by S. Young
“Uh, what’s going on over there?” A.J. asked suddenly, looking worried.
“Nothing.” Staci avoided his gaze by turning to Nick. “So, Nick, you excited about playing college basketball?”
Just like that, the conversation switched to college talk and, for Ari, the temperature in the room abruptly dropped. A cold sweat erupted across her skin and she excused herself, hurrying into the kitchen, thrusting open the window above the sink and gulping in huge wafts of fresh air. She stood in perfect peace for a couple of minutes before she felt the heat of someone’s gaze on her back. Craning her neck around, she saw Nick standing in the doorway.
“You okay?” he asked.
She turned to face him as he walked farther into the room. He lifted a hand, placing his empty beer bottle down on the counter. He had large hands. They reminded her of the invisible ones that had rescued her today from near death, and another sheen of cold sweat broke out under her arms. “I’m fine,” she responded, clearing her throat as the last syllable came out a cracked whisper.
He smiled shyly, this crazy cute smile that should have made her knees weak but didn’t. “You know we’re only going to be a state away when we go to college. Maybe I could visit you sometime.”
Her heart fluttered in panic at the thought. “You’ll be way too busy to come visit me.”
Nick shook his head adamantly. “Not possible.”
Oh crap.
“I—”
“You looked beautiful at prom,” he interrupted. “I never got a chance to say it to you that night.”
Ari frowned. “Probably a good thing since you had a date, Nick.”
“She was just a friend.”
Oh, this conversation was going downhill fast.
“Ari! We need more chips!” Rachel shouted from the living room.
I love you, Rache. She shrugged, grabbing a bag of them off the counter. “Duty calls.” She brushed past him, hurrying from the conversation as if the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels rather than a cute guy with a crush on her.
For the rest of the day, Ari never made the mistake of being in a room unattended again. Nick gave her a hug when he left and she couldn’t stop herself from tensing in his arms. He noticed, shuffling back awkwardly and making her feel like the worst person alive. A.J. glared at her, the blow of that look softened by his girlfriend’s sympathetic smile and Rachel’s grimace that said, ‘when will that dude take the hint?’ She was never so thankful to be left alone in her empty home. Well… almost empty.
“Ms. Maggie,” she called out, leaning against the front door. “You got a poltergeist friend who’s corporeal but invisible?”
Knowing the poltergeist couldn’t answer only added to her frustration because she could not get what happened on that street out of her mind.
“Knock the phone off the side table if you have a poltergeist friend who can touch me.”
Nothing.
“Okay. Is there a poltergeist out there that can touch me who isn’t a friend?”
The phone clattered to the ground with a sickening thump. Ari’s stomach roiled, her heart racing hard and fast inside her chest. “Oh God,” she whispered. “Way to scare the crap out of me.”
The door reverberated against her back with three loud bangs, and Ari screamed in horrified surprise.
“Ari!” Charlie’s concerned voice shouted from outside.
“Holy shit!” she yelled, pulling the door open. “You scared the bejesus out of me!”
A frown wrinkled the skin between his brows, and his eyes washed over her, looking for injury. He shoved past her, glancing around the hallway. “You okay? What’s going on?”
She slumped, suddenly exhausted. It was too crazy to explain. He’d probably think she’d finally lost the plot. “I was just talking to Ms. Maggie. I wasn’t expecting anyone at the door.”
Charlie’s shoulders seemed to drop, relaxing as he shut the door. “I thought you were being murdered or something.”
“No. Ms. Maggie wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Yeah.” He curled his lip teasingly. “Thank God for Ms. Maggie.”
Now that her heart was returning to its normal rate, it suddenly occurred to her that Charlie was here. At her house. Of his own accord. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, heading toward the living room, eyeing the empty beer bottles and chip packets. “Thought maybe we could watch a movie.” When he turned back around, his dark eyes blazed, goading her to ask him why. There were two paths in front of her here. She could ask him and he’d start an argument and leave. Or she could just watch a damn movie with him. Simple answer.
“What do you want to watch?” she asked nonchalantly, walking over to her collection.
He seemed to let go a sigh of relief behind her, the couch groaning as he thumped himself down into it. “Action.”
“The Terminator?”
“Sounds good.”
Taking the classic movie her dad loved out of its case, Ari tried not to smile. The stone that had been in her stomach all day completely dissipated. Forcing herself to remain casual, she flopped down on the couch next to him.
They watched the movie in perfect silence, the heat of Charlie next to her so unbelievably relaxing Ari had to fight not to curl into him and fall asleep.
At the end, as the credits rolled, Charlie stood up. He looked down at her, his dark eyes enigmatic and so deep Ari could feel herself falling into them. “Ari?”
“Yeah?” she whispered, not wanting him to leave.
“If you don’t want to go to college, then don’t go. It’s a lot of money and you should know what you want to do with your life first. Talk to your dad, okay. Make him understand.”
She nodded, her heart hammering as she listened to his footsteps fade, the door opening and shutting behind him with a click that told her he’d put the lock on.
Before, when she’d thought Charlie wasn’t Charlie anymore, the pain had been awful.
Somehow, it was worse knowing Charlie was still in there behind this iron cast wall no one could get through. Today was just one of those lucky days when he slid back a little window to talk to her. But when her front door closed, she knew that window had closed with it.
Chapter 4
Solace is looking for you
It was divine providence. That’s what it was, Ari thought, looking down at the cell in her hands. Charlie’s cell. Clearly it had slipped from his pocket while he was watching the movie last night, all so Ari would have an excuse to see him today. She clutched it tightly in her hand, tempted to scroll through the numbers and see how many girls his contact list had accumulated over the last two years. But that would be wrong. She shook her head. She wasn’t that far gone yet. Smiling, Ari dropped the cell into her bag and set off outside, texting Rachel again to let her know she didn’t need a ride to school. Her stomach growled from lack of breakfast and Ari grimaced. The sacrifices she made for love.
Feeling lighter than she had in some time (and all because she’d clocked more Charlie time this week than she’d had in the last two months), Ari turned up the volume on her phone, letting her playlist sweep her through the suburban streets. Her neighborhood was quiet and neat. Immaculate. The houses were large and modest in appearance, with lush lawns and white fences and lots of space between each one. The street curved around in a huge bend until it split off in two directions. To the left, the town stretched out from the moderately well-off, to the rich, to the wealthy, to the even wealthier, and then to a couple of farms on the outskirts of town, like A.J.’s parents’ grain farm. As for the center of Sandford Ridge, it was literally that. The center. Stores, a mall, small businesses, a large car manufacturer factory… the usual. And best of all, The Smoothie Place on Main Street, Ari’s favorite place to chill out.
Ari took a right toward Charlie’s house and the school. The Creaghs lived three blocks over in a noisier neighborhood that seemed much more real to Ari. She’d loved hanging out there. Unlike
her street, where the only activity comprised people jogging by quietly alone or with their dogs, Charlie’s street was abuzz with the sounds of children’s laughter and shouts as they played in one another’s yards. Lawnmowers growled, dogs barked, music blared from car radios. It was like walking out of Stepford into Sandford. Charlie’s neighborhood was still considered the west side, as was their high school, but only four blocks over from the high school was all the low income housing and two well-kept trailer parks. Overall, Sandford Ridge wasn’t a terrible place to live. It just wasn’t great either.
Just as she was taking her first steps onto Charlie’s street, the smell of sandalwood and spices floated up her nose and Ari skidded to a halt. Her pulse throbbed in her neck. Sniffing the air to catch the scent again, her skin prickled as if someone was staring at her. Or standing right over her shoulder. Ari spun around. No one there. She sniffed again and couldn’t find the scent. Thoroughly freaked out at the reminder of the invisible hands that had rescued her, Ari curled her arms around her waist, and picked up her pace.
Jittery, Ari strode up onto Charlie’s porch. She blew out nervous air between her lips, glanced once more to make sure there was no one behind her, and rapped on the porch door. When there was no response, she rapped again, only harder this time.
Mrs. Creagh appeared. She shoved the screen door open so hard it almost whacked Ari on the nose. Charlie’s mom’s expression cleared at the sight of her, but Ari missed the huge smile she always bestowed on her when she came around. “Ari. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
Ari shrugged apologetically. “Yeah, I know. Things have been busy. I’m looking for Charlie. Is he still home?”
Mrs. Creagh snorted and stepped back. “You’ll be lucky. You can go on in and check his bedroom if you like. I’m late for work.” She grabbed her handbag and keys and scooted past her, patting her shoulder almost affectionately before she left. Ari stared after her, watching her walk to her car with slouched shoulders and angry lines around her eyes. The bubbly, mothering woman who would have known whether her son was safe and home in his bedroom every night and every morning was gone. She’d died two years ago, along with her youngest. Feeling anger at her loss and her subsequent treatment of the son she had left, Ari swallowed hard, trying to force the choking sensation in her throat away.
“Mrs. Creagh!” she called out before she could stop herself.
Charlie’s mom nearly dropped her keys, her head jerking up in confusion. “Yeah?”
“He’s not good,” Ari told her, her voice cracking on the words. “Charlie.” His mother gulped, her skin seeming to tighten even more across her cheeks, her lips trembling. Seeing the emotion, Ari took a step toward her. “He still needs you, Mrs. Creagh. The way he’s going… I’m afraid you might lose him too.”
Rearing back like Ari had slapped her, Mrs. Creagh’s face darkened. Ari waited for her to say anything, even if it was to tell her to mind her own business, but she jammed her keys in the car door before hauling ass into it. Feeling remorse, Ari turned and peered into the house. If Charlie was home, she hoped he hadn’t overheard that.
Pushing her shoulders back, she ambled into the house, amazed by how familiar and yet unfamiliar it was. Mrs. Creagh had always been this TV mother, always baking, so the house consistently smelled like mouthwatering heaven. She’d also hated clutter, and there was never a speck of dust anywhere. Now the walls were faded, darkened by cigarette smoke; there were photographs of Mike everywhere, frames cluttering furniture and the walls. Ari stopped at the doorway to the living room and felt her chest twist in pain. Mr. Creagh, about thirty pounds heavier than the last time she’d seen him, was lying on his recliner in front of a flickering TV screen, his eyes closed, his mouth open in loud snores. A half-empty bottle of scotch and a glass tumbler lay knocked over on the floor beside him. Unable to keep looking at the unrecognizable man, Ari squeezed her eyes shut and headed upstairs to Charlie’s room. She’d read about situations like this, seen them on TV, and thought they were so clichéd. But it wasn’t cliché. It was real. And devastating.
It was unending mourning.
Ari stopped at Charlie’s closed door, her hand grasping the cold metal door handle. She so hoped he was in there.
“Charlie?”
Silence.
“Charlie?”
Nothing. Taking a deep breath, she thrust the door open and strode inside, coming to an abrupt halt at what she found. The room was empty. Just… empty. All the posters that Charlie had pasted to his wall of the bands and movies and books he loved were gone, leaving cold, sterile steel blue walls. His furniture had been thrown out, his bed, his desk, his TV, his bookshelf. All that remained was a sleeping bag on the floor, his laptop, and a pile of books in the corner of the room. The bedroom smelled musty, and there was just the sweet hint of marijuana in the air.
This wasn’t grief. Ari shook her head, her jaw clenching with fury that his parents had let him strip his life to nothing. When someone dies, you mourn. After you mourn, you grieve. And days, months, years later, something small can happen, like a familiar toy soldier suddenly appearing where it shouldn’t, and you grieve all over again. But the mourning… the mourning should end. The Creaghs still mourned. Charlie still mourned.
Resisting the urge to throw a bucket of cold water over Mr. Creagh, Ari flew out of the house, trying to think of the people she knew Charlie regularly consorted with. There was only one house she could think of where there were no parents to worry that Charlie was there instead of at home.
Mel Rickman’s.
She shuddered at the thought, but she was determined to haul Charlie’s butt home. She pounded down the porch stairs and marched toward Manchester Drive. Everyone knew where Rickman lived and, for such a stupid guy, not once had the police been able to prove he was the one dealing. Ari winced. She guessed that said more about the Sandford Ridge Police Department than Rickman.
The porch screen had a huge tear in it, there were trash bags on the broken porch steps, the windows provided plenty of privacy with the sheer amount of filth accumulated on them and the mailbox was more of a stick stuck in the yard than a receptacle for mail. Ari felt sorry for the neighbors who must pass the house every day and wish they could just burn the eyesore to the ground. Feeling somewhat sick at having to be there, Ari had to take a minute. She was so going to kill Charlie for this.
No one answered when she knocked. Or rapped. Or called out. In the end, after Ari started banging the heck out of the front door, an unfamiliar guy with bloodshot eyes and a sickly pallor pulled it open. “Where’s the fire?” he groaned.
“Is Charlie here?”
“Who?”
“Charlie?” Ari snapped.
The guy took a moment, his narrowed eyes searching the ground for clues. Finally, he looked up and shrugged. “There’s a C-Man.”
Ugh, Ari sighed. C-Man. It made him sound like such an idiot. “His name is Charlie.” She brushed past the smelly, unwashed miscreant, pushing him aside.
“Hey, watch it, girl.”
She eyed the living room. There were five people passed out on the floors and furniture. Ari shivered as one of them came to, his bleary eyes all too familiar. Rickman. Desperate to get out of there before he became semi-functional, Ari turned back to the unwashed guy. “Where is Charlie?”
He pointed down the hall. “Back bedroom, but I wouldn’t go in there if I was you.”
Not caring what he would or wouldn’t do, Ari rushed down the hall to the door he’d pointed at, so determined to get out of Rickman’s house she didn’t think. She burst through the door and ignored the kick to her stomach at the sight of Charlie sprawled across the bed next to Vivien Meyer.
Well, at least he’s got his pants on, Ari thought, thanking God for small favors.
He jerked awake at the sound of her entrance. “W-what?”
Ari grabbed his T-shirt up off the floor and threw it at him. “Get up. Now.”
“Ari?” he mumbled, pullin
g the shirt off his face. His eyes widened and he sat up, swaying a little. He shot a look at Vivien next to him and then paled, glancing back up at Ari. “What are you doing here?”
She narrowed her eyes on his face and leaned closer. He reeked of tequila. “Are you wasted?”
He winced, clutching his head. “Ari, keep it down, Christ.”
“I’ll keep it down if you get up and get dressed and leave here with me.”
Charlie’s expression changed instantly at her demand. He glared up at her. “What the hell are you doing here, anyway, Ari? You shouldn’t be here. You’re not my mom. I’m a big boy.”
Fury shot through her. This wasn’t the boy she loved. The boy who had wanted them to take a year out before college to travel the world together before he headed back to the States to study architecture, hoping that Ari follow him. No… she didn’t know who this person was. But she sure as hell knew she would never get him through his brother’s death if she continued to let him wander down this path. “A big boy, huh? Well, act like it, you drunken moron!” she huffed and dug into her bag, pulling out his cell phone and throwing it at him. It smacked against his chest and she enjoyed the look of surprise on his face. “You left your cell at my place. I thought I’d return it. And now I’m getting you out of this dump. Come on,” she snapped, kicking one of his sneakers toward him.
He kicked it back at her. “Ari, quit it. My head is pounding. Just go to school.” He leaned back against his pillow, as if preparing to go back to sleep. Vivien hadn’t even moved, her light snores a soundtrack to their fight. “I’ll see you at your party tomorrow.”
“What’s all the noise?” Mel came up behind her and she sidestepped him, shivering at the feel of his breath on her neck. He reeked.
“Ari’s just leaving,” Charlie mumbled.
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“Then I guess you’re not leaving.”
Mel chuckled. “Sounds good to me.” He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. “We can have some fun, princess.”