Uhm, aren’t ghost powers supposed to be cool?
“I, uh, I … ”
“I’m guessing that was you,” he says with a smirk. “The last time I did that it said, ‘Go get ’em, dude,’ so that’s how I know.”
“Very funny.”
Yes, this is truly embarrassing. And yes, I want to crawl so far into a hole right now that I would need a compass and a shovel to find my way out. But I have to admit, Colin has a real knack for making embarrassing things seem kind of … okay.
“The more you focus, the sooner you master standing. And the sooner you’re good at standing, the sooner we can go surfing. Deal?” he says.
“Deal.”
I focus on the sand once more, but this time I wipe my mind clear of anything emotional and simply try to connect the sand to my feet like two opposite sides of a magnet. As if there’s an invisible bridge of atoms filling the space in between where I’m floating and where the sand sits. I wiggle my toes inside my shoes. I point my feet. I stand up straight and pull out of myself, stretching so far that I probably lengthen three inches. I think about surfing and how it feels to catch that wave. Feeling the water underneath the board—not actually touching it, but still connecting with it so closely you can feel its every shift and splash.
Suddenly, I feel a thud, like I’ve just crashed into a wall with my feet.
“You did it!” Colin cries out. “That was even faster than I thought it would be.”
I look down and he’s right. I am fully standing on the sand!
I’m a ghost genius!
I kneel down to grab a handful of sand. At first I sense nothing but the air, but I wiggle my fingers and each time the sand disappears I dip down to fill my hand up again. Soon I start to feel the grains of sand falling through the spaces between my fingers—it feels hard and soft at the same time, and reminds me of Felix.
I feel a pinch of sadness.
“What are you thinking about?” Colin asks.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, even though I don’t have anything to apologize for. “I was just thinking about my best friend, Felix. He’s the one I used to go to the beach with all the time back home.”
Colin comes closer to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. And I can actually feel it resting there. It’s warm and comforting.
Just then I see a flash of black hair that looks an awful lot like Georgia’s jet out from behind the rocks. What is she doing, spying on us? Why is she so paranoid and obsessed with hating me?! And where is Cecily?
“You must miss him, huh?” Colin asks, oblivious. It takes me a second to remember what we were talking about.
“Felix? Yeah, I do. A lot.”
“Well, I know I’m not Felix, but if you give me a chance, I can be a pretty awesome friend, too.”
There it was. That word. FRIEND. My heart drops into my stomach like a broken elevator car.
Sigh.
But I smile big and say, “I would love for us to be friends.”
Then, all of a sudden, the sand beneath me starts to shift. It’s a strange sensation, and I’m pretty sure I’m not making it happen. I try to lift my feet up, but it feels like something is pulling them back down.
“Are you trying to walk?” Colin asks, excitedly. “That’s awesome, go for it!”
But I’m not trying to walk. The sand feels sticky, like I stepped in a huge wad of chewed gum, and I’m just trying to break free. Then the area around my feet forms a little tunnel and begins to pull me into it, like quicksand.
Exactly like quicksand.
“Lucy, what are you doing?” Colin says, assuming the problem is that my powers have gone bananas. “Just wipe your mind clean of everything and it will stop.”
“I know I’m a beginner, but I swear, this isn’t me!” I struggle to keep my balance as the ground sucks me in deeper and deeper. At least the times I’ve had things happen accidentally, I can point to something I’m thinking about—something intense and emotional—that can be the cause of my power. This time? I got nothin’.
“Are you sure?” Colin asks. “You think someone else is doing this to you?” He darts his head this way and that way, looking for a suspect.
I know Georgia is around the corner, but I can’t accuse her of this. Not to Colin. Not after I already said awful things about her to his face the other day. We’re finally on track. We’re becoming friends. But I’m pretty sure she is the only logical explanation for why I’m being sucked into the ground right now.
“I really can’t make it stop!” I cry.
My legs are almost entirely engulfed by this sand whirlpool, and I’m about to fall forward onto my face when Colin catches me and grabs me in his arms. We stare at each other for a moment, and the sandstorm settles a bit.
Maybe Georgia lost her focus. I try to peer over his shoulder past the rocks, but I can’t see anyone.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m better now. Thanks for saving me.”
I see another flash of black hair flying, and soon the quicksand is back at work pulling me down again. I wonder where Cecily is during all of this, if she can see Georgia doing it or if Georgia is just especially skilled at hiding her powers.
Colin tries to yank me up and out with all of his might. Aside from that brief moment in our room when Cecily and I hugged, this is the first time I’ve actually been able to interact with another ghost’s body since I got here. It feels nice to hug someone again. Even if Georgia is pulling me into the underworld while it’s happening.
“Oh no!” I hear Cecily yell. “Lucy, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
I look up and see Cecily peering down at me from above on the boardwalk. She descends the steps to the beach and rushes toward us. Just then, Georgia pops out from behind the giant rocks and follows Cecily. Almost immediately, the sand lets go of me, and Colin and I fall forward onto the ground. I’m smack dab on top of him, and even though I can’t see Georgia’s face, I have a pretty good idea what it looks like.
“What happened?” Georgia asks, pretending to be concerned. “Colin, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he says, as we both get up and dust ourselves off. “But someone was messing with Lucy. Did you guys see anyone staring at us or lurking around here?”
“I just got back,” Cecily says. “Georgia had me practicing floating all over the beach.”
“I didn’t see anyone,” Georgia replies, a little too quickly. Then she nearly wipes out—her legs buckle and she falls to the sand on her knees.
“That was weird,” Colin says, taking the words out of my mouth. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just … lost my footing,” Georgia says, but her face looks all pale, like she suddenly got very tired. “The sand is hard to stand on in heels.”
I give Cecily a look and I can instantly tell she’s thinking the same thing: Georgia did this to me. But neither one of us say anything. We’ll have to debrief about this later on, but for now, it’s best to just stay quiet. Besides, the magnitude of difference between what Georgia was hoping her little stunt would do (make me look stupid) and what her stunt actually did (cause Colin to grab me his arms and save me LIKE A PRINCE) is punishment enough, I think.
Gotta love karma.
“It’s fine. Whoever it was is hopefully long gone by now,” I say, looking Georgia straight in the eye. Just because I’m not going to blow up her spot in front of Colin doesn’t mean I’m going to take it lying down. Or covered in sand, for that matter.
“You’re probably right,” Georgia says. “So, did you two get a lot done?”
“We’re definitely making progress,” Colin says proudly. “Look, she’s standing! And she can touch. Watch—let’s shake hands, Lucy.”
Colin shakes my hand, and Georgia’s face gets red again.
This girl, seriously. Relax yo’self.
It’s not like he’s giving me a massage, jeez. Anyway, after several seconds of demonstrating my amazing hand-shaking abilities, it’
s time to call it quits. I’m tired from being assaulted by Georgia’s sand blender and I just want to lie down and gossip with Cecily.
“Well, I’m beat. Thanks for all your help today, Colin, but I think it’s time for me to head back to the dorms and get some rest.”
“Oh, sure,” he says, and I can tell he’s a little disappointed, which makes the butterflies in my stomach all happy again.
The four of us head back to the girls’ dorm together, where Colin and the rest of us part ways. Cecily and I don’t stick around to watch Colin and Georgia’s good-bye. I’m already feeling queasy because of her stupid ghost powers!
Cece and I get to our room and crash onto our beds, exhausted.
“This ghost thing is super hard,” she says. “I feel like a baby deer who can’t figure out how to work its limbs.”
“So you didn’t manage to make anything happen during your session?”
“What session?” Cecily says. “She spent half of the time asking me question after question about you, and the other half peeking behind the rock to spy on you guys. That’s when she wasn’t sending me floating halfway across the beach.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I can teach you all the stuff Colin taught me. You’ll pick it up in no time. I mean, you only had a week to learn my solo in the spring recital and you totally nailed it.”
“I guess, but this is different. Ballet I can do, it’s just a matter of learning the choreography. But this is like learning a whole new skill. What if I just can’t catch on? What if I’m awful at it?”
“That won’t happen. You’ll get it, I promise. And I’ll work with you every day until you do.”
The room is quiet for a moment.
“Luce?”
“Yeah?”
“I never really said I was sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“Sorry for taking your spot in the recital. But I am. Sorry. I know how much that part meant to you.”
This apology is unexpected, and even though I haven’t been wanting it, exactly, hearing it said out loud feels really good. I can’t say that I actually felt betrayed when it happened. I mean, that’s life, right? I got hurt. I couldn’t dance. The show must go on, blah blah blah. But we never talked about it. She never acknowledged how messed up it all was, or how hurt I must have been—and I don’t mean my ankle. So while I wasn’t angry, I did pull away. I kind of just stopped trying. And, in a friendship, sometimes that’s worse.
“Thanks,” I say. “That means a lot to me, really.” I leave it at that because I don’t want to harp on it. Being in Limbo means I get a shot at a new beginning, and I don’t want to spend my new beginning stuck in the past.
“So … what are we going to do about Georgia, then?” she asks me, smiling and turning over on her side to face me.
“I don’t know yet,” I say. “But she’ll get hers. Those kinds of girls always do.”
I don’t want to just talk about me-me-me, but I can’t help it—I have to ask, “So, what kind of stuff did she ask you about me, anyway?”
“You name it, she wanted to know it,” Cecily says. “She asked all about ballet, and a lot about Felix. Who was this Felix guy? Was he your boyfriend? If not, did you have a boyfriend? Have you ever been out on a date or kissed? Like, on and on and on … I mean, I’m your best friend and I was getting sick of talking about you so much!”
“Isn’t that the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” I joke. But the truth is, Cecily just called me her best friend for the first time, and that is the sweetest thing.
“I’m sorry! But it was getting seriously annoying.”
“No, I get it! So … what did you tell her?”
“Not much. I tried to avoid answering whatever I could by asking her questions instead. It’s surprisingly easy when you’re dealing with a total egomaniac,” she says, laughing. “Like, I told her Felix and you were just friends, and I said you were an über-talented dancer, which made smoke come out of her ears. Actual smoke! But when she started asking the stuff about boyfriends, I just redirected it. Like, how long have you and Colin been dating? And was he your first kiss? Yadda, yadda. People love talking about themselves.”
“And what did she say? How long have they been together?”
“Three weeks.”
“Solid.”
“I knew you’d be pleased.”
“I can’t wrap my head around why girls like her are so popular, and how they always manage to suck the nice guys in. Because Colin is way too nice for her, and everyone knows it but him.” I can feel myself getting worked up, but I don’t care. It’s so nice to talk to someone about all this!
“Well, maybe he’s not as nice as you think he is,” Cecily says, quietly. “I mean, if he can’t see all the mean and shallow things that she does, then he’s either really oblivious or he doesn’t think they’re as mean as we think they are.”
“Maybe,” I say, but I have trouble believing that’s true.
“If he’s really as cool as you say, and you guys really have a connection, he’ll smarten up about Georgia soon enough,” Cecily adds.
“Thanks,” I say, because I know she’s trying to be sweet and cheer me up.
“Cece?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re my best friend, too.”
It’s crazy how easy it is to get ready to go anywhere when you can’t change a single thing about the way you look. I can’t put on a cute new outfit, I can’t style my hair in that amazing beach wave ’do that takes hours to perfect but says, “I look like this without even trying!” I mean, I can’t even put on a layer of clear lip-gloss!
The good news? It can’t possibly get any worse. And if I can brave the Bowl-o-Rama like this on a Friday night and still manage to get in good with Colin and the rest of the gang, well, that’s saying something.
“You ready?” Cecily asks me.
“Like I have a choice,” I reply, throwing up my hands. “The wild, frizzy beast that is my hair will not be tamed, and I have to be okay with that.”
“Your beast is a kitten compared to mine! My hair is so static-y I look like I’ve been electrocuted. Something about the energy here … and everything is more terrifying with red hair, you know that.”
“I could argue with you, but I’d be lying. Then what kind of a friend would I be?” I joke.
“At least we have each other,” she concludes.
“Solidarity, sister! Okay, we should get going. I want to get there before Georgia McScary comes knocking and we have to walk all the way over there with her pretending she didn’t try to wipe me off the face of Limbo yesterday.”
KNOCK. KNOCK.
“Looks like we’re too late … ” Cecily says.
But when I open the door, I’m pleasantly surprised to see More-than-Just-Trey’s-Girlfriend Mia.
“Hey, are you guys heading over to Banchee’s?” she asks.
“We are!” Cecily calls, zooming over to the door.
Mia throws her hands up and lets out a relieved groan. “Thank goodness! Not to be mean, but I really don’t want to walk with Georgia and Chloe. I just … they kind of make my brain hurt.”
“From the moment we met, I knew we’d be lifelong friends,” I say, with a huge smile. “I mean, afterlifelong friends. Whatever, you know what I mean. So. Shall we?”
As we make our way through the hallways, my Georgia radar is on high alert. I can’t stop thinking about how evil she is! I wish I could just tell Colin that the whole sand blender thing was her fault, but I can’t. I don’t actually have any proof, and we all know how these things go. It will end up making me look way worse than it will make her look, and I’m so not falling for that.
Plus, she’s probably going to look totally cute tonight. How can I even stand a chance against her with Colin? I mean, looks aren’t everything. Her sparkling personality sure isn’t winning her any good citizen awards, and I know I can talk witty circles around her in my sleep. Still, that little voice in my
head that’s making me feel bad about the way I look keeps getting louder and louder. I wish it would shut up, but I’ve spent my whole life hearing it and I’m pretty sure my afterlife won’t be any different.
If only I could just not be wearing this leotard for a minute! Argh.
We manage to make it to the lobby and exit the dorm without running into her, and the second we get outside I breathe in deeply and let out a sigh of relief. I try to calm myself down, to wipe Georgia from my mind. And quiet down my mean girl voice. Afterlife is hard enough as it is without being my own worst enemy.
“Whoa, what just happened to your hair?” Mia exclaims, and she pulls a small mirror out of her purse. “It just totally flattened out.”
I take a peek and sure enough, my hair looks like it’s just been dried and styled. Loose, beachy waves. Just the way I like it.
“I have no clue. I wasn’t even thinking about my hair,” I tell her, which is true.
“Well, somehow you managed to harness enough energy to make a dent in your hairdo,” Mia says. “It looks great!”
“It really does,” Cecily adds. “So much for solidarity, huh, sister?”
“I didn’t even know I was doing it!” I cry.
“I know you’re trying to make me feel better by saying that, but it’s not working,” Cecily says playfully. “You don’t even need to concentrate to make yourself look like you just stepped out of backstage hair and makeup!”
“No makeup,” I correct her. “I didn’t do anything to my face.”
“Yet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I reply, but secretly I’m kind of proud of myself.
“It’s like that time before the City Steps summer camp recital when we both tried to do that makeup technique we read about in Center Stage magazine?” Cecily says, turning to face Mia. “You’re supposed to emphasize your cheekbones and forehead with straight lines of concealer, right? To make it stand out more from afar.”
Cecily is starting to laugh now, and I can’t help but join her.
“So we’re both standing there, concealer in hand,” she continues, “poring over the article, trying to follow every step, and we finish and look at each other and totally think we look awesome! We go out on stage thinking everyone is going to be lining up next show to get their makeup done by us. Well, of course, we get the pictures back a few days later and Lucy’s makeup did look amazing on stage, while I looked like I was performing a scene out of The Lion King.”
Ghostcoming! Page 5