At the same time Alex decided to decamp, Isobel’s presence seemed to intensify. Every night I could hear her in the halls, sometimes laughing, other times crying. Sometimes I would be woken in the night by an earsplitting shriek. One day Harry drove me into town to get supplies from the pharmacy, and on the way home, I saw her by the lake, twirling in a gossamer gown to a silent melody. It made Gran’s ownership of Grange Hall feel fraudulent, as if Isobel was still the real mistress of the house. It made me feel like I was trespassing, too, but I figured that was exactly how she hoped I’d feel.
I didn’t get it, though. Isobel’s hatred for me seemed disproportionate. What did she think was going to happen between Alex and me? What could happen? Maybe I was missing something. I resolved to ask him about it if he ever deigned to make an appearance again. He was the only one who could possibly answer my growing list of questions. Why was I having these visions? What did they mean? Was Isobel controlling them, or were there other forces at work? And just to address the elephant in the room, where the hell was Alex? What was he playing at? Had he been unsuccessful in his attempt to sever Isobel’s hold over him? Was he staying away in some twisted attempt to protect me? Could he be jealous over my burgeoning friendship with Joe? I couldn’t deny that I liked Joe, but I needed Alex…and not just for protection. I felt like he was a key I needed to unlock a vital part of myself. His absence was making me uneasy, in a lull before the storm kind of way. I spent my nights tossing and turning and constantly looked a little worse for wear as a result. Gran looked at me curiously as she neatly tapped the top off a boiled egg at breakfast.
“You look tired, dear. Didn’t you sleep well?”
“Not really,” I admitted.
“Perhaps you ought to try meditation.”
Sure, Gran, I thought, bitterly. That’ll solve all my problems.
“Or a long bath,” she went on. “That always helps clear my head.” As an astute reader of people, she knew something was up. But she’d never be able to guess what. Besides, she wasn’t the type to believe in anything weird or wacky. If there was no concrete evidence, she’d just dismiss it. Except for Jesus. He was the only one who didn’t need to prove himself.
I had real-life drama unfolding before me with every passing day. I didn’t need my books for that. By the time we’d finished breakfast, my frustration needed some kind of outlet. I threw on a coat and mittens and bolted out into the wintry morning. I could feel Alex’s presence, as if he was close by watching me but refusing to make an appearance.
I broke into a jog and kept going until I reached the clearing in the woods, a safe distance from the house. I ran so hard I began to sweat under all my layers of clothing. I peeled off the coat and tossed it onto a pile of dead leaves. Then I spread my arms wide and tilted my face up to the sky.
“Alex!” I yelled as loudly as I could. “Where are you?”
I turned in a full circle, mistaking every shadow or scuffle in the underbrush for his presence. But he wasn’t there, and with every passing second, I grew angrier and angrier. He was messing everything up. I had one cardinal rule when it came to dating—never chase a guy, dead or alive.
“Fine, be a jerk!” I shouted, kicking at the dirt. “But I just want you to know, this is very uncool. Friends don’t bail on friends when things get tough.
“You know, I’m glad you’re not here. I don’t even want to see you anymore!” I was winding down. There was just one thing left to say, whether he could hear me or not. “My bad for thinking you were one of the good guys.”
I ran full pelt back to the house, barely stopping to draw breath. I went straight up to my room, blowing off Rory when I passed him on the stairs. The moment I slammed the bedroom door behind me, I saw it. The window was open a fraction, even though I was sure I’d left it firmly shut when I’d left earlier that morning. There, sitting on the windowsill, was a single sprig of winter jasmine. A cascading bush of it was growing at the bottom of the porch steps. I only knew it by name because Harry had pointed it out to me once, trying to educate me on local flora. I twirled the stem between my fingers. I knew it was from Alex; a peace offering of sorts, his way of letting me know that, despite his absence, I hadn’t been forgotten. It had a pacifying effect.
I placed the flower on my pillow and lay down beside it. Even though it was only midday, I found myself drifting into a restless sleep.
I sat up to find Alex in my room. I knew I was dreaming, because everything wore that silver sheen that can never be replicated in real life. Plus the moon outside was so big and low in the sky, I thought it might swallow up the house. He was sitting in a chair by the window, wearing a loose white shirt and riding boots, as if he’d just jumped off a horse. He was staring out the window toward the woods as if the answer to all of life’s mysteries could be found there. His wheat-gold hair was tousled and took on a pale sheen in the moonlight.
I felt a rush of blood to my head and hastily tucked my hair behind my ears, before remembering I was supposed to be mad at him. Funny how my anger evaporated the moment I laid eyes on him. I slid out of bed, conscious of my heart-print flannel pajamas, and folded my arms accusingly.
“And where exactly have you been?” I demanded, even though part of me simply wanted to enjoy his unexpected return.
“Not far,” he answered softly, turning his head to look at me.
“And how was I supposed to know that? I thought you’d bailed.”
“Bailed?”
“Y’know…gone for good.”
“I’m never really gone.” There was a twinge of sadness in his voice. “I’ve told you that.”
“Well, you could have at least given me a sign.” I found myself mimicking his voice. “Perhaps as a matter of courtesy?”
“I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he answered. “But I did try to give you a sign.”
I looked around for my flower. It wasn’t resting on my pillow anymore. Someone had moved it to the dresser. It looked fragile now, like the petals were already wilting.
“I don’t like when you’re not around.” I tried to pull off Isobel’s flirtatious charm, but my voice just came out sounding infantile.
“I came back,” Alex replied. “Doesn’t that count for something?”
“But this isn’t even real… .” I paused, not entirely certain anymore. “Is it?”
He shrugged. “Does it matter? Waking or sleeping, I’m still not real.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t about to let him off this easy. “You can’t pull a no-show all week and then invade my dreams.”
The newfound attitude in my tone seemed to amuse him.
“Do you see it as an invasion?” he asked with a wry smile.
“You bet I do!” I wasn’t ready to give up my moral high ground just yet.
Alex cupped his chin in his hand. “That’s interesting.”
“What’s interesting about it?”
“You invited me in.” His brilliant blue eyes danced over my face in a way that made what I was about to say fall right out of my head.
“Wait, what?”
“I was your last thought before you went to sleep.”
I opened my mouth to protest but then remembered that I couldn’t actually deny that.
He waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t intentional. We are not in control of our subconscious.”
“Exactly,” I said gruffly. Then added as an afterthought, “How does that even work?”
“In sleep, our defenses are down and it becomes easier for the living and the dead to communicate. That’s why so many dream of loved ones immediately after their passing. Sometimes it’s their way of saying goodbye.”
I remembered having the most vivid dream about my mom the night we left the hospital. There had been a feeling of calm in the dream, and I’d
known she was trying to tell me she was okay. Of course, the next morning, things were no better. I wanted her to be at peace but wasn’t anywhere near ready to let her go.
A worrying thought crossed my mind. “Is that what you’re doing now?”
“Of course not. This is about me not being able to stand the idea of you getting hurt.”
“For the record, disappearing from someone’s life without explanation could be construed as hurtful, too.”
“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?”
“Of course I have.” I sighed. “But I don’t want to just see you in dreams. How do I know that I didn’t make the whole thing up?”
“You didn’t,” he assured me. “But we must be patient for a while…until things calm down. Can you do that for me?”
His use of that inclusive we went a long way toward making me feel better. I nodded in agreement.
“Good. Would you like to wake up now? Your grandmother would certainly disapprove of long daytime naps. She’s probably on her way up here right now.”
“Who cares,” I said. “Can’t we talk a little longer?”
Alex inclined his head. “We may talk as long as you wish.”
“So…” It took a moment to build up my nerve. “Did you miss me?”
A slow smile crept over his face, reminding me of the sun coming up over a hill. “More than you can imagine.”
“Really?” It was hard to hide my pleasure. I felt sufficiently encouraged by his admission to go down a bolder track. “Alex, if this is my dream, does that mean I can make anything happen?”
“You’re in charge,” he replied.
“If I’m in charge, what are you doing all the way over there?”
If I’d said that in real life, my cheeks would have been blazing. Who was I kidding? I never would have said it in the first place. But this was a dream. I spent so much of my waking life trying to keep it together, making sure I didn’t say the wrong thing. But what were dreams for, if you couldn’t finally let yourself go a little? I didn’t even feel like Chloe anymore. I felt as if some seductive and superconfident alter ego had taken me over.
Alex was watching me with a curious expression. “Where, pray tell, would you like me to be, Miss Kennedy?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you really need to ask, Mr. Reade?”
It worked. A moment later, he wasn’t in the chair anymore but lying next to me on my bed in all his princely beauty. I felt something stir inside me that I hadn’t felt before. It was intoxicating and nerve-racking at the same time. His scent enveloped me, but there was an undertone I struggled to place. Could it be sandalwood or was it cinnamon? Maybe it wasn’t anything that could be labeled by any earthly object. But to me, it was the smell of riding bareback through the woods in the rain. I’d never been the sort of girl who liked to share her personal space, but being this close to Alex only made me want to get closer. But any closer would mean… Well, it wasn’t something I’d ever done before.
Truth be told, the furthest I’d ever gone with a guy was making out and a bit of heavy petting in his car, what we’d referred to as first base in school. I knew Sam and Natalie would be shocked if they uncovered that little secret. Between the two of them, my friends could write a book of sexcapades to rival that of many thirty-year-olds. I’d lied to them about it for fear of being labeled frigid, one of the more indelible of high-school stains.
I wasn’t a prude. It wasn’t like I needed a ring on my finger or anything, but I’d always wanted the circumstances to be just right. The only opportunities that had been presented to me involved frat boys encountered at college parties we’d gate-crashed, obscene hip-hop music and an overwhelming smell of tequila. And the boys had always had single-syllable names like Chad or Brad or Chuck. You’d think they’d be easy to remember, but they were surprisingly difficult. I was holding out for the right time, the right place and the right guy. I wanted it to be a special memory, not something I would later want to block out.
My mom’s voice floated back to me: Don’t do it if you’d be ashamed to tell your children about it. I had taken her advice and always believed that when the right moment came along, I’d just know.
I realized that dream-sex with a ghost might be slightly nontraditional, but maybe this was my perfect circumstance. It was different for everyone, right? For the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to want someone. I wanted to feel Alex’s hands on my skin. I wanted to drag my fingers through his hair like I’d seen Isobel do. I wanted to press my forehead against his and feel the thrum of our entwined bodies. So this was what passion felt like! This was what prompted lovers to take wild risks. I understood now how invincible Romeo and Juliet had felt. “With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls.”
The best part was seeing my desire reflected in Alex’s eyes. All my self-doubt crumbled to dust. As he lay beside me, his breath warm on my neck, I wondered how I’d ever be able to look at a living, breathing boy the same way again. How could anyone else ever again stand a chance?
The next thing I knew, I was fumbling with my pajama top, trying to look irresistible at the same time. Alex watched me intently, his eyes traveling over my body in a way that made me shiver from head to foot. I could feel my leg pressed against his. Then he did something unexpected. He put his hand over mine and stopped me.
Wait. That wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
He bowed his head and pressed my fingers to his lips. Then, to my disappointment, he slid away from me, returning to his post by the window.
“I don’t understand,” I said, self-conscious at last.
“We’re not ready, Chloe,” he answered. “We should wait.”
“Wait for what? This isn’t even real—you said so yourself.”
Alex’s features were pinched as he tried to find the right words. “I wouldn’t want you doing anything you might regret…even in a dream.”
“I thought you said my dream, my rules?” I reminded him.
“Not this time.”
* * *
I sat bolt upright and rubbed my eyes. The day was so gloomy, it was hard to tell what time it was. Alex was there, fully clothed and standing like a sentinel at my window, watching the winter sun struggle to make an appearance from behind a curtain of cloud.
“Sleep well?”
“Am I awake?” I pinched myself to make sure.
“You are now.”
“I just had the weirdest dream.”
“I know. I was there.”
“Great. I was hoping I’d made that part up.” I grabbed a pillow and hid my face in it. I’d never been so humiliated. Getting rejected in real life was bad enough. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally behave like that, I swear.”
“There’s no need to apologize, Chloe. I got to see a new side of you, one, you may rest assured, that was not easy to resist.”
“Yeah, but you managed,” I said, voice muffled by the pillow.
“Only because I’ve had decades to work on my self-control.”
I threw my pillow aside. “What are you saying? That I’m just a horny seventeen-year-old with no sense of boundaries?”
“Please don’t remind me that you’re only seventeen.”
“Seventeen is the new twenty-one,” I told him. “And just for the record, could what happened…or rather didn’t happen just now…ever, you know, happen for real?” It was potentially the clumsiest sentence I’d ever spoken, but I think he got the gist.
“I’ve never exactly tried it.” His eyes twinkled as he gave me his most beguiling smile. “Maybe one day we’ll find out.”
At that moment, as if in response to his words, my door handle began to rattle violently as if someone outside were trying to wrench it from its hinges. We both he
ard the growl, deep and guttural, as if a wild animal was stalking the halls. I opened my mouth to speak, but a second later Alex was by my side, pressing cool, slender fingers over my mouth.
“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered. Then he slowly unclamped his fingers and positioned himself in front of me. Goose bumps covered my arms as someone outside turned the handle very slowly and deliberately. Alex passed his fingers over his eyes, indicating for me to feign sleep.
Trust me, he mouthed before fading out of sight.
I rolled onto my side, my heart seeming to pound right out of my chest. It was so loud I was sure it would betray me. When the door opened, the cold air that rushed in transformed the room into an icebox. I realized my hands were balled into fists, clutching the sheets. I relaxed them and tried to focus on regulating my breathing. I prayed Alex knew what he was doing. I trusted him, I reassured myself. I trusted him with my life.
I heard the rustle of silk as Isobel approached the bed. There was a strange rattling sound I couldn’t place until I realized it was her breathing with lungs full of water. Her damp hair brushed against my cheek as she leaned over me. I imagined her trying to suck my soul from my body. I could feel my skin crawling. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep this up, so I repeated Alex’s name over and over in my head, focusing hard on each syllable. Finally satisfied that I was indeed asleep, Isobel moved away. I heard objects on my dresser being moved around and dared to open my eyes a fraction to see her standing like a shadow, her back to me. She picked up each item in turn and studied it as if it might offer clues to a mystery. That mystery was me.
Isobel stiffened as her eye fell on the sprig of jasmine Alex had left for me. She picked it up and twirled the stem in front of her face, inhaling the heady scent. Then her shoulders went completely rigid as she randomly crushed the fragile flower between her long, bony fingers.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Despite his promise, I knew Joe had ratted me out by the look on Gran’s face over breakfast. She didn’t bother trying to hide it; she just fixed her stern gaze on me and frowned over the rim of her teacup.
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