The Edge of Great

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The Edge of Great Page 8

by Micol Ostow


  And it was filled with Lifers.

  They were dressed like it was an awards show, all in deep black or brilliant white, with jewels shining everywhere. Jazzy music played in the background.

  “Wow …” Reggie breathed, totally blown away.

  “I think we’re a little underdressed,” Luke joked. Immediately, out of habit, all three of us went to tuck our shirts in and smooth down our collars.

  “This is a very exclusive crowd,” Willie went on. “Everyone here paid a lot to get a peek at the afterlife.”

  Reggie shook his head. “Wait. They can see us here? I always knew rich people did weird stuff like this.”

  Like this? Really? I didn’t say it.

  A ghost maître d’ poofed out of thin air (I mean, technically, I guess that’s what all poofing was—but this felt especially abrupt). He wore a tuxedo and looked extremely fancy. That seemed like the theme in this place. He led us to a table with a little sign on it: RESERVED. WILLIAM, PARTY OF FOUR.

  I turned to thank him as I sat down … but he’d already vanished.

  Luke was edgy, jiggling in his seat and scanning the room. “So how do we stay visible outside this club, too, so we can confront our old bandmate?”

  “Oh, no one here has the power to do that,” Willie said.

  Luke made a face like he was going to ask a question—How can all the Lifers in here see us, then? I wanted to ask it myself—but before he could say anything, the house lights dimmed and the audience snapped to attention. The room buzzed with anticipation.

  “But here comes the ghost who does,” Willie whispered.

  An announcer’s voice boomed through the space. “Ladies and gentlemen, back from the dead by POPULAR DEMAND, the one, the only … CALEB COVINGTON!”

  A spotlight cut through the darkness landing on—I guess—Caleb, who floated down toward the stage in a top hat and tails. His eyes were an electric blue and his smile was almost as blinding as the spotlight. Something about him was familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it …

  As the ghost touched down on the stage, he tipped his hat to the cheers of the crowd. “Did you miss me?” His voice was pure velvet. Judging from the applause, people definitely missed him. He beamed, drinking it in. “I missed me, too!

  “Welcome,” he said, spreading his arms wide, “to the party of your dreams! From the Egyptians to the Druids to the person sitting next to you, we’ve all wondered: Where do we go when the final light is snuffed out?”

  A murmur of agreement broke out among the crowd. “Allow me to show you!” Caleb said, spreading his arms wide.

  He floated back up as an orchestra began its overture. Bobbing among the audience, he began to sing.

  Let me introduce myself / We got some time to kill / Consider me the pearly gates to your new favorite thrills

  The audience ate him up as he swooped and soared through the crowd. He wavered near our table but took a moment to jokingly hypnotize some of the Lifers in the group. Then he was back, lingering over us, singing promises of a better life … er, afterlife, I guess.

  Life is good / On the other side of Hollywood / Life is good / On the other side of Hollywood / So welcome to the brotherhood / Where you won’t be misunderstood / Life is good / On the other side of Hollywood

  Everything has got a price /

  But happiness is free / Just so happens / You’re in luck / We’ve got a vacancy

  I glanced at Willie, who was smiling at me, enjoying how blown away the guys and I were by the whole performance, the place, Caleb … everything. The music was amazing, Caleb’s stage presence was magnetic, and it was completely insane knowing we were sitting at a table, surrounded by people who could see us, just like we could see them. Even though we weren’t playing, and we weren’t with Julie. A couple at a table nearby waved at us, and Reggie waved back with excitement. Meanwhile, a group of waiters danced around us with platters of decadent food and an array of desserts. People could see us. People could hear us. And in this club … we could eat?

  Oh, I missed eating.

  “This is so cool!” Reggie said, echoing my thoughts.

  “I knew I recognized that guy!” I said, putting it together. “He was the one who bumped into me outside the Orpheum.” It had taken me a minute, I was so blown away by the club, but it was definitely him.

  “Isn’t he the magician who died doing one of his tricks?” Reggie asked, remembering.

  “Yeah … I wouldn’t bring that up when we meet him,” I said.

  “So he waves his arms and he can make ghosts visible to Lifers?” Luke asked, trying to understand.

  “The guy has skills,” Willie said.

  “Wait, where’d he go?” Reggie asked, squinting at the now empty stage.

  Poof! Caleb appeared right behind us! We all jumped up, startled.

  “Found him!” Reggie said.

  “Hello, gentlemen. Caleb Covington. Welcome to the Hollywood Ghost Club. Enjoying the show?”

  Even Luke was totally thrown. “I can’t … you were …” he stammered. “That performance ruled.”

  Caleb gave him a knowing smile. “Yes, it did.”

  Willie stepped forward to introduce us. “This is Alex, Luke, and Reggie.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, sounding exactly as awestruck as I was feeling.

  “The pleasure is mine,” Caleb said. “Nothing warms my heart more than sharing this magic with new friends. Please, sit.”

  The maître d’ pulled up an extra chair, and we settled back at the table.

  “Now,” Caleb said, “my friend Willie tells me you boys have some magic of your own.”

  I don’t know that I would call what Willie and I had magic. Or would I? “Oh, well, we—”

  “He means your ghost abilities,” Willie said, cutting me off. “You know, how everyone sees you when you play with Julie.”

  “Right, yeah. That. For sure.” I definitely knew that’s what he meant.

  “But we can’t—wave our arms and make all this magic happen,” Luke put in.

  Caleb gave him an understanding look. “I’ve had some practice. Our gifts are so rare. So special. It’s not often I come across other spirits who possess similar … talents. It’s no surprise we found one another.”

  “Definitely,” Luke said, looking totally mesmerized.

  “Forgive me,” Caleb said abruptly. “Gotta go pay the bills, if you know what I’m saying. I’ll be back later to chat.” He flashed us one last dazzling Hollywood smile and left the table.

  “I love that dude,” Reggie said, sighing as we watched Caleb move off. “Tell me this party’s never gonna end.”

  I mean, they say a watched pot never boils. But staring at my watch over and over again, desperate for the guys to show up at school, was not making time pass any slower. It’s 9:15 p.m. Where are they?

  Flynn and her DJ skills were keeping the crowd at the dance happy—for now. But how much time could she buy? I peered at her from my perch backstage, in the wings, hating how hot my face felt, how much more nervous I was getting with each passing minute.

  “Is everyone fired up about Julie and the Phantoms?” she called.

  Everyone cheered.

  “Great!” she said. “Keep that fire—’cause that’s later! We’re just a little behind schedule.” I could hear her struggle to sound cool. “In the meantime, enjoy these mind-blowing beats!” She dropped another beat and—thank god—the crowd immediately got into it, jumping up and down.

  They were way more amped up than I was feeling.

  Flynn met me backstage. I looked at her. “Julie and the Phantoms?”

  She shrugged. “I had some time in French class. You better like it ’cause I already registered it on Twitter, Insta, and Snapchat.”

  I sighed. “No, I love it. I would just love it more if the actual Phantoms were here.”

  “Hey.”

  Flynn and I both turned.

  “Nick?” I was so surprised, I completely
spazzed out. “Nick! Look, Flynn—Nick’s here. It’s Nick.” OMG Julie: chill, girl.

  Nick smiled. “Thanks for the introduction.”

  Flynn wagged an eyebrow at me and slipped away knowingly.

  “I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” I said when it was just Nick and me.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, making my heart flutter. “The truth is, I couldn’t wait to see you play again. Your song’s been stuck in my head since I heard you play at the pep rally.”

  Wow. I swallowed, not knowing what to say to that. Nick and I had been friends for ages—and my crush on him had lasted for almost as long—but ever since Carrie and I fell out, things were weird between us. When your crush’s girlfriend is your frenemy, things tend to get awkward.

  “Hey, I like your shoes,” Nick said, breaking me out of my reverie.

  I looked down to my tennies, which I’d decorated with lots of colorful little drawings. It was just something I did when I was bored. “Oh, thanks. I just like to doodle—”

  “I can’t tell if the crowd is getting restless or bored. Never a good sign.” It was Carrie, sidling up to Nick with her fake-sweet smile. She glanced at me like she’d just realized I was there. “Oh hi, Julie.” She scanned the space, her gaze landing on the little small projector box I’d stashed on the dais. “What’s that?”

  “My new hologram projector,” I said. “Did a little upgrade.” Still had to keep up appearances, after all—that is, if the band ever actually makes an appearance.

  “Huh,” Carrie said, her voice deceptively bright. “So simple. I was expecting something a little more sophisticated.”

  I looked at her. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

  She smiled. “Yeah, that’s what a lot of people have to tell themselves.” She grabbed Nick’s arm possessively. “Come on, Nick,” she said, leading him away.

  “Why can’t you just chill?” I heard Nick ask as they wandered off. I was having a rotten night, so far, but knowing he wasn’t totally brainwashed by her helped.

  “I’m sorry,” Carrie sniffed, “but there’s something about amateur night that makes me a little queasy.”

  Yeah, I thought, that slight thrill of Nick standing up to Carrie deflating. I was feeling a little nauseated myself.

  “I can only stall for so long.”

  Flynn stood over me backstage in full “moment of truth” mode. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, so I fiddled with my projector—pretending like it even mattered. Ha.

  “You should just play by yourself. Holograms or no holograms, you’ll be amazing.”

  “You saw me the other day,” I protested. “I can’t do it without them. They’ll be here. They have to.”

  With a heavy sigh, Flynn returned to her DJ table.

  “Issues?”

  I looked up. Nick. How had he managed to sneak up on me, not once but twice tonight?

  “Always,” I said, hoping he was buying it. “Machine won’t work.”

  He lifted the cord and began to follow it to the power source. “Oh,” I said, “you really don’t have to …”

  “Here’s the problem!” he said, bright. He held the cord up. “The plug’s not in.”

  Busted. What now? My shoulders and my spirits sagged. “Thanks,” I mustered.

  Nick gave me a strange look. “Unless you didn’t want it plugged in?”

  So busted.

  Nick’s gaze softened. “Hey, don’t let this crowd freak you out. What I saw last time you played was insane. You got this.”

  He didn’t get it. But he was so sweet.

  And he … was moving toward the stage.

  Oh no! What was he doing?

  I watched in terror as Nick signaled for Flynn to stop the music. He grabbed a mic. “Hey, everybody! We fixed the hologram thing! Who wants to see a show?”

  The crowd hooted and hollered. My stomach sank. Flynn shot me a panicked look.

  “That’s more like it,” Nick called into the mic. “Now give it up for Julie and the Phantoms!”

  The crowd went crazy. It was like nothing I’d ever heard before. And it was for me.

  For me … and the Phantoms … who had, ironically, totally ghosted me.

  This was my worst nightmare. Way more terrifying than the one where you go on an audition and realize you forgot your sheet music and you’re naked. I walked numbly toward the stage, trying to tune out the expectant faces and the enthusiastic cheers.

  I took the mic from Nick, who beamed at me proudly. You won’t be proud of me in another minute. “Hi,” I said, wincing at the nervous squeak in my voice. “Here’s the thing. Even though we fixed the machine—thanks, Nick—I can’t seem to link up with the guys.” I took a breath. “Wi-Fi, am I right?” I waved my phone, but the awkward “joke” just sat in the air like dead fish. “I’m sorry,” I finished. “I’m going to have to cancel.”

  The boos came quickly. Almost as quickly as Carrie’s response. “Only one way to save this dance. Party at my house!”

  Nick shot me a pleading look, but Carrie hooked an arm through his and led him off, with the crowd cheering again, now.

  But this time, they were cheering for Carrie.

  I loved how excited Alex and his friends were to be partying with Caleb at the hotel. It was nice to see him finally have a little moment to appreciate the upsides that being a ghost could have. The dude was wound so tight! It was fun to party and let loose a little. And this club was the place to do it! Glitz and glamour, twinkling chandeliers, and people dressed all fancy. It was like being on a movie set.

  Watching Alex so excited and, well … practically alive again …

  It was almost enough to make the guilty chatter in the back of my mind go quiet. Almost.

  “This is one crazy show,” Alex said, leaning into me at the table. Around us, Reggie and Luke were dancing and mingling with all the partygoers. “I’m guessing the Lifers are sworn to secrecy or something?”

  “Or something,” I told him, hating that I had to be a little cagey. “Let’s just say Caleb’s offered all the ghosts here, with their membership, the opportunity to experience this for eternity, and they happily accepted.” Of course, there was a catch. But I couldn’t get into that right now.

  “And all these ghosts just want to party and not cross over?” Alex sounded incredulous.

  “Why cross over when they can hang out and do this forever?” I pointed out. “There’s a lot to like here.”

  Caleb returned to the table with Reggie and Luke, so the whole band was together now. “I take it you boys are enjoying yourselves?”

  “You’d have to be insane to have a bad time here,” Luke said.

  “Entertainment is our specialty,” Caleb said. Then he got down to business. “So, I understand there’s something I can help you with.”

  “We hope so,” Reggie said. “A buddy of ours ripped us off big-time, and we need to make things right.”

  “Yeah,” Luke added. “We need to look him in the eye and make him admit what he did.”

  “So if you could make him see us, that would be perfect,” Alex said.

  “Sure,” Caleb replied, agreeable. “I can do that. But we’re at a party. Why focus on those who’ve wronged us when we’re among friends? I understand the three of you are talented musicians. I doubt your dream is to ‘settle a score.’ It must be bigger than that.”

  I watched as the boys took that in. Caleb was making his point, perfectly. He always did.

  “You’re like me,” he went on. “Born to perform in front of sold-out crowds. What if I were to tell you that with a wave of my hand, you could share the spotlight with me and join my house band?”

  I bristled. That wasn’t what Caleb and I had discussed before I brought the guys here.

  “We already have a band,” Luke pointed out.

  “Yes,” Caleb said. “But when you’re done playing, you cease to exist. No bows. No soaking up the applause. No real connection with the audi
ence.”

  Alex and Reggie looked at Luke, whose face was tight, obviously intrigued.

  “Here the audience knows what you are. And more important,” Caleb said, “they know how special you are.”

  I knew, then, that he had them. Because that was what everyone wanted, wasn’t it? Living or dead—we wanted to be reassured that we were special. And that others saw that spark within us.

  “Playing here could be cool,” Luke said, warming to the idea.

  “Oh, it’s not just here,” Caleb said. “We party like this all over the world. Tonight, Hollywood, tomorrow, Paris. It’s all your dreams come true … forever.” He paused for impact. I could tell from the guys’ expression that it was working.

  “I’ll give you some time to think about it.” He stood, ready to leave. “And by the way, make sure to try the sliders,” he added as a last thought. “They’re to die for.”

  At midnight, the guys were still having the time of their afterlives. Luke and Reggie were tearing it up on the dance floor with twin flappers, literally being swept off their feet. Alex was also on the dance floor, caught up in the crowd.

  As the grand clock on the wall struck twelve, Caleb called out, “The haunting hour is upon us!”

  The crowd cheered, but Luke stopped dancing and looked at Reggie, panicked. “Twelve? How’d that happen?” He waved his arm at Reggie. “Dude, we lost track of time.”

  Reggie waved him away. “Not right now, man.”

  “We were supposed to be at Julie’s school at nine!” Luke insisted.

  Finally, what Luke was saying seemed to break through Reggie’s haze. He pulled away. “Oh, shoot, that’s right. Maybe we can still make it. Alex—” he called out, “We forgot—”

  “Julie. I know!” Alex shouted, from where he was dangling in the air of an aerialist’s hoop. “This place is some kind of time warp!”

  “Poof down here, bro!” Luke yelled to him. “We’ve gotta get goin’!”

  I followed at a distance and saw Caleb poof in to block their exit.

 

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