It’s Brandon.
My heart starts pounding even faster.
“Hi,” he says softly.
“Hi.”
He sets his bag down on the floor and then just sits there, not saying anything.
“Um, aren’t you going to miss your ride?” I ask him.
He shakes his head. “Kyle’s mom was picking us up. But I told them to go along without me, I’d walk.”
“Oh.” Brandon’s house is way too far away to walk to. Especially when it’s so cold out. Which means he must have really, really wanted to talk to me. Right? I don’t want to let myself believe it, because if I do and it’s not true, then I’m going to be crushed.
“Kendall,” he says. “I think we really need to talk.”
“Yes,” I say, taking a deep breath. “We do.”
He doesn’t say anything.
I don’t say anything.
“So, what’s going on with us?” he says. “Do you still want to be my girlfriend?”
“Yes!” I say a little too loudly. “Yes, of course I want to be your girlfriend.”
“So then why were you sneaking around last night with Micah?” he asks. He turns to look at me, and I can see the hurt in his eyes. I hate the fact that I hurt him.
“Brandon,” I say. “There is nothing going on with me and Micah. I promise. In fact, I’m never going to talk to him again if you don’t want me to.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t care if you’re friends with him,” he says. “But it doesn’t seem like you guys are just friends. I mean, you keep lying to me about being with him.”
“I know it looks bad,” I say. I turn to him on the bench. A few more people come into the lobby, laughing and joking before heading out the front doors. I wait until they’re gone before I talk again. “Do you want to go somewhere a little more private?” I ask.
“Like where?”
“We could go sit in the snack bar.” I point through the double doors to the snack bar, where they’re serving food and warm drinks.
He shrugs, and I decide to take it as a yes, so I get up and start walking inside.
Once we’re at the snack bar, I order two hot ciders and bring them to a table in the back where Brandon is sitting and waiting.
“Thanks,” he says, taking the drink from me.
“You’re welcome.” I take a sip of the hot cider, letting it slide down my throat and warm me. My hands are still cold from my bike ride, so I cup them around my drink. “So, listen,” I say. “I’m going to tell you something now, and when I say it, you’re not going to believe me.”
Brandon frowns. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”
“Because it’s going to sound crazy.”
“Okay.” He sets his cider down on the table, leans back in his chair, and waits.
“Um, so do you want to hear it?”
“I’m waiting, aren’t I?”
“Okay.” I wipe my palms on my jeans nervously. Wow. I thought there’d be more back-and-forth, like maybe I’d have to convince him to actually listen to me. Now that he’s just going to let me talk, I’m a little nervous. I haven’t prepared what I’m going to say or anything. I haven’t thought about how to frame it. Should I just blurt it out?
“So this is going to sound crazy,” I start.
“Yeah,” Brandon says. “You already said that.”
I have to stop stalling and tell him the truth.
“So, the reason I was hanging out with Micah,” I say, “is because I was helping his sister.”
Brandon’s forehead crinkles in confusion. “His sister?”
“Yes. Her name’s Lyra. She’s the same age as us, and she was having problems with one of her friends.”
“Was his sister that girl you were with at the bowling alley?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “That was Rachel. She’s Lyra’s friend.”
Brandon shakes his head. “I’m confused.”
“I was at the salon,” I say, “and that’s where I met Lyra. She told me that she needed me to help her work out this problem she had with her friend.”
“Why did she need you to help her?” he asks. “And why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“Well,” I say slowly. “That’s the unbelievable part.” I take a deep breath. “Brandon, Lyra’s dead.” The statement hangs in the air between us, the last word echoing through the almost empty snack bar.
“What do you mean, she’s dead?”
“I mean she’s a ghost.” I swallow. “I can see ghosts.”
He just stares at me. He’s not saying anything. I study his face for clues about what he’s thinking, but there’s nothing. Just complete and total blankness. I take this as a good sign (at least he’s not freaking out, right?) and so I push on.
“I’ve been able to see them since I was a little kid,” I say, “and I help them to move on. So that’s why I had to hang out with Micah. I needed to get closer to him so I could get closer to his sister.”
He’s still not saying anything, except now he looks stunned.
“Brandon,” I say, “say something.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t . . . I mean, I’m not sure exactly what to say.”
“Do you believe me?”
“I’m not . . . I mean, I don’t . . .” He sighs. “You realize how ridiculous this sounds, right?”
I nod. We sit there for a few more minutes, neither one of us saying anything.
“Brandon?” I finally say in a small voice.
“Yes?”
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?” He sounds wary.
“I’ve also . . . um, I’ve also been seeing your mom.”
He frowns. “My mom?”
“Yeah. She keeps showing up, telling me to stay away from you.”
His face loses some of its color, and he holds on to the side of the table, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“You can see my mom?” he asks in a small voice.
I nod. “Yes,” I say. “She’s always asking me to stay away from you. I don’t know why.”
He shakes his head, and his grip on the table gets tighter. I can see his knuckles turning white from the strain.
“Do you have any idea why she’d want to keep us apart?” I ask.
He nods. “Maybe it’s because of what you’re doing right now,” he says.
“What?” His words feel like a slap.
He stands up and grabs his gloves off the table, and shoves his fingers into them angrily. “I knew something was going on with you and Micah,” he says. “But I never thought you’d make up something like . . . to lie about being able to see my mom . . .”
“I’m not making it up!” I say. “Brandon, I would never—”
“Save it,” he says.
And then he walks out on me.
• • •
I sit there for twenty minutes or so, drinking my apple cider and trying to stop my hands from shaking. I told Brandon my secret. And he thinks I’m a freak. If I was worried about him never talking to me again before, he’s definitely never going to talk to me again now.
I wonder if he’ll tell Ellie. I wonder if she’ll think I’m a horrible person too, for making up such a terrible lie involving someone’s dead mother.
After a little while I’m done with my cider, and the girl working the counter is starting to give me dirty looks. I think they’re closing or something.
So I get up and toss out my empty paper cup, then throw away Brandon’s full one.
I get outside and hop onto my bike. Tears are dripping down my face, and even though it’s cold outside, my whole body feels warm and heavy. I don’t think I have the energy to even ride my bike home. But what choice do I have?
I can’t call my dad and ask him to come and get me. He’ll know that I lied to him.
I push off down the road. My feet feel like lead. I put my bike into the highest gear, but it doesn’t really help that much. The adrenaline and hope that kept me going on
the ride here are gone, and now all I feel is sad and tired.
But as I keep going, something starts to happen to me.
My sadness and fear start to turn into anger. Why am I the one who has to devote her life to helping all these ghosts? Why should I not be allowed to have a normal life?
It’s not fair!
I’m so angry that by the time I get to the cemetery, the pedals of my bike are flying. In fact, I’m so worked up that I keep going and going, past my house and all the way down Main Street. It’s like I’m a woman possessed.
I don’t realize exactly where it is that I’m going until I pull up in front of the bus station. I’m a little surprised that I’m here, but not really. I suppose that on some level, somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it was going to come to this.
I’m going to have to get answers.
And there’s only one person who might have those answers.
About Mrs. Dunham, and about everything else.
My mom.
Chapter
14
When I get to the ticket counter, I act like I know exactly where I’m going and pretend that I’m super-impatient to get there, just in case anyone gets suspicious that I’m traveling by myself. But to my surprise, the clerk doesn’t care.
He sells me a ticket to Camden. The bus leaves in forty-five minutes.
I hold my breath as he swipes the emergency credit card my dad gave me (if this isn’t an emergency, then what is?), but it goes through with no problem.
While I wait for the bus, I buy a Snickers bar and an orange juice. I drink the orange juice but only manage to eat about half the candy bar. Which is good. I’m hopped up enough already.
By the time I climb into the bus, I’m feeling surprisingly calm.
I even make conversation with the girl sitting next to me, a college student who’s on her way home for a visit.
I expect the ride to feel like it takes forever, but it’s actually the opposite. When the bus pulls into the Camden station, it seems like it’s too soon.
There’s a line of cabs waiting outside, and I climb into one of them.
I recite my mom’s address, the address I pretend to care nothing about but memorized as soon as I saw it.
A few minutes later the cab pulls up in front of a suburban house with white shutters. It’s a colonial, and there’s a red Toyota parked in the driveway.
I peer out the window.
“Can you wait here?” I ask the cabbie. “Um, just for a minute? I might need you to take me somewhere else.”
Now that I’m here, I’m starting to realize what a horrible plan this is. One, I don’t even know if my mom still lives here. Two, I don’t know anything about her life. Is she remarried? Does she have other kids? Is she going to slam the door in my face?
I pay the cabbie for what I already owe, swiping my emergency credit card through the machine and adding an extra-big tip, since he’s willing to wait for me.
Then I make my way up the driveway. My anger is gone, and now I’m just going on straight adrenaline.
I ring the doorbell, moving back and forth, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I have so much nervous energy, I think I’m going to explode.
After a moment the door opens.
And there she is.
My mom.
She looks exactly like I remember. Or at least I think she does. I’m not sure if I really remember her or if I just remember her from pictures. There are little wrinkles around her eyes now, and her hair is lighter. But she looks pretty. She’s wearing a soft-pink sweater and a pair of white jeans.
She looks like me.
Her eyes brighten as soon as she sees me, her features arranging themselves into a shocked expression.
“Kendall,” she says.
If I was worried about her not recognizing me, I guess I didn’t have to be.
I nod, not knowing what to say.
“Do you want to come in?” she asks.
I stand there for a second, unsure.
She hesitates, then says, “I know why you’re here.” She takes a deep breath. “You’re here because of Brandon.”
And that’s what settles it.
I move through the open door and into the front hallway. . . .
LAUREN BARNHOLDT is the author of Girl Meets Ghost, Fake Me a Match, Rules for Secret Keeping, The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney, Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better, Four Truths and a Lie, and the teen books Two-way Street, Watch Me, One Night That Changes Everything, Sometimes It Happens, The Thing About the Truth, and Right of Way. She spends most of her time reading, writing, and watching reality TV. Visit her website and say hello at www.laurenbarnholdt.com.
ALADDIN
SIMON & SCHUSTER, NEW YORK
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Don’t miss these other great books
by Lauren Barnholdt:
Girl Meets Ghost
Fake Me a Match
Rules for Secret Keeping
The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney
Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better
Four Truths and a Lie
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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www.SimonandSchuster.com
First Aladdin hardcover edition September 2013
Copyright © 2013 by Lauren Barnholdt
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
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The text of this book was set in Minion.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Series design by Lisa Vega
Jacket design by Jeanine Henderson
Jacket illustration by Mary Lynn Blasutta
The harder the fall / by Lauren Barnholdt. — First Aladdin hardcover edition.
p. cm. — (Girl meets ghost ; #2)
Summary: Kendall Williams talks to ghosts. This time it’s Lyra who can’t move on. Kendall’s efforts to help her jeopardize her own relationships with her best friend and her boyfriend. And when Kendall finally reveals her secret ability, the results are devastating.
ISBN 978-1-4424-4247-4
[1. Dead—Fiction. 2. Ghosts—Fiction. 3. Psychic ability—Fiction. 4. Middle schools—Fiction. 5. Schools—Fiction. 6. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.B2667Har 2013
[Fic]—dc23
2013000559
ISBN 978-1-4424-2150-9 (eBook)
The Harder the Fall Page 16