“Especially not with Homecoming in a few weeks,” Quinn reminded her.
“Way to make it worse. Some friend.”
For the first time in a while, the smile that touched Spencer’s lips wasn’t forced. She hadn’t realized how much she missed their witty banter, or just hanging out at Phil’s. The familiar sounds of billiard balls clinking actually made her relax some.
When a waitress walked by trailing in her wake the thick scent of gooey cheese and beef patty her mouth actually watered. When was the last time she’d eaten? Oh, right, an apple at lunch. That was almost seven hours ago.
“We’ve so got to go shopping for dresses,” Sydney was saying now. “There’s that little boutique where we got them last year. We should totally go back. What was that place called again? Something with an ‘R’, right? Robin’s…Ruby’s…”
“Rachel’s,” Spencer supplied, waving down a waitress distractedly.
“Right! Rachel’s. That place was cool. And it only took us, like, an hour to find awesome outfits.”
“We still have a few weeks,” Quinn said. “We have time to shop.”
“Not if we want to be sure to find matching shoes we don’t.”
One of the waitresses noticed Spence waving, and signaled that she’d be over in a minute. With that task completed, she settled back down, sending her gaze around the room.
Phil’s was sectioned off by three different levels, differentiated by a set of stairs consisting of three steps each. In order to get over to the section where they were with the booths, one needed to step up a set. The main floor, right where the door opened, was where the front register and counter was placed. During the day this section also doubled as a diner. The last section, where the bar and pool tables were, were all the way to the right, and one needed to go down three stairs.
That’s where she saw him. The stranger watching her out of narrowed eyes. At first, she was sure it was just a coincidence—like he’d been scanning the room same as her, and they’d happened to lock gazes—but when he didn’t look away, she wondered.
He was attractive, if harsh was your type, with chestnut colored hair similar to her own, and a thin straight nose. She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, but at the moment, she didn’t really care all that much.
He was dressed in low-hanging navy jeans and a black t-shirt, and she thought she saw the swirl of something, like a tattoo, on the right side of his neck. He watched her during her whole perusal. Probably hadn’t even blinked. It was off-putting how displeased with her he seemed to be. Considering they’d never met before, she couldn’t begin to guess what his problem was.
“Hey do you know—” she stopped abruptly, the rest of the sentence dying on her lips.
Someone had stepped in front of her line of sight, and when they’d passed creepy-lurker-guy had vanished. She twisted her head around to see if she could locate him, but the place was either too crowded or he’d snuck off somehow.
“Do we know what?” Syd asked, always one for solving a puzzle. She leaned over the table conspiratorially. “The square route of pi? Missy’s new hair color? The 2012 end of the world debacle was a bust? What?”
“How to get to the Underworld?” Shit. She’d been so busy searching for the mystery guy she’d totally forgotten to filter.
“Did she just say—”
“Uh huh,” Syd interrupted Quinn, the two of them staring at her like she’d just sprouted wings. “I knew we shouldn’t have given her so much space!” she went on in a hushed whisper. “But you said it was necessary. That she would be fine. Well, what do you think now, genius?”
“Guys,” Spencer sighed, all set to explain. But they just spoke over her.
“How was I supposed to know she’d come up with a crazy idea like that?” Quinn snapped back, in the same quiet tone so that no one else could hear. “She’s not the type to be suicidal.”
“Sui—” Spencer practically chocked on her laugh. “Wait, hold up. Guys, I’m not thinking about killing myself.”
“You’re not?” Sydney didn’t look convinced.
“Of course not!” she insisted.
“The Underworld is kind of a place for the dead, Spence,” Quinn said. “As in, the only way to get there is to bite it.”
“Yeah, I get that you’re still really hurt over Mic—” Syd began, but was swiftly cut off.
“Whoa,” she shook her head violently, sending long strands of chestnut hair flying. “Whoa. Seriously, guys, it was just a joke. We were talking about it in Mr. Kemmer’s class this morning, that’s all. You’re taking this way too far.”
They seemed to realize this was true and both noticeably deflated.
“You’re right,” Quinn agreed, smiling as the waitress finally came over. “Sorry.”
“Forgiven?” Syd added with an awkward grin of her own.
“Sure,” she rolled her eyes at them for effect. “But you two are now buying.”
“Deal,” they said in unison.
As they turned to the waitress to order their usual—cheeseburgers, fries, and strawberry milkshakes—Spencer excused herself to the restroom.
After how close they’d just come to berating her for her “Underworld” plan, she needed some breathing room. Not to mention the almost mention of Micah. They hadn’t talked about him other than those few times at his funeral. She absolutely refused. It was just too hard for her to mourn the same way as them and not let slip that he was still hovering around at her place.
They’d all been really close. They’d be hurt that they couldn’t see him too, and a secret part of her worried that sharing the information would somehow make him disappear.
Not that she really even had a “plan” in regards to the whole Underworld thing. At least, not exactly. But it did all make sense. Ghosts were real. Ghosts needed a place to go. An actual place meant there had to be an actual way in.
A door to the Underworld.
The issue was finding it—in a way other than dying. She didn’t have a death wish, no matter what her two friends had momentarily believed. It was going to be a lot harder to find out if there really was such a place than she’d originally hoped, however, what with Micah not knowing anything about the afterlife or where he went to when she wasn’t around.
Which made her feel even guiltier for being out with Syd and Quinn. Here she was about to enjoy a hot meal with their friends while he…what? Momentarily ceased to exist?
So lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t see him standing there until it was too late. She sucked in a breath when she walked into him, practically knocking herself over in the process.
He didn’t bother to help steady her, instead watching with that same narrowed gaze as she struggled to right herself courtesy of the nearby wall.
She opened her mouth to say something when Syd’s voice came shooting over her shoulder. She turned to find her blonde friend standing in the entrance to the back hallway that led to the bathrooms, a frown marring her face.
“What’s going on?” Sydney asked, stepping up to her side and placing a protective hand on her arm. She glanced suspiciously towards the creepy-lurker-guy.
Her eyes widened when he actually flashed her friend a smile, exposing straight teeth and dimples. In a split second he’d gone from scary to cute.
“Syd, hey,” he said, reaching out to stroke her shoulder lightly. “Long time no see.”
“Oh my god!” Just like that Sydney was bursting forward into his arms. “When did you get here? How are you? Spence,” she flashed an excited grin her way, “this is Charlie Ferris! The guy I met last summer at my parent’s beach house. The one whose parents are friends with mine?”
She must have seen the confusion on Spencer’s face because she heaved a sigh. “Ringing any bells?”
Nope. Not a one.
“Sorry,” she shrugged, then nodded towards the guy. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, same here.” He turned back to Syd, clearly dismissing her. Throwing an ar
m around her shoulders, he began leading her back towards the front of the restaurant. “Where are you sitting? Room for one more?”
Sydney’s answer was swallowed up by the sounds of a group of guys playing pool, but a hint of her laughter reached Spencer’s ears.
Weird, but she really couldn’t recall a single time her friend had mentioned meeting anyone named Charlie on her summer trip the year before.
She used the restroom in a daze, desperately racking her brain for any recollection of the name Charlie or Ferris. Nothing. Had she become such a recluse that now she was losing memories, too?
When she returned, Spencer was glad to see that Quinn had moved over to her side of the booth in order to allow Sydney and Charlie to sit together. She didn’t mind so much sharing the seat with her, but she would have flipped if she’d found they’d sat him there.
They were already deep in conversation when she slid in next to Quinn, and within another few minutes their food arrived, along with an extra plate for Charlie.
For a guy who’d been staring her down earlier, he sure didn’t seem interested at all now. He’d probably been trying to figure out if that was Syd or not, and she’d just mistaken his looks for ones directed at her.
“What are you doing in town?” Syd asked him, lifting a fry to her bubblegum pink lips. The girl never went anywhere without lip gloss.
“It was kind of a last minute thing,” he told her. “I know someone in town and he needs a ride out.”
“Out?” Spencer quirked a brow. Weird way of putting it.
He barely even spared her a glance. “Yes, out of town. He needs to leave; I’m his ride.”
“So you came all the way here just to pick up a friend?” Quinn smiled approvingly. “That’s a serious good guy move. And your parents were just cool with you doing that? Don’t you have school?”
“I’m older than I look.” His grin was anything but innocent.
Spence seemed to be the only one to notice.
“Oh, so you’re in college?” Quinn nodded. “Cool.”
“Couldn’t your friend have taken the bus?” Spencer asked, receiving glares from the other two girls. “What?”
“Where’s he now?” Sydney glanced around the room as if she’d somehow missed another human being trailing behind him. “Is he here?”
“No,” he said. “I’ll see him at his girlfriend’s later.”
“Who’s he dating? Maybe I know her.”
“I’m sure you do.” That was all he said, like he refused to answer the question.
What really bugged Spencer about it though was the fact that Syd didn’t seem the least bit upset over it. She just kept on talking like it was no big deal.
“So what’s your major?” Quinn asked.
“Anthropology,” he told them, a certain gleam coming into his eyes that Spence couldn’t place.
It made her really uncomfortable though, and she squirmed a little in her seat before she could stop herself.
“Oh,” Sydney waved a French fry in the air, “that’s like the study of living, right?”
“Well, yes,” he grinned, “though I’m actually focusing my thesis on anthropology of death.”
When he said it, Spencer’s blood went cold. For a split second the room spun, and she could have sworn he was saw it; saw her reaction, and even smiled wider because of it.
“See,” he went on, directing his attention back onto the other two as if she wasn’t even there, “that’s the study of how different cultures deal with death. What they believe and think of it. How they cope. I deal a lot with the different ways people mourn for their deceased loved ones, as well as different burial ceremonies there are and whatnot.”
“Are there a lot?” Quinn asked, leaning closer across the table, interest clear in her eyes.
For once, Spencer wanted to know the answer to that as well. She’d never taken the same drive academically as her friend, but this was one subject she really wanted to know about.
“Tons,” he responded. “Each culture has a different way of dealing with things, a different view on how best to honor their dead. Take this one, for instance. Here, most people get buried. But cremation isn’t uncommon either. In more ancient times, it was traditional to send a body down river and light the boat carrying it on fire. The Egyptians chose mummification, for those most important, of course.
“My favorite however,” his eyes met hers, “is the Greeks. Did you know they believed that everyone went to the Underworld once they were dead? Gold coins were placed on the body, either over their eyes or under their tongues, so that the soul could pay for their crossing into that realm. Fascinating, isn’t it? What people will believe.”
“It’s funny you should mention that,” Sydney said. “Spence was just talking about it earlier.”
She’d gone completely still, so much so that she could literally hear the rushing of blood through her body. Her heartbeat thumped away like the pounding of war drums.
“Really?” his voice had gone incredibly soft. “How coincidental.”
Why did she feel like he was lying through his teeth?
Chapter 3:
Ferris—as he was apparently called—didn’t have a curfew. So when it was time for them to leave, he opted to stick around Phil’s. The second the other two had turned their backs and headed for the door, Spencer had caught him scowling at her again.
She’d turned tail and hurried off after them as fast as her feet could carry her.
What the hell had all of that been about anyway? He’d spoken about the Greeks and their take on the Underworld for a bit longer, but had allowed Sydney to change the subject after only sharing a couple more facts.
The rest of the evening he’d all but ignored her for the others, as if wanting her to have time to stew in his words.
The twisted thing was that when he talked about it, it didn’t really seem like he believed it was merely a cultural belief. It was almost like he thought it was real. Which was strange, seeing as how the only reason she’d even been playing with that idea was because she had a ghost for a boyfriend.
What was his excuse?
And the way he’d watched her…almost like he’d known…it gave her the creeps.
“Isn’t he the cutest?” Syd said not a minute after they’d piled into her gold Camry.
“You know, it’s weird, but I really can’t remember you ever mentioning him,” Quinn told her. “But he seems cool enough.”
“Thank you!” Spencer added. “Glad I’m not the only one.”
Sydney made a face at them in the rearview mirror. “Oh, come on! How can neither of you remember? I must have talked about him for weeks afterwards! He was just about the only person my age there to hang out with.”
“What do you mean?” Spence frowned. “What about that girl, Beth?”
“Who?”
Beth was a girl that Sydney had supposedly met at the beach. She’d claimed when she’d returned last September that the two of them had been attached at the hip.
“Come on, Syd,” Quinn prompted.
“What? I’m serious. I have no clue what you guys are talking about. I spent the entire summer with Ferris. Maybe we ran into this girl, Beth, or whatever, but she couldn’t have been anyone important because I don’t remember her.”
Quinn looked at Spencer, clearly thinking the same thing about Syd’s memory loss. No matter how hard they insisted, the rest of the ride home was the same thing.
It was strange, but at the same time Sydney had lots of friends. It wasn’t too big a stretch to believe she’d somehow forgotten a few. She hadn’t even recognized Ferris when she’d stumbled upon them in the hallway. He’d had to say something first.
Once they’d reached her house Spencer was all too eager to get out. To get back to Micah. She’d had plenty of time to think more on her ideas of the Underworld while Syd and Ferris had been lost in their own bubble. Now she was ready to share them with Micah. There had to be something, someway, he coul
d remember where he went.
Her parents were already asleep when she walked in. They both worked a town over at the local college, so their schedules varied on a daily basis based on when they had classes to teach.
The clock read that it was only nine o’clock as she breezed past the living room and up the stairs, moving as quietly as she could manage.
She reached for her bedroom door knob and then froze. She could have sworn… Pressing her ear against the door, she held her breath.
Yup, there were definitely voices coming from inside her room. She recognized one, and it was enough to cause her heart to stop in her chest. The other was too muffled to make out.
Throwing open the door, her eyes went wide when they landed on Ferris and Micah, the two of whom had clearly just been in the middle of an argument.
They stood to the right of her room, and when she gasped, Micah took the other guy’s momentary distraction to pull away, blinking out only to reappear on the other side of the bed.
Ferris let out a curse, and placed those accusatory eyes on her once more.
“How—” She shook her head. There was no way he could have beaten her here, even if he had known where she lived. Which he hadn’t. “How did you get here?”
“Please,” he scoffed. “As if I’d be bound to the same earthly plains as you.”
“He’s trying to take me away,” Micah told her, out of breath. Which was odd, considering he no longer needed to breathe.
She looked between the two, confusion blooming brightly on her face. “Who are you?” she asked him then. “You can see him?” She pointed dramatically towards her boyfriend. “What is going on?”
“At least close the door,” Ferris said. “You’ll wake your parents and then where will we be? Hmm?”
Not being able to find anything wrong with that logic, she clicked the door shut behind her, pressing her back firmly against it in the process. They stared at each other a long moment, no one moving an inch.
“You didn’t meet Syd at the beach house, did you?” her voice came out just a whisper.
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