Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1: Julie
Chapter 2: Luke
Chapter 3: Julie
Chapter 4: Luke
Chapter 5: Alex
Chapter 6: Julie
Chapter 7: Julie
Chapter 8: Luke
Chapter 9: Reggie
Chapter 10: Flynn
Chapter 11: Luke
Chapter 12: Alex
Chapter 13: Julie
Chapter 14: Reggie
Chapter 15: Julie
Chapter 16: Luke
Chapter 17: Bobby
Chapter 18: Julie
Chapter 19: Flynn
Chapter 20: Luke
Chapter 21: Julie
Chapter 22: Flynn
Chapter 23: Julie
About the Author
Copyright
Luke, Reggie, and Alex were always real to me, even when I was the only one who could see them. And when I discovered they were visible to other living people when we played music together, that felt real, too—better than real. When Reggie plucked his bass strings, Alex wailed on the drums, and Luke strummed his guitar as he sang along with me and my piano—it felt like a dream come true to play with my phantoms, to bring our music to life.
But come on, they’re ghosts—or musician spirits, to use Alex’s preferred term. Even though they felt real, they were still just made of air. They always faded away at the end of a song, and I expected nothing less tonight.
But tonight was different.
My eyes snapped open as I pulled away from my hug with Luke. I gripped his hands, feeling his skin push back. “How can I feel you?”
“I—I don’t know.” He scrunched up his face, shaking his head.
I grabbed his face between both hands, my eyes growing wider when my hands didn’t slide right through his ghostly form. Luke was very much solid. He felt real to me—literally.
This can’t be happening.
Playing our show at the famous Orpheum Theater in Hollywood was supposed to be Luke, Reggie, and Alex’s unfinished business—their second chance at the show they never got to play before they died. And it was their best bet at crossing over before Caleb Covington’s curse zapped them into nothing—or into an eternity of being forced to play in the Hollywood Ghost Club’s house band. So why were the guys still here instead of over on the other side, wherever that was?
I rubbed my forehead, wondering if I was still riding the high of our performance tonight. We’d killed it at the Orpheum. Our chemistry was electric, and it had radiated toward the crowd like the rays of the sun. Everywhere our music touched, it brightened the crowd’s faces. And right now Luke’s face was glowing, with the pulse of life. Had our beats been so powerful that they resurrected him from the dead?
Don’t be ridiculous, Jules. You can’t just bring someone back from the dead!
But stranger things had happened lately.
“I feel stronger.” Luke gripped my hands tighter, and a tear slipped down his cheek.
“Alex, Reggie, come,” I said over his shoulder, where our bandmates looked on in disbelief. I waved them over to where we were standing. I wanted to see if they were solid, too. If whatever was happening to Luke—whatever I was doing?—would happen to them.
They rushed across the garage studio with their arms open, smashing into us in a giant group hug. When we pulled away from each other, the purple stamps on their wrists detached and floated above our heads, disappearing into thin air.
“What do you think that means?” I asked, my eyebrows knitting together. I hoped it was the last we’d see of Caleb and his Hollywood Ghost Club.
“I think the band’s back.” Luke’s eyes glowed with hope.
“Can we try that hug thing again?” Alex asked, pulling us into another group hug with his long, gangly arms.
I pawed Reggie’s tuxedo, feeling the silkiness beneath my fingers. Then I pinched Alex’s arm to confirm he was solid, too.
“Ouch!” He frowned for a second, but his scowl quickly perked into a smile. He laughed, like he welcomed the pain. “I felt that. Ow!”
“Just double-checking.” I chuckled into our group hug. I was about to do the same thing to Reggie, but he wriggled free.
“Well, I think this means it’s time to eat.” He patted his stomach, his eyes bright. “Do you think that burger place on Sunset Boulevard is still open?”
I stared at him, unable to blink. I could not believe Reggie’s first thought was about fast food. How could he think about burgers at a time like this?
“What? I haven’t eaten real, non-ghost food in twenty-five years. I’m starving.” He slicked his dark hair away from his forehead. “Who’s with me?” Then he balled his hands into fists and squeezed his eyes shut.
“Wait,” Alex said, holding a hand up.
Reggie pried one eye open, clearly annoyed with the delay.
“Aren’t we going to talk about this crazy awesome thing that’s happening to us?” Alex reached out and poked my arm, feeling solid flesh. “I mean, is Julie the only one we can touch, or are we solid to everyone? And if we’re solid right now, does that mean other people can see us, too?”
“Any theories?” I crossed my arms, searching Luke’s face. I knew he probably didn’t have all the answers, but a girl could hope.
“I don’t know.” He shook his head.
“May I suggest we find out at the burger place?” Reggie raised his eyebrows.
Alex dismissed him with a grumble. “You still might not be able to eat.”
Then he paused. “Wait—Willie. Can he still see me? Is he even okay after everything that happened with Caleb tonight?” Alex’s face grew worried as he thought about his crush. From what he’d told me, Willie was a seriously cute skateboarder ghost who could skate wherever he wanted now that he was dead. He and Alex had their own unfinished business to take care of, but it was unclear if that could be resolved right now. If Alex was solid to me, maybe he wouldn’t be to other ghosts like Willie. The guys were definitely in a weird gray area at the moment.
But my phantoms had never really played by the rules. They were special.
“Dude, we can go look for him if you want.” Reggie said, softening his stance. He may have been eager to test the limits of their current solidness, but that didn’t take precedence over Alex’s more pressing concerns.
“Uh, thanks, Reggie.” Alex looked touched as he nudged Reggie’s arm. He couldn’t hide the blush pooling under his cheeks, and Alex divined exactly what was still on his mind. “Yes, fine. And then we can go try to eat burgers.”
“If you insist,” he said, his eyes bright. Reggie turned to me and Luke. “You guys want to come out with us?”
“I think—” Luke looked at me, raising his eyebrow. It was a question, asking if I wanted to stay or go.
Part of me wanted to stay with my bandmates and celebrate all night. We’d played the Orpheum, ditched Caleb, and the guys and I could hug—at least for now. I was torn between hanging with the group and spending some alone time with Luke. But one look at Luke’s intense gaze was all it took. I definitely wanted to stay.
“I think we’re good here,” I said, feeling a blush creep across my face.
“Uh-huh.” Reggie smirked at me before elbowing Alex in the side. “You ready to go?”
Alex hesitated and exhaled in a rush, and Reggie rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Alex. You’re not scared, are you? Poofing is like second nature.”
“Well, yeah, but that was before Julie could touch us.” He reached his arm out and poked my elbow with his pinkie, then shook his head. “See? What if we can’t poof anymore?”
“Let’s find out,” Reggie said with a grin. T
hen he instantly poofed out of the room.
“Okay.” Alex held his chest, relief relaxing his facial features. He gave us a little wave and wiggled his eyebrows. “See you two later.”
And with a poof, he was gone.
I blinked rapidly, my breath hitching as Alex and Reggie disappeared before my eyes. It was nothing new to me—I’d seen them poof away dozens of times before. But it also was new, because now they were solid. Or, at least, I could touch them.
What did this mean for the rest of their ghostly abilities?
I had so many questions about the guys’ current solid state, but one look at Luke and my mind went blank. Poof—my questions vanished, just like Alex and Reggie had.
A weird stillness fell over the studio, and I could only hear Luke’s shuffling feet mixed with my own nervous heartbeat. We’d been alone together countless times, staying up late writing songs and talking. But for some reason, right now, I was nervous to be so close to him.
“So.” I tucked a bundle of curls behind my ear and stepped toward my mom’s old piano, putting space between me and the crackling energy buzzing around Luke.
“So,” he said with a cautious grin.
I’d had crushes before, but none as strong as the one I had on Luke. And right now, as my heart hammered against my chest, my feelings for him had reached new depths. I’d never felt like this before. Never.
Flynn liked to tease me that I had it bad for a ghost, and she was one hundred percent right. The whole “being dead” thing aside, Luke was kinda my dream guy, and right now he was staring at me with a mix of wonder and awe. By some stroke of luck, I think Luke liked me, too.
His gazed locked with mine, and for a second I thought he might say something more, but his eyelashes fluttered and he looked away.
Omigod, I can’t!
My stomach churned, a swarm of a gazillion butterflies. When I looked up, Luke had stepped closer. He laid a hand on the piano, close to mine.
“You were incredible tonight,” I said, my voice a little shaky.
“Are you kidding me? You crushed it.” He hiked up one white sneaker on the piano bench and ran his fingers across the ivory keys, smiling at every solid touch. “You literally hopped across the stage when you saw me poof in and start playing.”
A small laugh escaped my lips as I remembered the excitement I’d felt when Luke finally appeared onstage. He’d flickered in and out, and I wasn’t sure he’d make it. But he’d stood tall at the microphone, as if he were willing himself to stay here, with us. With me.
“I didn’t know what had happened to you guys,” I said, my voice lowering to little more than a whisper. “When you didn’t show up for the pre-show, I figured you’d moved on—or just stopped existing.”
After my dad drove me to the Orpheum and dropped me off backstage (he had VIP credentials and absolutely loved his ability to roam the place freely), Flynn and I had waited almost an hour for the guys to show up. Alex, Reggie, and Luke never appeared backstage, and I’d been sure they had disappeared for good.
“I almost left,” I said in a smaller voice.
I remembered running out of the venue’s side door, ready to never look back. Crying into the dark and dingy alley, I’d called out to my mom—for help or comfort, anything. And then, out of nowhere, a woman had walked by with a bouquet of red dahlias and given me one. It was my mom’s favorite flower. It was obviously a sign from her, right?
It had to be.
“I’m glad you stayed. We were stuck with Caleb. He forced us to join his band onstage, and we literally couldn’t stop playing our instruments. He had some sort of weird, freaky hold on us.” Luke shook his head. “It took every ounce of my energy to get to the Orpheum.”
“The important thing is that you did come back. Even if it wasn’t your unfinished business, you couldn’t miss out on playing there again.”
“That’s not why I came back, and you know it.” Luke breathed deeply before sliding his hand across the piano’s surface.
Our fingers grazed, and even though the contact was brief, I felt a jolt of energy rush through me. My heart raced against my chest.
“You felt that, too, right?” Luke asked with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. And I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the jolt of electricity that pricked my fingers or the general awesomeness of the night.
“Um, yeah,” I responded to both of those possibilities. I collapsed onto a pile of throw pillows on the floor, my legs too wobbly to support me any longer. “There aren’t many perfect days like today.”
“Yeah, there’s only one other time I remember feeling like this—when I was at an all-time high, buzzing about the future and whatever came next,” he said, joining me on the floor. He sat cross-legged, just out of reach.
“Me too,” I said, nodding slowly, thinking about the last truly perfect day I’d had. I laid my head against a pillow, looking up at the ceiling where my mom and I had hung old chairs, giving them a second life. Of course, that was right before I found out she was sick—bittersweet, but still perfect. “I still remember it like yesterday.”
“Tell me about it,” Luke said with a playful grin.
“I will,” I said, returning his smile. “But you go first.”
I’d like to tell you that I’m Mr. Responsible—that the night before the biggest show of my life I’d be tucked in bed, getting a good night’s sleep before I hit the stage. But the night before our show at the Orpheum also happened to be the night of the Foo Fighters concert, a gnarly new band started by the drummer of Nirvana. I’d worked double shifts at the diner to afford tickets for me and the boys. My feet were still throbbing from all that time spent leaning over the bussing station.
Not that I was complaining or anything—I was happy to have my part-time gig at the diner. It allowed me enough time for school and official band business, and the owner of the place was generous enough to give me extra hours when I needed the cash, which, since I’d run away, was more often than not. Food and guitar strings weren’t cheap—and neither were concert tickets. Needless to say, this show was a splurge.
But there was no way we’d miss this.
By the end of the show, the Palace Theatre was still packed—and I mean packed. The buzz from the crowd flooded my ears. You could almost feel the energy around us. I couldn’t wait for one of Sunset Curve’s shows to feel like this. And I wouldn’t have to wait long. Our showcase at the Orpheum was less than twenty-four hours away.
The guitar blared through the venue, hitting our ears before the rest of the crowd’s—because, of course, Alex, Reggie, Bobby, and I had wiggled our way to the front. The drumbeat hammered with the rhythm of my own heart. I bobbed my head from side to side as the music transported me—right up to the metal gate dividing the audience from the stage. I rocked the divider along with the music, drawing the attention of the nearby security guard.
“What did I tell you about rattling this?” He gripped the railing, his arm muscles bulging as he stilled it.
“All right, all right,” I said, holding my hands up in surrender.
“Cool it, Luke.” Reggie nudged me with his elbow. “Or next time he’s gonna kick you out.”
“I mean, would that be so bad? It’s already the third encore,” Alex said with a yawn. “Maybe it’s time for us to head home anyway.”
Bobby tugged on my sleeve, thrusting his Casio watch in my face.
“Let’s roll!” he yelled over the applause. “We wanna beat the rush to the exits.”
“Come on, guys,” I protested, turning my attention back to the stage. When I saw Dave Grohl up there, I saw myself. I got my best moves from big shows, so I wanted to soak up as much as I could. Was it a good idea to stay up half the night on the eve of your breakout concert? Ehhh—maybe not. But it was totally worth it. To feel the energy of a large crowd, to know that that would be me onstage in less than twenty-four hours. Everything fell into place, and I felt like I’d already made it.
Well—almost ma
de it. I just had to get some decent sleep. My stomach grumbled. Okay, maybe some street food and then a decent night’s sleep.
“Fine.” I pushed my bandmates into the aisle and pointed toward the side exit. My stomach grumbled again when we hit the pavement outside. “Boys, who’s up for a quick bite?” I asked.
“I’m starving,” Reggie said. He clapped his hands as he spun around, walking backward so that he could face us. Reggie took his meals very seriously, which was why he ate about seven times a day.
“You’re always hungry,” Bobby said with an eye roll. It earned him one of Reggie’s playful punches to the shoulder.
We rounded the corner, and that’s when I saw her car—the 1977 Volvo station wagon, its turquoise coloring barely visible under the dim streetlights. I drew in a sharp breath, then shrank back behind the alley wall. Reggie scrunched his face up, looking to Alex in confusion. But Bobby stepped forward, meeting me in my makeshift hiding spot.
“You’re looking at the Volvo over there, aren’t you?” He flicked his head toward the street.
I nodded, poking my head out to catch another glimpse of my family’s car. Well, at least it looked like our car. Bobby nodded slowly, understanding where my anxiety was coming from.
“That’s not her, dude.” He patted my shoulder, gripping it reassuringly.
“Who are we talking about?” Reggie asked, a little slow on the uptake.
“Luke’s mom, obviously.” Alex bopped Reggie on the backside of his head.
Bobby swallowed hard and turned back to Luke. “Just think about it—why would she be all the way out here at”—he held his watch up to his sleepy eyes—“almost one in the morning?”
The rational side of me knew he was right. My mom didn’t leave the house after 8:00 p.m., let alone wander around on this side of the 101 freeway, so far from home. But every time I saw a station wagon that looked remotely like hers I freaked.
I couldn’t help it.
Because deep down I wasn’t happy with the way we’d left things—the way I’d screamed at her as I packed my bags, the way she looked at me, her face tear-stained and splotchy, the way I’d slammed the door after telling her that I never ever wanted to see her face again. I wished I could rewind and handle it differently. My mom and I had unfinished business.
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