Crazy Ex-Ghoulfriend

by Angela Roquet

  Crazy Ex-Ghoulfriend

  Copyright © 2013 by Angela Roquet

  All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the publisher. Although every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume no responsibility for errors or omissions. Neither is any liability assumed for damages resulting from the use of the information contained herein.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Book cover design by Fiona Jayde Media

  www.fionajaydemedia.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also by Angela Roquet

  For the twins...

  Condolences | Chapter 1

  Apologies | Chapter 2

  Secrets | Chapter 3

  Hints | Chapter 4

  Setbacks | Chapter 5

  Distractions | Chapter 6

  Sparks | Chapter 7

  Wishes | Chapter 8

  Nightmares | Chapter 9

  Lies | Chapter 10

  Transformations | Chapter 11

  Breakthroughs | Chapter 12

  Changes | Chapter 13

  Rumors | Chapter 14

  Fallouts | Chapter 15

  Doubts | Chapter 16

  Regrets | Chapter 17

  Confessions | Chapter 18

  Complications | Chapter 19

  Favors | Chapter 20

  Surprises | Chapter 21

  Chances | Chapter 22

  Goodbyes | Chapter 23

  Reflections | Chapter 24

  Acknowledgements

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sign up for Angela Roquet's Mailing List

  Also By Angela Roquet

  Also by Angela Roquet

  Blood Vice

  Blood Vice

  Blood and Thunder

  Blood in the Water

  Blood Dolls

  Thicker Than Blood (May 2018)

  Spero Heights

  Blood Moon

  Death at First Sight

  The Midnight District (March 2018)

  Lana Harvey, Reapers Inc.

  Graveyard Shift

  Pocket Full of Posies

  For the Birds

  Psychopomp

  Death Wish

  Ghost Market

  Hellfire and Brimstone

  Limbo City Lights (short story collection)

  The Illustrated Guide to Limbo City

  other titles

  Crazy Ex-Ghoulfriend

  Backwoods Armageddon

  For the twins...

  My sister, Justina, who was

  my first reader, my first editor,

  and my first best friend.

  And my brother, Jonathan, who

  was my first arch nemesis, my first

  partner in crime, and the first guy

  I knew I could always count on.

  Thanks for being there for me

  all these years. I love you both.

  Condolences

  Chapter 1

  I hate hospitals. I hate the white walls, the smell of antiseptic, the buzz and hum and beep-beep-beep of all those machines that are the only signs of life coming from most rooms. At least, most rooms on the floor I was on.

  Wayne looked impossibly small on the raised hospital bed. There were tubes coming out of his nose and mouth. The caramel curls above his left eye and temple had been shaved back so that the doctors could stitch his head together where it had smashed through the windshield of Matilda’s Camaro. His left eye was swollen shut, and his right forearm was in a neon green cast.

  Soft sobs filtered in from the hallway. Joyce Russell, Wayne’s mother, buried her face against my mom’s shoulder.

  “Janie, why don’t you sit with Wayne while your father and I talk to his parents?” my mom whispered, gently shutting the door to Wayne’s room to allow his mother some privacy while she had her meltdown.

  I inched my way over to the only chair in the room, a stiff gray recliner seated along the side of Wayne’s broken face. A good friend would have taken his hand and whispered comforting and encouraging things that might rouse him from his coma. But I wasn’t a good friend. I was the worst friend ever.

  I had left him at a party with his drunken girlfriend, knowing that she was his ride home. I had come home and walked right past my parents, watching Jeopardy in the living room, and I hadn’t said a word. It didn’t matter that I had told Wayne I wouldn’t rat him out. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t drunk anything and left the party as soon as I realized there was alcohol. That wasn’t enough. I knew that now, staring at Wayne’s mutilated face.

  More sobs came from the hallway. I glanced through the slatted blinds that spanned the wide display window along the interior wall of Wayne’s room. Matilda’s parents had joined mine and Wayne’s. Their voices were muffled, but I heard Matilda’s mother clearly above the others. “She’s gone. My little girl is gone forever.”

  I stumbled from the chair and into the bathroom attached to the hospital room. The tile floor was cold against my knees as I puked my guts out in the toilet, clinging to the handicapped railing to keep from falling in face first.

  I couldn’t count the number of times I had wished Matilda dead. She was vain and cruel, and she had everything, including Wayne. Be careful what you wish for, said the nagging little voice in the back of my mind that had reprimanded my every sour thought for as long as I could remember. The voice was a cross between my mother and my perky-as-Prozac second grade teacher who had been full of similarly wise one-liners.

  During algebra class, where I regularly fantasized about Matilda’s demise, her death was usually achieved by splashing her with a bucket of water or dropping a house on her. Everyone would cheer and sing, and then Wayne and I would ride off into the sunset together on the back of a unicorn, naturally. It certainly didn’t happen via drunk driving, and it never involved Wayne getting hurt or ending up in a coma. This was all wrong.

  A sick, twisted part of me was still happy that Matilda was gone, and as soon as I recognized it, I was heaving up bile in the hospital toilet again.

  “Janie?” Everyone had been drawn back into Wayne’s room by the sounds of my retching. My mom slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. “Oh, honey.” She grabbed a handful of paper towels and wet them at the sink before kneeling down beside me.

  My dry heaving subsided as she wiped my face clean. When she finished, I stood and rinsed my mouth in the sink. My mom washed her hands, pausing to dab at the streaked mascara under her eyes. Her soft, orange curls were in a perfect halo, and I vaguely wondered how she managed to look so put together, even at four in the morning on a Saturday. I frowned at my washed out reflection next to hers. I looked like road kill. My braid was coming undone, and my tee shirt was wrinkled, since I hadn’t bothered to change into a fresh one when we got the call.

  My mom finished messing with her makeup and tried to smile at me. “Wayne’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

  I nodded slowly, too afraid to open my mouth. She still thought I had been studying late at Chloe’s house the night before. I had made it home long before curfew, thanks to the humiliating sendoff Matilda had given me at the party in her drunken stupor. It was anyone’s guess when my parents would find out that I was at the party, but they would find out. Wayne’s dad was a police officer, and he would see to it that every single person was accounted for.

  For a second, I hoped that
I might be able to convince Officer Russell that I hadn’t known there was alcohol at the party, but Matilda’s little outburst had been heard by everyone there.

  “What’s the big deal, Janie? Afraid you might get drunk and say something stupider than usual?” she had shouted at me as I stormed off.

  Wayne had followed me to my car. “You can stay if you want, Janie. You don’t have to drink to have a good time,” he had said.

  There were a million reasons why I couldn’t stay at that party. If the cops showed up, there was a chance I could lose my scholarship. If I had to watch him and Matilda suck face all night, I would have to dig my eyeballs out with a spoon. The reason at the top of my list though had been as simple as being a coward and unable to handle anymore humiliating quips from Matilda the Hun.

  I assured Wayne that I was just tired and promised that I wouldn’t tell his parents, after he gave me the same pleading look that I remembered from when we were six and he snuck into my backyard with the last of his mother’s homemade brownies. It had been nicer when it was just the two of us savoring the spoils of his mischief.

  If I had known that he was going to get himself all banged up and comafied, I would have begged him to leave with me. I would have made an anonymous call to his dad. I would have done something differently.

  My mom put her hand on the bathroom door and paused, sparing me another gentle smile. “Ready?”

  Wayne’s room was empty again, except for a nurse, busy checking his vitals. I stopped to steal another glance at him, memorizing every scrape and bruise so that I could recall them later after the shock wore off and I was alone with my guilt.

  My mom rubbed a hand over my back. “We’ll come see him again tomorrow,” she said, directing me towards the door.

  Matilda’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Hunt, were still in the hallway talking to Wayne’s parents. I only recognized them from the commercials they did for their Hubbard Lake resort. Mrs. Hunt noticed me and grabbed my hand as I walked by. “Were you a friend of Mattie’s?”

  “Uh, I, I...” My heart froze in my chest, refusing to lay another lie on top of the one I was already regretting.

  “She grew up with Wayne. We live next door to the Russell family,” my mother interjected, much to my relief.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I added quietly. It wasn’t really a lie. I was sorry she was hurting. I was sorry her little girl was gone forever. I wasn’t sorry that Matilda happened to be that girl.

  My lack of guilt for Matilda’s death spawned some vicious hybrid form of guilt that had a direct link to my stomach, and I felt it churn again. I swallowed down the bile in my throat and took my hand back from Mrs. Hunt.

  “Susan,” Officer Russell pulled her attention back to the conversation they had been having before I distracted her. “Why don’t you and Ned go home and get some rest. We can go over the rest of the insurance paperwork tomorrow.”

  My mom gave Mrs. Russell a hug goodbye, and we went down to the lobby where my dad waited, holding three paper cups of coffee. He handed one to each of us. It was the first time he had ever offered me coffee. I had a feeling that the crappy brand the hospital gave away would turn me off of the stuff forever, but I drank it down anyway, letting it scald my tongue and throat.

  “We better get on home,” my mom sighed. “I need to bake a few casseroles to take over to the Russells and the Hunts later.”

  Like a casserole was going to fix anything. According to my mom though, the first thing people forgot when there was a disaster was food. She said that’s why there was so much of it at wakes.

  Just the thought of food made my stomach grumble again. The stale hospital coffee swirled around in my gut violently, but I finished it off anyway, wishing I had something stronger.

  Apologies

  Chapter 2

  I skipped church Sunday morning and went to the hospital by myself to see Wayne. Mrs. Russell had called late Saturday evening to let us know that he had awakened from his coma. I hadn’t slept all night, and I figured there would be enough people thanking God in church today that they could thank him for me too. I also didn’t want to vomit in public, once they started preaching about the loss of sweet, young Matilda Hunt.

  Wayne was sitting up in bed, doing his best to shovel orange Jello in his mouth left-handed. I stood in the doorway and watched him for a few minutes before he noticed me and jumped.

  “Janie,” he sighed, letting a sticky orange glob dribbled down his chin. What was left of his hair was a tangled mess. The stitches that trailed down the left side of his head and along the top of his eyebrow were an angry red. Every bruise looked ten times worse than it had early Saturday morning.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and went over to sit next to him. I took the spoon and scooped up a heap of Jello, lifting it to his mouth. Wayne frowned, but he let me feed him. When the bowl was finally empty, we were both fighting to hold back tears.

  “Wayne, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have left the party. I should have stayed and given you a ride home.”

  “This isn’t your fault.” He shook his head, and then groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He was awake, but his head still wasn’t quite right. “I knew better. I shouldn’t have let Matilda drive. She just kept saying that she was fine.” He sniffled and rubbed his nose against the sleeve of his hospital gown. “Everything’s ruined now. I’ll probably lose my football scholarship. My parents are going to ground me for life. Matilda’s gone.” He blinked back tears and turned away from me.

  “Wayne.” I laid my hand over his. “I’m sure your dad can pull some strings. You won’t lose your scholarship. I’ll copy all my class notes for you until you’re back on your feet.”

  “Janie, my dad is a lot stauncher than you realize. The first thing he asked me when I woke up was where the party was held. He wanted to go gather evidence. He wanted to know who all was there. He wanted to know who supplied the alcohol.”

  “Wow.” I raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

  “That I didn’t remember a damn thing.” He pointed to his head injury and rolled his good eye.

  I tucked my hands into the pouch of my hoodie and sighed. “I didn’t tell anyone that I was at the party.”

  “Really?” Wayne whispered. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, seriously,” I said. “I told you I wouldn’t tell, and I didn’t. And then everything happened so fast, and I was in shock. I mean, I’m sure your dad will figure it out eventually. I just haven’t had the guts to approach him yet. God, I don’t even know what I’d say to him.”

  “Don’t say anything. If he finds out, just tell him you didn’t know we were drinking. You weren’t there long, and you left early. Who knows, he might make it through this entire investigation without anyone even mentioning your name.”

  The nurse came in to check Wayne’s vitals, giving us a suspicious look when we fell silent. We waited for her to leave, but as soon as she did, Wayne’s parents arrived.

  Mrs. Russell gave my shoulders a squeeze. “Hi, Janie. We missed you at church this morning. Tell your mom thank you again for the breakfast casserole. It was great.”

  “Sure.” I nodded to her and gave Officer Russell a tight smile before turning back to Wayne. “I’ll drop off your makeup work and notes after school tomorrow.”

  “Thanks.” Wayne returned my smile with a strained one of his own. His dad’s grim aura made everyone want to hold their breath.

  I hurried out of the room, but I wasn’t fast enough. Officer Russell caught up with me at the elevators. “Janie, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

  My shoulders cramped into a tight square, but I nodded.

  “Were you friends with Matilda Hunt?”

  “Not exactly. We were from different crowds.”

  “So you wouldn’t know who all she hung around with?”

  “Sorry. I just knew her as Wayne’s girlfriend. She didn’t like that Wayne and I were friends.”

  Officer Russell snor
ted. “Yeah, I noticed that we stopped seeing you around so much once they started dating at the beginning of the school year. We also noticed that Wayne’s grades started failing about that time too. I know it’s not nice to speak ill of the dead, but that girl was bad news.”

  “Wayne’s grades are failing?” That was a surprise.

  “If he doesn’t pull it together before Christmas break, he’s going to fail algebra and history.”

  “I’ll get him caught up,” I said, trying to muster another smile.

  “Thanks, Janie. You were always a good friend to him.” Officer Russell patted my shoulder just as the elevator doors opened.

  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I all but ran through the parking garage on the way back to my mom’s car. My hands were shaking so bad that it took several tries before I could get the key into the ignition. I waited until my breathing slowed before putting on my seatbelt and pulling out into traffic. There had been enough accidents in the paper lately. Besides, mine wouldn’t make the front page like Matilda’s had.

  Secrets

  Chapter 3

  “Is that all you’re eating?” My mom frowned and tugged at one of her pearl earrings. She was still in her church clothes, since she had been too eager to get back to her casserole baking to change.

  I shrugged at the small heap of mashed potatoes on my dinner plate. I hadn’t eaten much since my vomiting spell at the hospital. I wasn’t sure if it had more to do with the fact that I’d become a nervous wreck, fretting over whether or not Officer Russell would find out that I had been at the party, or if it was the hybrid Matilda guilt.

  My dad gave me an awkward smile, crinkling his brow all the way up to his receding hairline as he cut into his steak. “You’re really too thin to be dieting, Janie. I hear that curvy Marilyn Monroe look is coming back into style.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not dieting, Dad.”

  “Are you feeling well, honey?” My mom reached over to lay the back of her hand against my forehead.