. And … yes, some of those things I wrote down from Grandpa Brewster and the rest, they probably aren’t what’s holding them here. But”—I leaned closer making sure I had his attention—“some of them are, and you can do something for those people. Hiding doesn’t help anyone, including you. You need to know that.”

He looked away. “What about you? You’re my spirit guide. You’re supposed to stay here for as long as I need you.”

I smiled. “You don’t need me. If you did, I wouldn’t be disappearing, right?”

“We don’t know that.”

The sound of voices in the hall grew louder. “Someone’s coming. I better go.” I took a deep breath, steeling myself to push off his bed and actually leave. Finally leave.

He caught my arm before I could get down. His hand rested warmly against my skin, not passing through or sinking in. He pulled me toward him, his pale blue eyes bright with emotion, and I let him. His mouth, so warm and soft, brushed over mine, once, twice … and lingered. I snuggled closer to his heat, bracing my free hand against the pillow. He let go of my wrist to thread his fingers through my hair and tilt my head. Suddenly, I was being kissed, really kissed, and I leaned into him, tasting him as he tasted me.

The loud clatter of something hitting the floor in the hallway broke us apart.

“Maybe you should have done that earlier,” I said, trying to catch my breath and feeling deliciously warm for the first time in days. “When I was alive.”

He smiled, his cheeks flushed. “When you were alive, you would have hit me.”

“Yeah. True.” I slid off his bed and walked around to the other side.

“Let me come with you,” he said quietly. “I can help.”

I shook my head. “What then? When I’m gone and they find you’ve escaped? What kind of measures do you think they’ll take next time?”

He didn’t say anything. I folded his free wrist back into the restraint, wrapping the fabric as loosely as possible, and he let me. I was right, and he knew it.

I smiled at him, his image suddenly blurry with tears. “You want one last piece of guidance, not that you’ll listen?”

“Alona—” His voice broke.

“Tell your mother the truth. Your dad had his reasons for keeping this secret, okay, fine. But that didn’t work out so well for him. You don’t owe anything to him, you aren’t obligated to do what he did just because you share the same gift.”

“And if she doesn’t believe me?”

I tapped the restraint around his wrist. “Kind of hard for her to make things worse, right?”

“Stay. We’ll figure something out.”

“Please don’t make this any harder, okay?” I forced a choked laugh. “I’m scared enough as it is.”

“Alona, please. Just wait!” He struggled against the restraints.

I straightened my shoulders and gave him my biggest, see-it-from-across-the-football-field smile. “Can’t. Time’s up.” I touched his cheek but pulled away before he could try to grab me. “I’ll come back to you if I can. If not … see you on the other side someday, maybe.” Then I walked through the door and down the hallway before he could change my mind.