“Bristol Blackburn.” I took her hand firmly and gave it a quick shake. I looked at the Metallica kid over her shoulder, who just shrugged.
“Right,” Maggie said, and we started walking again. “It’s right at the end of the hall. I did hear about a new girl coming to school here. It’s been all anyone could talk about. The Blackburn who left Spirit is returning. Very dramatic. Still, I was kinda hoping we could be friends. You know, being like roomies and all.”
“Huh?” I said.
Maggie blinked. “Oh, you know your old house? I live there. The one where your parents lived.”
“Right.” I nodded. “I don’t think I ever saw that house. And if I did, I was just a baby.”
“I’m sleeping in the room your mom and dad prepared for you. You should come by and see it.”
I sighed. I was never going to get rid of her. She was like a stray puppy. Once you feed it, it follows you forever. Not that Maggie was hard to like. She seemed real sweet and sincere. It was hard to be annoyed by her, but how was I supposed to keep my secret a secret if she was always around?
“Maggie has had, like, mucho bad luck in the amigo department,” Metallica Kid said as we made our way down the hall. “No street smarts, but I sense in her a true friend to the end. And she’s really got a bodacious bod if you ask me. Personally, I always liked a little meat on the bones. That Pricilla chick is too supermodel for me. You’re pretty smokin’, too.”
Metallica Kid checked me out, and I rolled my eyes.
“This is it,” Maggie said. “C’mon, let’s get seats in the back, and I’ll tell you all about school.”
“Be there in a sec,” I said as I dug around in my bag for nothing. Maggie ran inside and claimed a pair of chairs in the back. I looked at Metallica Kid.
“Thanks for the heads up, by the way,” I said under my breath.
“No problema,” he said and started to back away. “By the way, you can call me Jake. Hasta mañana, babe!” He gave me a two-fingered salute before fading through a wall.
I made it to my seat just as the bell rang. Maggie sat there, happy as a puppy that just got a brand new bone. I could almost hear her tail thumping on the ground.
So, to take stock of my first day of school so far, I had made my first friend in Maggie, my first enemy in Pricilla, and met my first ghost of the school in Jake. It’s good to work fast.
Later, when lunch came, I finally felt free to ask Maggie questions. She would most likely be thrilled to answer them.
Upon arriving at the cafeteria, I learned Maggie hadn’t lost any of her enthusiasm for our newfound friendship. In fact, the small separation seemed to have made her gusto grow. I found her holding a lunch tray, standing in the middle of the room, trying to find someplace to sit. There were plenty of empty spaces, but every time she approached a vacant seat, whoever was already sitting at the table would look up, causing her to shrink away.
I went up to her and indicated a table where there was room before proceeding to walk over and park my derrière. Maggie followed and sat opposite me.
“So, how has your first day been?” she asked.
I shrugged as I struggled to open my milk. “Fine, I guess. You’ve been there for most of it. Except math.”
“Yeah, I’m in Connoly’s class,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Stupid, really. Don’t see why.”
“What’s wrong with Connoly?”
Maggie shrugged. “Nothing.”
I wondered if it was a remedial math class and decided to change the subject to not embarrass Maggie. “So tell me something,” I said as casually as I could. “What was Pricilla saying about preferring the McKnights? Who are they?”
“Another family here in town,” Maggie explained. “Like your family, in a way. Seems to be dozens of them around. This town was built by Blackburns and McKnights.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” Maggie leaned in like she was going to whisper a deep, dark secret. “From what I hear, Blackburns hate the McKnights and vice versa. There’s some feud between the families that goes back years.”
I bit into my apple. “Any idea what the feud is about?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Maggie shook her head. “Nope, but whenever something bad happens to someone in one family, they always blame the other family, no matter what it is. If a McKnight gets in a car accident, it’s somehow the fault of a Blackburn. If a Blackburn slips and falls in the tub and kills themselves, it’s the fault of a McKnight.”
“That makes no sense,” I said.
“I know,” Maggie agreed. “But shouldn’t you know more than me?”
“Probably,” I admitted. “But my parents never talked about Spirit.”
“Wonder why,” Maggie said. “Well, I’m not close with any Blackburns or McKnights, but I’ve never had a problem with a Blackburn. Can’t say the same for the McKnights. Most of them seem like jerks.”
“Are there any around here?”
Maggie peered around the cafeteria. “Yeah, over there. Archer and Blasé McKnight.”
“Archer and Blasé?” I repeated as I scoped out the pair she was indicating on the far side of the lunchroom. “You’re kidding. What kind of names are those?”
“All the McKnights have weird names,” Maggie explained. “They’re also, well…kinda hot, if you know what I mean.”
Looking at the pair, I was forced to agree. They looked like teenage models you’d see in an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. One had dark brown hair, neatly trimmed, a square jaw and bright green eyes. He was wearing a T-shirt he magnificently filled out and blue jeans. His companion had blond hair that fell to his shoulders and blue eyes. He was taller and lankier, but still very easy on the eyes.
“I can see what you’re talking about. But you said they’re jerks?”
“Oh yeah,” Maggie said. “If you’re a freshman, one of those two will be the one to shove your head in a toilet or force you into a locker. They can’t seem to help it. Their grandfather’s really rich, so no matter what kind of trouble they get in, they always get away with it.”
What a waste of cutie pies.
“Oh, uh, look,” Maggie said under her breath as if the two McKnight boys might hear us from halfway across the room. I followed her gaze back to their table to see the blonde one stick his foot out just in time to trip another student passing by. The unfortunate boy was tall, thin, and more than a bit geeky. As he fell face-first, his overstuffed book bag went flying. Laughter ensued, not just from the McKnight boys, but from a good portion of the cafeteria.
What is it about this school and tripping people, I wondered.
The McKnight boys jumped from their seats and moved to the geeky kid.
“Archer, I keep telling you to watch your giant feet,” the blonde boy said.
“Sorry, Ian,” the dark haired one who must have been Archer said. “Let me give you a hand.”
Ian held his hand out, but I knew it was a mistake for him to take it. Archer started to pull Ian up and then let his hand slip from Ian’s grasp. Once again, Ian slammed into the floor, this time on his back.
The other McKnight boy, who must have been Blasé, chuckled as he reached down and grabbed Ian’s book bag. “You know, Ian,” Blasé said while peering inside the bag. “Maybe if you didn’t carry such a heavy bag around with you, you wouldn’t fall so easily. What do you have in here?”
I could feel Ian panic. Did the bag contain homework and reports that Ian had spent long hours working on, that he now pictured the McKnight boys throwing around the cafeteria? Or was there something more private that would cause untold humiliation if revealed in such a public place?
Whatever it was, we never found out. Someone else snatched the bag away from Blasé.
I gasped at the sight of the new arrival. It was Dream Boy. This time, instead of radiating with guilt and shame, he was angry. You didn’t need my abilities to know that. It was written all across his beautiful face as he glared at the McKnight b
oys.
“Something wrong there, cuz?” Archer asked.
Dream Boy didn’t answer. Instead, he turned his gaze upon Archer, who immediately shrank away. Blasé too went back to the table and sat down. Cleary neither was willing to deal with their cousin.
“Who is that?” I asked.
Maggie all but purred as she looked Dream Boy up and down. Who could blame her? As attractive as Archer and Blasé were, this one made them look like the ugly ducklings of the family.
“He’s another McKnight,” Maggie said. “The nicest and definitely the hottest of the McKnights. His name is Payne.”
Payne McKnight. What a name. But it fit him. He had a dark and brooding quality about him.
Payne walked to Ian and offered his hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Ian took Payne’s hand and was quickly pulled up. Payne handed Ian his book bag. With a nod toward Ian, and one last withering look at his cousins, Payne stormed out of the cafeteria. Ian hurried after him.
“Payne McKnight, huh?” I said, trying to sound unimpressed. “Not bad.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Please. I saw the way you were looking at him.”
I blinked at her, trying to keep a straight face. “And how was I looking at him?”
Maggie smiled and wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Like he was the man of your dreams.”
I nearly choked.
* * * *
Payne McKnight.
I’d been seeing him around the school for the last two weeks. We even had classes together. For the most part, he never seemed to notice me or anyone else. He kept to himself, looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
And while Payne hadn’t noticed me watching him, Maggie had.
If she wiggled her eyebrows at me one more time, I’d have to kill her, which would be a shame since I was really starting to like her. I’d never had a best friend before. I felt almost as comfortable talking to Maggie as I did to the ghosts that came in and out of my life on a regular basis.
I was adjusting. It was strange having meals with the family. They were loud and a little crazy, but I found myself laughing and looking forward to dinner with them more and more every night. I was starting to enjoy being a part of this family.
It was so different there than in the city. When I’d lived in the city things seemed very cold and informal. I’d left my family alone and they returned the favor. Not so here.
Uncle Mark asked me the other day if I was making friends in school. I told him about Maggie, but when he asked me if there was anyone else I was getting to know, I simply replied that there were a few people I talked to at school.
I did talk to people in school all the time. I just left out the fact that most of them were dead.
There was Jake Dispost, the boy in the Metallica shirt. He’d be thirty-six years old now if he hadn’t died in a car accident when he was sixteen.
There was Rose. I wasn’t sure of her last name. She didn’t talk much. I got the feeling she was a suicide, but I could’ve been wrong. She was a mousy girl, with short, dark, messy hair, dressed in a plaid skirt and sweater. I had the feeling she wanted to talk to me more, but she hadn’t really opened up yet.
There was one ghost that, if he were still alive, might not have given me the time of day, but as he’d been dead for an undisclosed amount of time, he was giving me an awful lot of attention.
Not that I complained about such a gorgeous guy hanging around. His angelic face and blonde hair in combination with his grey eyes were positively yummy. And when he smiled it was enough to melt a girl’s heart. I think he was thrilled to have a flesh and blood girl he could flirt with after all this time. He told me to call him Jay.
“Bristol, my darling,” Jay said to me the other day as we strolled along the stream. “If I could, I’d meet you out here at dusk with a nice picnic basket and a blanket. We’d eat under the stars together. Have you ever had caviar?”
“Nope,” I answered, not bothering to add that the thought of fish eggs wasn’t appealing.
“Peasant.” He smirked. “Well, I would introduce you to it. Bulgarian, of course.”
“Of course.” And for Jay, I’d probably try some.
I walked along the stream alone. I loved Zack and Simon, but there were times I just needed to get away from them. Zack was constantly throwing his football, and Simon threw around words too big for me to understand.
Usually, I never saw anyone when I took these walks, so I was somewhat surprised when I stumbled upon a young boy, a little bit older than Zack. He was dressed in jeans and sporting a blue T-shirt with the words New York Giants written across the front. His messy strawberry blond hair stuck out from under his blue Giants cap.
He was playing with a small puppy. It was a very cute picture, which would have been perfect except the little boy was getting awfully close to a place where the ground dropped out and down onto a rock bed. It was at least a six-foot drop—I’d noticed on a few occasions during my walks. The pup was providing so much entertainment that the boy seemed oblivious to everything around him. When the dog jumped up on him, he stumbled back a few inches and my heart leapt in my throat.
“Hey,” I called. “Watch out for the drop behind you.”
The boy blinked, surprised to see me. He gazed over his shoulder and saw the plummet that awaited him if he had backed up a few more inches. He turned back to me with wide eyes and a huge grin.
A deafening roar from an engine caused both of us to look up. Up on the hill I saw someone on a dirt bike smashing through trees and descending the rise at what can only be described as a stupid amount of speed.
Whoever this was, he was most definitely going to break his neck. The guy looked familiar, but I couldn’t get a good look at him at the speed he was going. He wasn’t even wearing a helmet! How did this idiot hope to survive?
I realized the bike was heading right for the drop off. Not only was that guaranteed to get him killed, but he was about to take the boy with him. I ran toward them and screamed, but the boy seemed frozen, his puppy standing in front of him, barking.
I was still about ten feet away when the bike came crashing onto the ground in front of the boy, and they all went off the side of the ravine, puppy included.
I sensed intense pain and realized someone was still alive down there and hurt badly. If he survived, I might need to get the boy to a doctor. And the puppy might need a vet. As for the idiot on the bike, well, he was on his own. I raced to the side where the slope wasn’t as severe and prayed that when I got down there, there might be something left of the kid to put back together again.
When the dust settled, I saw the biker on the ground untangling himself from his ride. He took a look at himself and his bike and shrugged.
He shrugged!
Man, I hoped he was okay so I could kill him. He looked at me, and for a moment I saw surprise and amusement cross his face.
Payne McKnight.
Whenever I’ve imagined how we would first meet, many different scenarios, some casual, some funny, even a few romantic scenes would play themselves out in my head.
This was never one of them.
Payne got up and dusted himself off as he walked up to me. “Sorry if I scared you. I’m fine. Thanks for the concern but…”
He suddenly stopped talking mid-sentence, which might have very little to do with how little sense he was making and far more to do with the fact that I started beating on his chest and screaming at him.
“You moron! You idiot! You, you…” I searched for the right word to express my very rational feeling of anger at his disregard for his own and anyone else’s safety. “You ninny!”
Probably should have searched a bit more.
“Calm down,” he said, clearly amused. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“Sorry you scared me?” I echoed. “What about… oh my God!” I screamed and started to look around. In my frustration with Payne, I’d forgotten the boy. I couldn’t feel the pain anymore and that
terrified me.
“What’s wrong?” Payne asked, confused. “What are you looking for?”
“The boy.”
“What boy?” Payne asked. “I didn’t see any boy.”
I stopped looking just long enough to slap at him again. “I assumed as much. Unless you would intentionally crash into some kid playing with his dog.”
We both looked around. Where was he? It didn’t make sense.
“What did he look like?” Payne asked.
“About ten years old,” I said, “give or take. He was wearing jeans, a baseball cap and Giants shirt. He was playing with a black puppy. He has to be here.”
Payne stalked over, grabbed my arm, and growled, “Are you sure that’s what you saw?”
I looked into his eyes and my stomach twisted. They had a dangerous gleam in them.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I responded, trying to keep my voice calm. “I saw him. He was up there on the exact spot you crashed through before you ended up down here.”
I glanced to where he held my arm and his eyes followed my gaze. I guess he realized how menacing he must have appeared because he let go and took a step back. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” I said, taking a step back as well.
“The boy,” Payne said. “Did you see the color of his hair, his eyes?”
“Yeah, his hair was like a strawberry blonde. Messy. I didn’t get close enough to see his eyes. I did notice the dog had a red collar on.”
“What kind of dog?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “What do I know about dogs? Floppy ears. Wagging tail. What does it matter? He’s got to be here someplace.”
“Where?” Payne asked.
It was a good question. There weren’t many places the kid could have hidden. Did he run off, scared? Could he have crawled into the brush? But the brush was fairly open. I stomped through it, looking, and finally came to the conclusion that he just wasn’t there.
Maybe he never was.
There have been times when I’d seen the dead and it took me a moment to know they indeed were ghosts. It was one of the many reasons I never made it a habit to hang around the living too much. If the boy I saw was really a ghost then I was in big trouble.
Vision of Shadows Page 5