by Spear, Terry
“…swampland begins. Yes.”
His eyes locked onto hers, his dark brows wrinkling slightly. Something bothered him, but what?
She twisted a curl behind her ear. “You seem to know the place.”
“I live there.”
Her mind shifted, trying to decipher his words. “But, you didn’t ride the bus.”
“No, I drove my own car.”
Car? He had a car? “Oh, right, you drove your grandmother to the hospital first. I forgot.” She wasn’t normally that scatterbrained, but Michael disrupted her thoughts with just the intensity of his gaze. He was a dream-come-true, that is, if he wanted to drive her to school and back every day.
She shuffled her feet. “I planned on driving my grandparents’ old white Caddy, but it wouldn’t start this morning. So, to my horror, I had to ride the bus.” Hint, hint.
“Did you have trouble on the bus?”
“There wasn’t any problem on the bus I couldn’t handle,” she said. Now, why did she say that? Despite the fact it was true, it made her sound totally self-sufficient when she wouldn’t mind having a guy who looked out for her from time to time. Someone just like Michael. Then again, what did she know about him? Nothing, except he lived near her, came from the West Coast, had a car, and was a total hottie.
Okay, so that was enough.
“Maybe we can study together sometime?” The warning bell rang for class, and her stomach muscles tightened with anxiety. Why couldn’t she get on with her social life without school interrupting it?
“Right after school?” he asked, with such urgency she was taken aback.
She wasn’t sure she’d even have anything to study by the end of the first day of school. “Sure.”
“Good.” He sounded relieved. “Later,” he hollered, and raced down the hall.
She smiled. Fall dance, here we come.
But then frigid air engulfed her, and she whipped around, expecting to see…what? A ghost? She blinked, trying to control her heart rate. There was nothing, save a few students racing to class. But her breath suddenly turned frosty, and she knew it wasn’t the school’s air conditioning that chilled her to the marrow of her bones.
Kids bumped into her, trying to get to their next class, and she headed for hers, an uneasy dread filling her. Was a poltergeist at the school the danger that the ghost in her bedroom warned her about?
Immediately she began reevaluating the situation. If the ghost knew about the one at school, how did she know?
* * *
Later that afternoon, Emily saw Michael zoning in on her from across the cafeteria, like a bee flying straight to a flower. But before she could react, a chair flew a foot away from a table near her and bumped against her leg. Startled, she cried out, but no one seemed to notice over the chatter. She knew then, she had real problems.
Since Michael had shifted his attention to observe Red and his buddies in the lunch line, she was certain he hadn’t seen the chair move. She wasn’t sure whether to be glad or disappointed.
When he reached her, he motioned toward the exit. “Do you want to eat at Pat’s Burgers?”
He did know the boys were causing her grief. Her smile couldn’t stretch any bigger. This time she’d let him protect her all the way. “Love to.”
But she glanced back at the chair, now turned north. Whoever the spirit was, it seemed to be trying to tell her something. The chair hadn’t hurt, her but she recognized the lost soul was attempting to get her attention. Unfortunately, no guidebook for interpreting ghost messages was available—as far as she knew.
Michael walked her outside to his vehicle, a shiny, tomato-colored Dodge Neon, brand new.
Wishing she had a car like that, she took a deep breath of the muggy air. “I need to know where you live, exactly, so I can come over to study later.”
“The house next door to yours.”
She stopped breathing. Not because he lived next door, but how could he have known? Her skin grew flushed, and her hands turned clammy. Something about Michael both intrigued her and made him seem dangerous. His mind remained off-limits to her probes, and she wanted to find out why.
From the age of five, she was able to read minds, and by twice that age, to control them. But not everyone’s. Some were impossible. She never knew the reason, but until now, it never mattered much. Not until she met Michael. Now she could barely control the urge to pry into his thoughts hidden behind the bulk of a castle’s dark and formidable walls.
When he opened the car door for Emily, she assumed he was trying to figure out how to explain how he knew she lived next door. If she could read his mind, she’d know for sure. When he didn’t speak, she smiled, trying to break the ice wall suddenly erected between them.
“You live next door.” She paused, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t ruin their newly formed friendship. “So, if you knew that, why did you ask me where I lived?”
He climbed into the car and turned on the ignition. No squeaking doors, the engine turned over immediately and hummed to perfection, and the smell of new leather still permeated the air. She took in a deep breath and ran her fingers over the soft seats.
His gaze meeting hers, his eyes turned darker, then his lips inched up. “I assumed your house was the only one with an old white Caddy parked out front.”
She was becoming paranoid. “Oh.” Still, she wasn’t totally convinced. He hesitated way too long to answer her.
For some strange reason, though, she was drawn to him. Why?
Making friendships was difficult for her. Confiding in former friends led to disasters she attributed to jealousy because she could do something the other girls couldn’t. Therefore, early on, she learned to keep her abilities secret. Yet as she grew older, she wished she had a friend to confide in.
Emily chided herself. If Michael knew, he’d end their friendship just as fast as the girls had.
After parking at Pat’s Burgers, Michael escorted her into the blue-roofed, fast food restaurant. The place smelled like spicy burgers and fries, making her stomach growl.
“About this afternoon, do you have to check on your grandmother at the hospital first? I mean, did you want to make our study date...” The word “date” caught in Emily’s throat, and she glanced at Michael. Date? Why did she call it that? Her whole body heated in awkwardness.
His expression slid from interested to amused, while he waited for her to finish her question.
She breathed deeply. Breathe in, breathe out. “Uh, well, maybe after supper?”
“My grandmother will be home already.”
“Oh. Does she live with you and your family, then?”
“I live with her.”
“Oh.”
Where were his parents? If he had to take his grandmother to the hospital for an emergency visit, who would bring her home? She hated how her mind worked overtime on puzzles. She nodded, certain she’d get some answers soon.
They walked into the food line and ordered cheeseburgers, while Emily’s thoughts shifted to the swamp across the street from their development.
“Since you’ve been here longer than I have, Michael, I wondered if you’ve explored the swamps.” Maybe he’d go with her when she went there.
“Too dangerous.” He spoke abruptly, nearly biting off his words while his face tightened.
“I’m not afraid of the swamps.” She slipped into a booth while he sat opposite her. “Since I’ve been unpacking all weekend, I haven’t had time to explore them, but I can hardly wait.” She had more than just a craving. She had to solve the mystery of the ghosts lurking there. Especially the one who wouldn’t let her sleep nights.
She bit into her burger.
“You shouldn’t go into the swamps.” He rubbed his temple, then lifted his soda to his lips. After taking a swig, he set the cup down, then grabbed his burger. “They’re not safe.”
“Because?” She gazed at him, assessing his reaction, though she had to squash her own exasperation he
was being so negative.
“Alligators, water moccasins, rattlesnakes, quicksand, you name it.”
Something about his concerned voice made her believe he worried about more than the deadly creatures he listed. But how would he know if some other evil lurked there, too?
“A ghost or two?”
Michael’s eyes widened. “Ghosts?” He gave a little laugh.
So much for his helping her to deal with the ghosts.
A sweet rose fragrance wafted behind her in the chilly air conditioned restaurant. She turned her head, but no one stood or walked nearby, and her skin erupted in goose bumps. The scent was the same she’d smelled in her bedroom in the middle of the night—she was certain. Which meant, the ghost wasn’t bound to a location…but a person—and she could haunt Emily, anywhere.
Chapter 3
The air suddenly felt as chilly as when Michael would lean into a Jiffy Mart freezer to snag an ice cream bar on a hot, sticky day. At the same time, an overwhelming fragrance of roses scented the air. He glanced up from his burger, and saw Emily rubbing her arms, her head turned to look behind her.
Signaling the appearance of a premonition, pressure centered in Michael’s forehead and his chest constricted. Noisy conversation and the clattering of plastic cups against tables faded from his hearing until all he could sense was the blood rushing through his ears, the smell of roses, and the refrigerated air freezing his blood.
Flashes of images appeared in his mind’s eye—flames streaking across black metal, tires squealing, gravel flying, unbearable heat so hot the sweat poured down his cheeks, and Emily’s stricken face.
The images vanished just as quickly as they had appeared, his heart rate slowed to normal, but his stomach still spun out of control.
He knew keeping Emily safe would require all of his concentration, and yet, the way she flashed her catlike, sea green eyes at him, he feared she’d keep him under her spell. How could he hope to protect her when that flirty smile of hers distracted him so much? Even now, she seductively curled a wisp of red hair around her finger, then picked up her burger and licked ketchup off the edge of the meat. Every time he got close, her flowery scent reminded him of spring, sweet and refreshing. He groaned inwardly.
He looked out the window and tried to figure out why Emily distracted him so. No one except for redheaded Susie McKnight had that effect on him.
But Emily was a different case. She seemed drawn to peril whereas, normally, Susie would have avoided it. The visions concerning Emily were still too vague to understand. All he knew was her life would be in real jeopardy before long, just like Susie’s had been. But the question was could he save her any more than he could Suzie?
* * *
Emily studied Michael while he stared out the window, his expression made it appear his mind was far away. She touched his hand, drawing his gaze back to her. “Is there anything wrong?”
“No, everything’s fine.”
But it wasn’t. She sensed it in the strange darkness in his voice. As much as she was dying to know the truth, she couldn’t force him to tell her. What was he hiding?
Then another thought occurred to her. He said he moved here with his parents because his father worked in the space program, then said he lived with his grandmother.
What in the world was going on?
“Your grandmother won’t be too tired to have me over, will she?”
“No.”
Emily twirled her straw in her soda, hoping her next words wouldn’t make him think she was too nosey. “You said your father came here to work.”
“Yep.”
“Where does he live?”
His brows rose, and he leaned back in his seat. “You know what they say about curiosity.”
A warning? A threat? Yet, he seemed to be teasing. Trying to disarm him, she smiled, but she couldn’t help wondering what was going on. “Sorry, a bad habit of mine.”
“Shows intelligence and a genuine interest in others. Most people are too busy thinking about themselves.” He wadded up his empty wrapper. “Guess we better get back to school.”
He wasn’t going to answer her question? He paid her a compliment and dismissed her concern?
She’d never found anyone as difficult to figure out. Maybe that’s what made him so intriguing.
She grabbed her cup and wrapper and shoved them in the trash on the way out. When they reached his car, he opened the door for her. Shaking her head, she admitted she found him so attractive because he was totally cute, nothing to do with him being such a mystery.
“Since your last class is psychology, I’ll pick you up from there and take you home. If your parents agree, you can come over afterward.”
He shoved her car door closed before she could speak. How did he know her last class was psychology? If he could read her mind, did he block her attempts at reading his?
Man, if he knew what she was thinking...her whole body flooded with mortification. He’d know all her secrets.
When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he stared at her. “Is something wrong? You look like a ghost just sat in your lap.”
Totally exasperated, she took a ragged breath. “Michael, how did you know I had psychology class last? Can you do something interesting, like read minds?”
He shook his head.
But then she wondered, wouldn’t most people who were confronted with such a question have laughed if they thought the notion ridiculous? Only someone who believed would take her seriously.
“I caught a glimpse of your class schedule when you opened your notebook in science. I wondered how many more classes we shared. I have psychology, too, but a different hour.”
“Oh.” She really had to get a grip. In an instant, she nearly spilled her story. Was it that she longed for someone to share her ability with? She knew that was the problem. The older she got, the worse it was. Her parents knew, but they were only her parents. She needed to confide in someone who had her same abilities. Someone who would truly understand.
“Are you okay, Emily?”
Nodding, she fastened her seatbelt. “I just thought maybe you could read minds or something fascinating like that.”
“No, nothing like that.”
Yet, from the way he had said “that”—slightly emphasized—she wondered if he made an unconscious slip. He couldn’t read minds, but he could do something else. Or was it that he had a higher than average IQ and didn’t want others to know about it?
He started the car and drove out of the parking lot.
“But, you’re a genius.”
He smiled a little, but he kept his eyes focused on the road.
“Aren’t you?”
“I remember things better than most, if that’s what you mean.”
Her heartbeat accelerated. “You mean, you have a photographic memory?”
He sighed deeply.
He was different. She knew it. “That’s nice, Michael.” Better than nice. Even if he didn’t have her abilities, he might be more understanding.
“Not when others know about it.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” She was dying to tell him hers, too, but later, when he got to know her better.
“Thanks. I have to give wrong answers sometimes so people don’t think I’m too weird.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling.” And how. She hated when people treated her like she wore pink horns and had purple skin, once they realized she was unusual. Like the time she helped two boys come to terms with the death of their friend. Think they would have cheered her? She hoped for friendship at least, a bonding between them for setting their friend’s spirit free. Instead, they nearly ran away from her every time they saw her, or whispered rude things about her being a witch.
Michael glanced at Emily. “How would you know what it’s like to be weird?”
“I just know, all right?”
They pulled into the school parking lot, and he shut off his engine. “All right. So what happened between you and
Red?”
Time to sidestep another issue. “We’re going to be late for class.” She exited the car and hurried across the parking lot.
He locked his car and dashed across the asphalt to join her. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”
Great, now he was tossing the ball back in her court and she wasn’t willing to play the game. Still, he didn’t always answer her, so tit for tat, she let this one slide.
She headed for math class, and he stayed at her elbow. “Are you in my algebra class, too?”
“Geometry.”
“But you’re headed for my class.” She tilted her chin up in question.
“I’ll escort you there.”
“Thanks, Michael, but you’ll be late for…” She saw Rocky standing in the doorway of her class.
Michael added, “I’ll see you to your seat.”
He was taking his knightly role in earnest. Good. She wouldn’t have to use her charm on Rocky and cause more problems.
When she sat down in class, Michael winked at her, then hurried out of the room. Several of the students watched them, and that was fine with her. If any of the girls entertained an interest in Michael, they could forget it. He was Emily’s for the duration. At least she hoped.
But when the dark-haired bully, Rocky, entered the class and gave her a dirty look, her skin crawled with fresh concern. She knew he and his bully friends would try something sooner or later. And the situation was bound to get worse.
* * *
When school ended, Michael met Emily at her class just as he’d promised, and none too soon. Red and his buddies stood near the doors leading out to the school buses, but when the blond kid pointed, they turned to glower at her.
Her jaw tightening, she quashed the urge to glare at them, to show them they couldn’t intimidate her. She hoped they missed the bus.
Ever since her abilities began to develop, she learned both to control and use them. But she was dying to be like every other normal teen. Therefore, the self-imposed New Year’s Resolution to limit her use of her abilities. Except she had one major problem. She couldn’t resist the temptation.