The Ghostly Grammar Boy

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The Ghostly Grammar Boy Page 12

by Sandra Thompson

CHAPTER TWELVE

  'Ella!'

  I was livid with rage. I swear, my vision was going red, I was so angry.

  I'd had it.

  Firstly, the icy hand down my back…

  Unnecessary!

  Especially considering it was hardly a one-off. She always chose to materialise in some annoying way.

  Secondly, what took her so long to rescue me? She was always bugging me when I didn't need her, and then when I did, she was nowhere to be seen.

  And, thirdly… Well, my life sucks! I'd been humiliated, harassed, lost my friends, and all at a stupid party that I didn't even want to go to in the first place. The icy hand down my back had pushed me over the edge.

  It was all Ella's fault I was locked in a bedroom.

  At least, that's what I told her when I was screaming at her so hard that her ghostly vision practically blew out the door. I let her have it. All ten minutes of it.

  Considering my voice was almost out-blasting the dance-mix throbbing from downstairs, Ella took it pretty well. She sat down on the bed next to me, gave me a giant hug and a ghostly hanky to wipe up my tears—which, for the record, were not pouring down my face. I guess even ghost twins can understand how hard high school can be sometimes.

  Eventually, my rant toned down into a more coherent rehash of the night so far. I told her what I'd discovered about Carly's ex-boyfriend dramas. I wanted to show Ella the movie, but there was no point since Ella's spectral energy would just cause Carly's computer to freeze up. Ella examined the picture that Carly had graffittied. She was, like me, intrigued about Chris' relationship with Carly and promised to ask him about it.

  I also told Ella what I'd learnt in the library—that Chris' mum had been depressed and died of a drug overdose, and that Shane's and Chris' dads used to be close friends and business partners. Ella was surprised by all of this information. Chris had never mentioned any of it to her. I also related the story of my late-night visit to Chris' house, and my suspicions that Chris had been right about Sharelle having an affair. Ella was impressed by how much I'd done, but it was painfully obvious that I was no closer to working out exactly why Chris had died, or to helping Alan.

  Ella morphed into her translucent form and walked through the door, unlocking it when she reached the other side. I made my escape down the stairs. Unfortunately, the bottom step was blocked by a couple having a messy make-out. I tried to squeeze through without looking at them. The problem was that every time I tried to get through the gap, the boy swung the girl around in an exaggerated display of passion. The poor girl probably had whiplash by now. Finally, after I'd been almost knocked over several times by their swaying, interlocked heads, I tapped the boy on the shoulder, still doing my best to avoid looking at them, and said, 'Excuse me, could I please squeeze through?'

  The couple pulled apart. I could almost hear the reverse suction of their lips as they disentangled themselves.

  'God! Could you give us some space, you pervert?' the girl unfairly complained. She cleared her face of her saliva-matted blonde hair that had plastered itself to her during the vigorous make-out.

  She was not pleased with what she saw when she finally cleared a window through her hair.

  The girl was Hannah.

  'Fiona! … What? … How?' she spluttered.

  Despite the previous trauma of the night, I was enjoying myself. The tables certainly had turned. Now would be the time for a rehash of her nasty taunts about my hair, but instead, I gave them a perky little wave and left Hannah to the company of her new friend. I had a feeling I'd just killed the moment for them.

  I walked outside to the pool area. It was pretty deserted except for a few stragglers. My friends had moved on. Hopefully they were waiting at the cars for me. I made my way out to the street.

  Standing at the kerb together were Carly and Shane, and he had his muscular arm wrapped right around her shoulders. So much for Shane not wanting to go near her. Not that it mattered to me. I mean, I didn't like Shane, and I didn't like Carly, so who cared if they were about to hook up, right?

  I wasn't going to give them any special privacy though.

  I barged right up to them.

  'Has either of you seen my brother?' I demanded.

  Shane and Carly, noticing me for the first time, sprang apart guiltily. At least Shane did. Carly just smirked and looked annoyed.

  'Fiona! Where did you come from? I thought you went home,' Shane said.

  'So have you seen my brother?' I asked again, coldly.

  'What are we, his babysitters?' Carly sneered. 'If you don't mind, we were in the middle of something.' Carly grabbed Shane's arm and tried to turn him away from me. Unfortunately for her, Shane was not the type to be manhandled easily. He ignored her and continued to look at me.

  'I heard Georgia telling Brett you'd gone home. I think he left with your friends. I was kind of annoyed that you didn't come back to talk to me,' he said.

  'Georgia told Brett I'd gone home?' My voice was shrill with anger. I ignored his dig for an apology. 'How am I supposed to get home now?'

  'Who cares? That's not our problem. Could you go and annoy someone else?' Carly sneered again as she made another attempt to pull Shane away from me. 'Come on, babe.' Her voice became tender and alluring as she addressed him. Shane, however, continued to resist her pulling.

  'I'll give you a lift home,' Shane offered, maintaining his eye contact with me. It was starting to get pretty intense.

  'Shane!' Now it was Carly's voice that was shrill. 'We were in the middle of something remember?' Suddenly, as if she realised how desperate she was sounding, she sweetened her tone again. 'I was really enjoying our conversation.'

  'Are you ready to go?' Shane's eyes were still fixed on me, ignoring Carly. I broke the eye contact as my mind raced with possibilities. A part of me really wanted to get a lift with Shane, just to spite Carly. I mean, she deserved it after the stunt her friends had just pulled on me tonight. On the other hand, getting into a car with this boy who had already convincingly proved himself to be an arrogant sleaze might not be the best idea. It was almost like one of those scenarios that they make us brainstorm in our dreaded Social and Emotional Learning classes—and I knew which course of action was the 'high risk' date rape situation. And, if Shane had drunk anything at the party, he would be over the legal alcohol limit for driving. I could always call Brett, or even Mum. They were always going on about how I should never feel like I couldn't ring home in a bad situation, but how was I supposed to explain my mysterious absence from the party? I'd end up either really embarrassed or on house arrest for the rest of my high school days. Besides, I could trust one of Brett's friends, right?

  I looked back up into Shane's eyes.

  'Yes, I'm ready,' I replied.

  A flicker of excitement shone briefly in his eyes. Or was it triumph? Either way, it made my stomach drop. I felt uneasy. I hoped I wouldn't regret my decision.

  'Arrrrrr … Hmph!' A muffled, high pitched, squeaking, groaning sound, escaped from Carly's throat. She narrowed her eyes at me in a look of pure hatred before spinning around and storming off. I had to smother a laugh. Suddenly I felt a lot better.

  Shane led me to his car. He was parked at the end of the street in a dark cul-de-sac, next to a vacant block of land. The warning signs from Social and Emotional Learning class couldn't have been any more clichéd. It was kind of funny—so long as nothing happened, that is.

  Shane opened the door for me and I climbed up into the car. It was too dark to make out details properly but, like Jason, Shane had a big 4WD. I hoped he proved to be a better driver than Jason.

  'So what happened to you, tonight?' Shane asked as he started the engine.

  My brain raced, as I tried to think of a plausible explanation for my disappearance that did not involve me looking like a gullible, unpopular freak.

  'Oh …ummm … well … Georgia was having, like, a … umm … you know, a personal crisis, and she was in need of an immediate debrief, whic
h took, well, most of the night. That girl can talk! So, sorry I didn't get back to you, but, you know, a friend in need…' My babble petered out, lamely.

  I glanced at Shane. He raised his eyebrows, completely unconvinced.

  'Wow, I didn't realise you guys were so close,' he said sarcastically. 'It's kind of weird, Georgia seemed really happy when I saw her partying, two minutes after you left with her.'

  Darn! Caught out by Mr Detective. I laughed nervously, and muttered something about alcohol being a great problem solver for Georgia. I really needed to change the subject quickly.

  'So!' I said brightly, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. 'Brett tells me you're really great at rugby. What's the rest of your team like this year?'

  I flinched in the dark, waiting for Shane to reject my obvious subject change. Turns out I had underestimated the power of both bringing up sport and stroking Shane's ego, in one sentence. Shane launched into a virtual monologue about rugby and himself, and himself and rugby, and himself being great at rugby. Without much prodding from me, the conversation continued along this rather boring topic until, next thing I knew, Shane had pulled up outside my house.

  He killed the engine and turned to face me in the dark. His eyes glistened under the glow of the street lamp.

  'You're a really good listener, you know that,' he whispered.

  Then it happened. One second he was staring at me with his intense gaze, and the next second, before I had time to panic that my first kiss was about to occur, he leant in and our lips were pressing against each other's.

  I felt a jolt of exhilaration. It felt amazing. Without even realising what I was doing, I kissed him back. I couldn't believe this was happening. I had no idea what I was doing, I just hoped I was doing it right.

  I was so distracted by the kiss that I barely noticed Shane's touch on the back of my neck. That is, until his hand gently, but definitely deliberately, began to slide to the front of my top.

  The sensation caused me to jolt away from him and brought me swiftly back to the present. What was I doing? I hated Shane! I had a swift flashback of him pressing himself into me uninvited in the kitchen, and of him with his arm around Carly, just a few hours after asking me out. Why was I kissing this sleazebag? Brett had even warned me about him! And he'd just made a grab for my top three seconds into the first kiss!

  Flustered, I yanked open the door and jumped out.

  'Thanks for the lift! I've gotta go!' I slammed the door and scurried towards the house. I could hear the whirr of the electric windows winding down.

  'Fiona!' Shane called out in a low voice.

  I spun around to look at him. A triumphant smirk was plastered on his face.

  'That was amazing. We'll do it again soon, I promise.'

  With those parting words, he started the car and turned it into our driveway. It was then that I noticed something I hadn't seen in the dark of the cul-de-sac—something that I wished I'd noticed before.

  Shane was driving a dusty black Landcruiser with an all-too-familiar number plate—the same car that had been parked outside Chris' stepmother's house the night that I had spied on Alan.

  I felt sick.

  I had just shared my first kiss with the guy that was sleeping with the step-monster.

 

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