Ghosting You

by Alexander C. Eberhart

  A breeze kicks up, rustling the trees overhead. A single green leaf falls from the top of an oak tree, twirling in perfect circles all the way down.

  “I figured as much.”

  He takes half a step forward. He’s so close I can see how the droplets of moisture that stick to the thick, dark lashes under his eyes. “I know I fucked up, Tommy. But you have to believe me when I say, I never meant to hurt you. And last night—” he pauses, lip trembling. He takes a deep breath and then continues—“Last night was just so perfect. And I fucked it all up.”

  Nick exhales another shaky breath. Twisted brambles wrap around my stomach, squeezing tight.

  “Please say something,” he whispers and wipes the side of his face with the back of his hand.

  I really wish this were a movie. Then I’d know exactly what to say, and I’d get endless attempts to get it just right.

  But I’ve only got one shot at this, so here goes.

  “Do you know who I was texting, when I sent you that first message?”

  Nick’s brow furrows. “I have a pretty decent guess.”

  “So, you know what I was doing, when I was sending those messages. Who I was talking to?”

  He nods, shifting his weight from one leg to the other with the bend of a knee.

  “I’ve been talking to him that way, ever since he died. Just a perpetual one-sided conversation. It helped, I think. In its own way. At least, for a while. It let me keep him, for just a little bit longer. But the more time went on, the further and further Chase felt from me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Tommy. If I’d known sooner—”

  I hold up my hand. “Please. Let me finish.”

  He gives me another nod, the smallest sheepish smile twisting the corners of his mouth.

  “I started to hear his voice—or at least what I’d imagine he’d say—on a daily basis. Here he was, my best friend, talking to me from the ‘great beyond.’ Any normal person would have thought they were going insane. I just figured it was Chase being his amazing self. He was always the most incredible person, why wouldn’t he be able to communicate post-mortem?

  “It sounds silly, I know. But he was always doing things that I thought were impossible, like talking to people he didn’t know and stopping a movie halfway through and making the decision every day to be the person that he felt on the inside, no matter what the outside world told him.”

  I pause, finding myself grinning. There are so many things I love about Chase.

  “I was happy to have him. At least, I thought so. And then you came into the picture. Crashed through my life and Claudine’s shop like a comet made of plaid shirts and endless rambling. I couldn’t stand you at first.”

  A broken laugh bursts through his grimace.

  “But Chase kept pushing me toward you. Every time I’d talk to you, every layer I peeled back, his voice would get softer. And then, he was gone. I haven’t heard a word since I kissed you.”

  “Why, do you think?”

  I shake my head. “The romantic buried deep inside wants to say he was steering me to you, and now that his job is done, he’s resting. The realist in me says maybe my brain has finally fixed some chemical imbalance. Both seem pretty far-fetched.”

  A smile plays across Nick’s face. “I like the first one.”

  “I have to know, Nick. Why didn’t you tell me it was you?”

  He flinches from my question, hands falling to his side in clenched fists.

  “I was going to, I swear. Things went from zero to sixty between us and before I could find the right time, you’d figured it out.”

  I nod, the sincerity of his words seemingly genuine. “That doesn’t make it better. You have to understand how bad it looked last night.”

  “I do,” he whispers. “And it’s killing me. I promise I will make this up to you. I don’t want to hurt you, Tommy. That’s the very last thing I want to do.”

  I take the final step between us and wrap my hand around his. “I want to believe that. I want to believe that the universe had a reason to push us together.”

  Nick’s grip on my hand tightens. “Same here. I don’t know what’s going to happen between us, but I know that I want to follow the path till it ends. Wherever that is.”

  “Me too. No more secrets between us.”

  “I’m an open book,” Nick says with a chuckle. “Ask away. I’ll tell you anything you want.”

  “Later. Right now, there’s only one thing that I want to do.”

  Nick cocks an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

  My lips meet his with sparks and honeyed sweetness.

  “The stars are so bright out here.”

  Clusters of white pinpricks scatter across an aphotic sky. Cicadas have laid claim to their territory and chirp in rhythm all around us. Tommy’s head hasn’t left my chest since we lay down on the rock face, gazing up at the night.

  “Spoken like a true city-boy.”

  “Guilty AF.”

  “Do you miss the city?”

  “I miss my friends, mostly. This is the longest Reese and I have been apart since middle school. I think it’s getting to her. She’s not a resilient as I am.”

  “Uh-huh. I wonder what she’d have to say about that.”

  We laugh, loud enough that the cicadas quiet down for a second, then join right along with the raucous noise. When the chuckling has died down, Tommy sits up. I immediately miss the weight of his head on me.

  “Do you want to come with me to the festival tomorrow?” he asks, his eyes reflecting back the crescent shape of the moon.

  “Um, sure. Which festival is that?”

  Tommy grins then says, “It’s the Freedom Festival. We do it every fourth of July. Didn’t you see the pamphlet?”

  “Must have missed that one. But it sounds fun! I’m assuming there will be fireworks?”

  He nods, “It’s a bit ridiculous, but all the tourists love it. There’s more fried food than the Perry Fair, carnival games, a Ferris wheel, petting zoo. You name it.”

  “Sounds very american.”

  “The only thing more american would be Uncle Sam, strutting down Wall Street in a red, white, and blue jumpsuit, firing an assault rifle into the air while also simultaneously defunding the public-school system. Oh, and he’s eating a Twinkie.”

  “What about hot dogs? There’s gotta be one of those in there too.”

  “It’s inside the Twinkie. Hot dog stuffed Twinkie. It’s like, the worst version of a corn dog.”

  I cringe. “My arteries are clogging just thinking about it.”

  Tommy grins. “How do you think Uncle Sam feels?”

  “I can’t speak for him, but I for one would love to go to the festival with you. I heart funnel cake and I’m not afraid to show it.”

  “Oh my god, I think I love you.”

  Tommy laughs and I know that he’s joking, but his words burrow into my brain and then sink into my stomach, erupting into swarms of butterflies that spew back out my mouth—

  “What time should I be there?”

  Tommy scratches the back of his head before he answers, “Mom will probably want us to go over together. So, like four-ish?”

  “Okay, sweet. Sounds like a—wait.” I lean forward, eyes squinting with suspicion. “You really had me going there for a second. This is all a clever ruse to get me to agree to meet your mother, isn’t it?”

  Tommy rolls his eyes, but his smile endures. “You caught me. I put together the entire festival just for that. How could you have deduced my brilliant plan?”

  “Intellect, my dear Watson. Sheer intellect.” I pull the imaginary pipe from my mouth and point it at him. “And if someone is willing to pay off the entire town, just to get me to meet his mother, then I must also deduce that he’s really into me.”

  Tommy leans in closer, his hand resting on my chest. “You don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to figure that one out.”

  I can’t help myself. I devour the distance between us and kiss him
, and kiss him, and kiss him until the moon has drifted across the sky and the rock beneath us cools and the cicadas have entered their third act.

  “Nicky?”

  Reese’s muffled voice comes from beneath a stack of brightly colored pillows. I can barely make out a curl of her crimson hair sticking through a crack in the fluffy fortress.

  I glance at the time on the dashboard. “Shit, sorry Reese, I didn’t realize how late it was.”

  There’s a rustling on her end of the phone and then her face emerges from the palisade of pillows. “Is someone dead? Do I need to confirm an alibi for you? Shit, um… We were up all night, eating Oreos while binging Golden Girls and arguing about how I like to consider myself a Blanche, but we both really know that I’m a Dorothy, and that’s one of my greatest regrets in life.”

  “Okay, first of all, if you’re Dorothy, that makes me Sophie, which I’m surprisingly okay with. Second of all, we need to work on your on-the-fly alibis.”

  Reese rubs her eyes then squints a glare at me. “What is it then, Nicky? You interrupted my Shawn Mendes dream.”

  “Apologies for that, and for calling so late, but I just couldn’t wait to tell you in the morning.” I sit back in the driver’s seat, pressing into the headrest to calm the vibrations coursing through me.

  Reese taps on the screen, giving me a start. “So, what happened? Don’t keep my catatonic ass waiting.”

  I check the dashboard again. It’s really late, but Ma hasn’t even called. The cabin looks dark from the driveway, so here’s hoping she went to bed early and hasn’t even noticed I’m not in bed.

  “Right, so last night, I pick him up at his place—”

  Headlights reflect in the rear-view mirror, blinding me with a flash. I blink a few times, craning my head to make out the outline of an SUV pulling into the spot next to Ma’s.

  “Nick? You still there? Your face froze.”

  It can’t be him. Ma would have let me know he was coming. There would have been an email at least.

  The headlights shut off with the engine, then a car door and the ominous sound of footsteps crunching gravel. My lungs scream for me to breathe as I watch the shadow creep slowly towards the steps of the cabin, pause, then begin moving my way.

  “Nick, seriously, what’s going on?”

  “I think it’s my—”

  A sharp rap on the window makes me jump, a familiar face appearing in the glow of my phone.

  “Oh, shit.” Reese whispers, her face so close to the screen that this is starting to feel like the horror documentary I always knew my life would become. “Is it your dad?”

  I nod, then end the call, stashing my phone before he can get a good look at it.

  “What are you doing out here, son?” Dad’s voice is distorted through the glass.

  The door opens with a pull of the handle. Dad steps to the side, letting me get out. “I was talking to Reese. You know how loud she can get. I didn’t want to wake Ma.”

  The Dad-shaped shadow nods. “Well, let’s get inside. I’m dog tired, but we can catch up in the morning.”

  “Right, I’ll be right in. Let me just grab my charger.”

  “Sure, see you in the morning.”

  I lower myself back into the car. “Yeah, see you.”

  The outline of my father heads up the stairs and through the swinging door of the cabin. I take a second to dig my heart out of my throat.

  This certainly complicates things.

  “I have someone I want you to meet.”

  Mom looks up from her laptop, her reading glasses balanced just carefully enough that they don’t sit crooked, despite the fact they’re missing an arm.

  She squashes a smile before it blooms too large. “Really? Is this person… a friend?”

  My cheeks burn and I bury my hands in my pockets. “Yes. Well, yes and no. Definitely a friend. Maybe something more? I don’t know, Mom. I’m new to all of this.”

  “Just breathe, honey. I will be so thrilled to meet your definitely-friend-maybe-more person. When do I get to meet them?”

  “Tonight, at the festival. I know it’s usually just the two of us, but I figured you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Of course, I don’t mind!” She claps her hands, like me finally getting a boyfriend is something worth applause. Then again, to her it may be. “Oh, shoot! I’ve got a shift at Tom’s in an hour. What time are you going into town?”

  “We’re supposed to meet up at four.”

  “I’ll be at Tom’s till six, but don’t worry. I’ll bring a change of clothes so I can come right over. This is so exciting! This totally trumps the good news I got last night.”

  “What happened last night?”

  “The senate finally reached a vote yesterday, which means they are officially on a special recess for the next two weeks. And that means, I can finally take some of that vacation time I’ve been promised. So, after my shift tonight, I’m officially off duty for the next two weeks. If you need me, I’ll either be in my bed or on the river.”

  “You’re going kayaking?”

  Mom nods, watching me with a careful expression. “I would say you should join me, but I didn’t know what you’d think about that.”

  My veins have turned to ice just listening to her. But the only thing I hate more than the thought of getting back in that boat is Mom getting in it alone

  “I’ll get back to you on that,” I say, flexing my calves in an attempt to thaw my blood.

  “No pressure. I just miss the water. I know you must feel the same, deep down.”

  I do. I miss the water, just like I miss Chase.

  “Anyway,” I say, shaking the lingering memories. “So, we’ll see you around seven then?”

  “Don’t feel like you have to spend the whole night with me,” Mom says, pulling her glasses off and rising from her seat at the kitchen table. “We can meet up after the fireworks. That way the two of you can spend some quality time together.”

  I know she doesn’t mean it, but the way she says “quality time” scorches my face with a new blast of heat.

  “Sounds good. We’ll play it by ear.”

  “I’m going to go get ready,” she says, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “Can’t wait for tonight.”

  “Me either.”

  It’s a quarter till four. I should be leaving, but I can’t bring myself to get off the floor.

  The shoebox lays on its side, lid tossed aimlessly across the room. Photos of Chase spread across my floor, winding in a path with no real rhyme or reason. I want to crawl inside each of them. Savor these moments with him, moments in time when I didn’t know the universe could be so cruel.

  My camera sits on the bed. I added a fresh roll of film this morning. I owe it to Kayla, so I’ll take some shots at the festival. Now I just have to figure out how not to blow through the whole damn roll snapping pictures of Nick.

  Guilt swells in the pit of my stomach, pressing against my insides. Chase stares up at me from the fragments of his life. Why does it suddenly feel like I’m betraying him?

  It’s a ridiculous thought. Chase has been pushing me toward Nick all summer. Why wouldn’t he want me to be happy?

  Except…

  “I know it wasn’t really you, Chase.” I say out loud. “All this time, I’ve been telling myself it’s your voice that I hear, but we both know that’s a lie.”

  I grab the photo closest to me. Tears sting at the corners of my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. I’ve shed too many as it is. Spent too much time looking back.

  “So, look ahead.”

  The photo drops from my hand as I turn, like I actually expect to see Chase sitting on my bed. But it’s just my camera bag, and the three outfits that didn’t make the cut for tonight.

  Was that him? Or was it just my own way of giving myself permission to release the guilt I’ve harbored for the past year?

  Either way…

  My muscles unclench with a sigh.

  I glance down at my
phone. Shit! I’m late!

  Scrambling to my feet, the pictures scatter underfoot as I clear the door.

  My father sits at the breakfast table, his tablet reflected in his reading glasses.

  Damn. I was hoping last night had been some beef jerky-induced hallucination. The ‘Slim Tim’ I picked up at the gas station on the edge of town didn’t look right.

  “Good morning, Nick.” Ma greets me from the opposite end of the table. She’s not in her sweatpants today, which really drives home the fact that Dad is here. Relaxation is over.

  “Morning,” I mumble, going to the fridge. A line of Dad’s protein shakes sits on the top shelf. I don’t know how he drinks the stupid things, they taste like chalk.

  “Your mother has been filling me in on your summer activities,” Dad says, not looking up from whatever is so important on his tablet. “Sounds like you’ve had a busy summer.”

  She doesn’t even know the half of it.

  “Yeah, I guess.” I grab the milk and shut the door. A box of high fiber cereal is the only option, so I pour myself a bowl.

  Dad finally looks up. I freeze in transit as he locks eyes with me. “Is there anything you’d like to tell us about?”

  “Um.” I look to Ma, but she’s typing away with one earbud in. “No?”

  Dad nods as I take a seat between the two of them.

  “Are you sure? There wasn’t anything that happened that you feel the need to share with me?”

  My pulse quickens and I shove a spoonful of cardboard bits into my mouth to buy myself some time. What does he know?

  After mulling it over, I shake my head

  Dad sighs, his shoulders sinking inward. He lifts the napkin to his right, uncovering my shattered phone.

  “How did you—?”

  I look to Ma, whose typing has not even slowed since I sat down.

  “Ma?”

  “You hid it under a bed that’s three feet off the ground, Nick.” She breaks her focus long enough to give me a disgruntled look. “Who’s really at fault here?”

  “Answer me this, Nicholas.” Dad leans forward on his elbows, fingers interlocking. “If this is your phone—” he holds up the battered case “—then what were you using last night?”