***
I didn’t try to talk to Tracy’s sister, Beth, until we were leaving an NHS meeting. I had even less a reason to talk to her than Missy. Other than NHS, we didn’t orbit the same planets even though we were in the same class. Tracy was shadowing me again. I couldn’t imagine being her. Following her family around but unable to say anything to them.
I told Felicity I had to get something from my locker so I could follow Beth. I’d spent the entire meeting thinking of a reason to talk with her. She was vice-president and needed ideas for our end-of-the-year charity project. I couldn’t think of anything better than a project to honor Tracy. I was actually surprised she hadn’t already thought of it.
“Hey Beth?” I sounded like a moron.
“Yeah?” Her voice was flat, and dark circles were permanently etched under her eyes. She’d stopped wearing so much make-up, and her skin was shades lighter than it normally was, due to not visiting the tanning bed. Her blonde highlights were dull and needed touching up. She looked like a mess and it broke my heart.
Beth leaned against a locker, as if she was too exhausted to stand anymore. “I think I’ve got an idea for the project, but I wanted to ask you about it.” Tracy had already given the go-ahead to this plan. It was easy to see they were related, even though Beth was taller and more athletic than Tracy. They shared the same blonde hair and had the same mouth. It was much easier to see when Tracy stood next to Beth.
“I think we should do something, you know, to honor your sister. We could raise money for a scholarship fund in her name, and we could start and organization for teens and parents so that the kids could call for a ride, no questions asked. What do you think?” She’d been silent as I talked, her face blank. But now she looked like she was going to cry. And then her eyes narrowed. Uh oh.
She crossed her arms. “Why do you care? You didn’t even know her.”
I took a step back. “I know, but it’s just so sad what happened and I think something should be done so this doesn’t happen again.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She slammed her fist against a locker and ran to the girl’s bathroom. Crap.
Tracy rolled her eyes. I knew she was going to act like that.
Luckily the hallway was empty. “Then why did you tell me to do it?”
We had to start somewhere. Go after her.
I started walking toward the bathroom. “What should I say?”
I’ll tell you.
“Beth?” I tapped on the bathroom door. I could hear her sobbing. I cracked the door open, making sure we were alone. Phew.
“Go away.” Her voice was clogged with tears.
Tell her that you talk to me.
“What?” I said aloud to Tracy.
“I said, go away.” She banged on the stall wall to make her point.
Tell her that I’m here. That I can hear her.
I took a breath before I said it. I hoped this ended well. “Tracy’s here, Beth. She’s with me right now. She can hear you.” I took a few steps closer to the stall until I was right outside the door. Tracy hopped up on the sink.
Tell her that I don’t blame her for leaving me to make out with Travis Bigellow.
I said it without thinking. “She doesn’t blame you for leaving her to make out with Travis Bigellow.” There was silence behind the stall door.
Tell her that I miss her pancakes. And singing karaoke in the car. Thanks for feeding Oreo.
“She misses your pancakes and singing karaoke in the car and thanks for feeding Oreo.”
There was a gasp. “How could you know that?” Beth opened the door, looking at me through the tears that dripped down her face.
“Tracy told me. She’s sitting right here on the sink.” Swinging her legs and humming to herself.
Tell her I like her new red dress and it doesn’t make her butt look big.
“She says to tell you she likes the red dress and it doesn’t make your butt look big.” I thought Beth was going to slap me, but she laughed instead.
“That sounds like Tracy.” She stared at the sink, but stayed back. “Is she really here? Is she haunting you?”
“It’s more like she’s following me around. If you put out your right hand, you’ll touch her foot.” Beth slowly raised her right hand and walked forward.
That’s my knee.
“A little higher.” I took Beth’s hand and pulled it up. Tracy put out her own hand, and then they were touching. The room was so quiet. I prayed no one would walk in on this moment.
“I can almost feel her,” Beth whispered. “Is she a ghost?”
I can feel you. And we prefer the term spirit. Or departed.
“She says she can feel you. They prefer spirit, by the way. Ghost sounds too creepy and morbid.” Tears started to run down Beth’s face again as she stood with her hand outstretched. Tracy started to laugh, and if she could have cried, I think she would.
“I miss you,” Beth whispered.
I miss you, too Bethy.
I was a necessary intruder, but I wished I wasn’t.
“Why do you believe me? You don’t even know me,” I said.
“I’ve felt her around. I knew she was with us. Just because I can’t see her or hear her, doesn’t mean I don’t know she’s here. You have no idea how lucky you are.” I had never, for one moment, considered myself lucky.
“It doesn’t always feel that way. But thanks for believing me and not running away and thinking I’m insane.” I laughed a little.
“Sure thing.”
Tracy was smug. I told you I knew what I was doing.
“I know, I know.”
Beth looked at the space where Tracy was. “Are you talking to her?”
“She’s telling me that she knew you would believe me.”
“Tracy is always right, even when she’s wrong. She knows how to convince you otherwise,” Beth said, laughing. My ears caught the fact that she had used the present tense.
Tell her why I’m here.
“She wants me to tell you there’s a reason she’s still here. That she hasn’t moved on. She wants to make sure that you, Missy and the rest of your family are okay, that you’ve moved on with your lives and don’t blame yourselves for what happened.” Beth fell forward against the sink and crumpled to the floor.
“But it is my fault. If I hadn’t been so stupid and so selfish. God, if I hadn’t gotten so wasted, she’d still be here.”
That’s not true.
“She said that’s not true.”
“Don’t tell me what I know. I just wish that I had died, too.”
Don’t say that. I don’t want that. Bethy, I want you to live because I can’t.
“Don’t say that, she doesn’t want that, Bethy, she wants you to live because she can’t.”
“It’s too hard.” She sobbed, great gasps that sounded like they were going to tear her chest apart. I crouched down beside her and put my hand on her shoulder.
“I know. But the hardest things to do in life are sometimes the most important. She needs you to be the strong one, the one who keeps everything together.” Tracy had been hissing the words in my head and I said them fast. Beth raised her head.
“Will you help me?”
“Of course, that’s what I’m here for.” For the first time ever, I felt like I had been given the ability to speak to the dead for a purpose and I was going to use it.
End of this sample
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA writer from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world’s worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting. She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the peopl
e in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.
Visit her online at
www.leftandwrite7.blogspot.com
twitter.com/chel_c_cam
Beautiful Dangerous Love- Teen Sampler Page 57