by West, Tara
“What’s that flashy thing sayin’, Emmy?” Gertrude asked.
I nudged Sophie. “What’s wrong?” But I was afraid of her answer. Why did they need a historical battle to protect their sanctuary?
Folding trembling hands in her lap, Sophie looked to the ceiling, then to me with worried eyes. “I don’t think their graves are protected under the Preservation Act.”
“What about that it’s been my home over one hundred years?” Ed pounded the air with both fists.
The pictures on the walls shook with a sudden, violent force, causing one to fall off its hook and shatter on the floor.
“Oh-mi-god, Krysta!” Sophie gasped and then grabbed hold of my arm, nearly breaking skin with her nails.
“Easy, Sophie,” I soothed, while pulling my arm free from each claw. I narrowed my eyes at the spirits above. “We’ll find a way, Ed. Calm down, you’re scaring Sophie.”
“I think I wet my pants,” Sophie squeaked.
“Don’t worry,” I spoke while flinching as I pried her fingers from my skin. “He’s not mad at you.”
Her eyes looked ready to bulge out of their sockets. “Well, that’s good to know, I guess.” She let out a burst of nervous laughter before slapping her hand over her mouth.
“Did your mom have any other options?” Despite the severity of the situation, I almost lost it myself. I mean, Sophie looked pretty funny when freaked. I wondered if she really did piss her pants a little.
“No, not really.” She spoke through a shaky voice while her gaze darted from me to the ceiling. “Lots of people said that old cemetery was haunted. Maybe we can spook the developers away.”
“I doubt it.” I grimaced at the thought of Ed and Gertrude haunting away the construction crew. How much could those two do to scare them? Besides, all the developers had to do was throw some concrete over a few graves and they’d be off to build another mall somewhere else.
Sophie gasped, then her eyes bulged.
Oh, crud. I’d seen that look before.
Sophie had an idea. Or what AJ and I liked to call, “A brain fart.” Some of her schemes over the years have been pretty crazy.
“What if...” She sucked in a large breath of air before speaking on a rapid exhale. “We get the news involved?”
My limbs froze. “The news?” How did I know she’d go overboard with this?
“We could hold a protest.” She jumped to her feet, slapping both hands together.
“Like with picket signs?”
“Yeah!” she squealed.
Above us, Ed and Gertrude hooted and hollered in approval.
As I looked at their beaming faces, the edges of my lips tilted up in a forced smile and I tried to look enthused.
“Super,” I spoke through clenched teeth.
Why couldn’t I just shrink into the carpet?
The news media meant lots of exposure and that was the last thing I wanted. I was hoping I could just quietly stop this thing. Maybe walk into the developers’ office with an official notice and be done with it. I didn’t want television cameras and reporters asking questions.
The kids at Greenwood wouldn’t just think I was a total weirdo; they’d hate me, too.
I should have known this would happen either way. I mean, my life was doomed to suck.
Chapter Ten
“Bryon, the test’s in two days. Are you ready?”
“I will be.” Turning his pale eyes on me, he smiled faintly before that glazed-over look returned. Slightly rocking from side to side on the tall kitchen barstool, he toyed with his pen while looking somewhere off in the distance.
There he goes again.
My science partner was off in space. After nearly an hour, we’d only gone through the first ten elements. I’d thought having a partner was supposed to make studying easier. He kept staring at the wall or his refrigerator, zoning out by the time we reached neon.
Studying in his house was distracting enough without him adding to it. While we sat in a room as large as my entire apartment, the housekeeper would barge in every five minutes. She swept under the table twice and offered us soda and cookies at least five times.
She was more like a babysitter than a housesitter, spying on the teenagers to make sure we weren’t making out on the table.
As if.
He was more turned on by a fly on the wall than by me.
Oh, yeah, and that plate of cookies he’d demolished in about five minutes.
“How are you going to memorize all the elements in two days if you’re too busy watching the paint peel?”
He turned his gaze on me again, his cool orbs narrowing. “Why do girls hook up with guys like him?”
“What?” I blurted.
Face hardening, he jutted his chin. “Why did Sunny go out with him?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Low self-esteem, I guess.”
Talking about Sunny was the last thing I wanted to do now. I only thought about her every other minute. How could I erase her empty, agonized expression from my brain? Bryon was bringing up memories I was trying hard to forget, at least until this science test was over.
Jabbing his finger at me, he raised his voice. “Don’t ever do something that stupid.” The anger in his eyes was tangible, as if someone had lit a fire in his brain and steam was shooting out of his eye sockets.
What the heck?
Was he adding stupid to my growing list of flaws?
“Are you my parent now?” I snapped.
He jerked back, as if struck by verbal lightning. His eyes shot open and his mouth fell; for the briefest of seconds, he looked…hurt.
Bryon was sending all kinds of signals.
And guys say girls are confusing.
“No.” His denial was barely audible.
My heart plunged. I instinctively reached out and squeezed his hand.
With a soft smile, he turned his hand inward and cupped my palm. The feel of his warm skin on mine was electric, like thousands of tiny little buzzing bugs were tickling my palm.
I didn’t have much experience with the opposite sex. Keeping up with the latest fashion and celebrity news was practically a full-time job. Who had time for guys? But I had to believe his electrifying touch meant something.
Clearing my throat, I tried to speak through a shaky voice. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” Dipping his chin, his gaze focused on our joined hands before he tilted his head back up and batted long, pale lashes. “Not all guys are pigs.”
He squeezed my hand tighter, a faint smile playing on his lips.
That’s when the pain hit my chest. I hadn’t felt this before, but I quickly recognized the sensation.
Panic.
For some reason, I didn’t like him holding my hand anymore. He was making me way too nervous. First anger, then sadness, and now he was flirting? This guy’s emotions were way too mixed up.
“I know you’re not a pig,” I said while pulling from his grip. “It’s just that Sunny wasn’t very nice and you didn’t know her.”
“No, I didn’t know her.” He spoke through a clenched jaw, his voice rising with each syllable. “I know girls like her. She’s not the first woman to be murdered by a crazy boyfriend.” He ended on practically a yell.
I jumped back, feeling the force of his words rattle through me. “Bryon.” I held out both palms. “You’re getting a little too weird.”
For the longest moment of my life, he just stared at me with this kind of hurt and angry expression, his face turning an ashen white, kind of like he was holding in his breath.
Holy crap!
He was holding in his breath.
I didn’t blink or make any sudden movements, because I honestly was afraid of his next reaction. Finally, his shoulders slackened, as he took a big breath. To say this guy was on edge would have been a major understatement.
“Maybe we should talk about something else, like science,” I stammered.
&
nbsp; His lips turned into a pout. “Hydrogen is H.”
Though he had me totally freaked out a few moments ago, I couldn’t help but smile at his cute expression. “That’s great,” I laughed. “You only have a hundred and two more.”
One side of his mouth hinted at a smile as his gaze found mine.
I was lost once again in a pair of radiant blue eyes.
He was so cute.
I was so stupid.
Bryon had issues and I had enough of my own problems without adding a crazy boyfriend to the list.
“How’s the study session going kids?”
I jerked at the sound of a man’s booming voice from behind my back.
“Okay,” Bryon answered in a cool tone, turning his gaze to his textbook as if he’d suddenly found The Periodic Table of the Elements to be the most fascinating thing on earth.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to the lovely lady?” A man in a perfectly tailored business suit came up beside us. I recognized him from the other morning when the police questioned us in Sparks’ office. He was tall, with short, pale blond hair which was graying at the temples. Other than a few lines around his eyes and mouth, he looked exactly like Bryon.
“Krysta.” Without looking at either of us, Bryon pointed to me with his pen. “This is my dad,” he answered in a monotone, like he was completely bored by our presence.
I wanted to reach across the table and slap him.
“Cliff Thomas.” Bryon’s dad held out his hand, smiling warmly. “How do you do, Krysta?”
“Fine.” My hand was swallowed in his firm grip as he practically shook my arm off.
Was this whole family crazy?
“Would you like a soda or some cookies?” He motioned to the heaping pile of assorted junk food spread out on the counter.
“No, thank you.”
Great, even Bryon’s dad wanted to fatten me up.
“We’re trying to study, Dad.” His voice was no longer dull, but laced with attitude, as he kept his gaze firmly glued to his book.
“That’s great.” Mr. Thomas beamed before clasping Bryon on the shoulder.
Bryon jerked away, acting as if he’d been scalded.
I had to hold in my gasp at the look of hatred in Bryon’s narrowed eyes as he locked gazes with his father.
Mr. Thomas pulled back, locking a fist by his side. His expression fell, before he plastered the smile on again. “Listen, I’m going to be using the living room. Some business associates are coming over for cocktails.”
“So you want me to stay out of your way?” Bryon growled.
Closing his eyes on an exhale, Mr. Thomas opened them again, looking at Bryon with a soft expression. “I thought we already had this discussion, son.”
“We’ll just go study by the pool. You won’t even know we’re here.”
“It’s breezy outside. I think your friend would be more comfortable in the house.”
“Make up your mind,” Bryon spoke through gritted teeth.
“Do we have to go through this again? I want you here, Bryon.” Mr. Thomas’ shoulders slumped, making him look like a deflated balloon. “I’ve always wanted you.”
Bryon rolled his eyes. “As long as I’m invisible.”
“No, as long as you don’t mouth off to me in front of my clients like you did last time. Now you and your friend are welcome to stay here in the kitchen. Heck, you can even come in and introduce yourself to my guests. Just please, try to act like my son tonight and not some angry, rebellious teenager.”
“Okay,” Bryon spoke through gritted teeth. “Now that you’ve totally embarrassed me in front of my friend, I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior around yours.”
“Bryon, please, these are department store executives.” Holding his palms out, Mr. Thomas sounded like a convicted criminal begging for mercy. “They could mean big money to The Crossover Project.”
“The Crossover?” I blurted without thinking.
Mr. Thomas’s head snapped to me and he plastered on an enormous grin. “I see you’ve heard of our new mall. Then again, you are a teenage girl.”
“Uh,” I stammered. “Yeah.” But inside I felt like screaming ‘No!’ As if my life couldn’t suck any more, Bryon’s dad was connected to the mall project.
Something flashed in Mr. Thomas’s eyes as he looked at me like I was a mouse and he was a cat ready to pounce. “Maybe if things go well tonight, I’ll have a few mall gift cards for you.”
I swallowed a lump of regret in my throat. His proposition was wrong on so many levels. I knew I’d have to refuse his gift cards and not just because he was using me to get to Bryon. This mall was desecrating Ed and Gertrude’s gravesites.
Why did this have to happen to me?
I wanted those gift cards. I really wanted them.
“Real smooth,” Bryon sneered. “Bribe Krysta because it won’t work on me.”
“I was just trying to be nice to your girlfriend.” Shrugging, Mr. Thomas winked at me before walking to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, Mr. Thomas drank slowly while eying both of us. I pretended to study, but I couldn’t get anything done with so much running through my brain.
For a long while, none of us said a word, which made the whole situation even weirder. It seemed Bryon argued with his dad about everything, so why didn’t he correct him when he called me his girlfriend?
Did Bryon think I was his girlfriend? If so, he’d forgotten to share the news with me.
Finally, Bryon threw down his pen and exhaled slowly. “I won’t bother your clients.” His voice sounded tired, strained. “Now will you let us study?”
“Okay, then.” Mr. Thomas pushed off the counter and threw his bottle in the trash. “You kids have fun.” He walked out the door without a glance at either of us.
I sat there for a moment, watching as Bryon continued to stare at the same page in his chemistry book.
What was I supposed to say in a situation like this?
Luckily, I’d had some experience with father/child misunderstandings. “Wow. I thought things were bad with my dad,” I blurted.
“I hate him.” Bryon spoke in a low, cold voice, his brow marred with several deep creases.
What had his dad done to make Bryon hate him so much? Suddenly, I felt like I really didn’t know Bryon—this supposedly cute, sweet guy who sat next to me in science class. Where was the caring guy who’d stood up for Sunny at the café a few nights ago?
“Hate is a pretty strong feeling, Bryon.”
He looked up while plastering a passive expression on his face, like everything between him and his dad was okay. Like, suddenly, he didn’t have any more issues.
But the guy had lots of issues.
“Are we going to study or what?” He shrugged, feigning a smile.
“Sure.” I nodded, trying my best to act like I wasn’t totally freaked out by our study session.
****
The drive home from Bryon’s house was almost as weird as our study session. When Mrs. Dawson came to get me, Mr. Thomas acted like a total jerk and flirted with her, even asking to take her to dinner. Didn’t he notice the totally huge rock on her finger?
Mrs. Dawson didn’t seem to mind. She just turned her nose up at him before walking me to the car.
I cringed as I heard Bryon in the background yelling at his dad.
“You must have had a delightful evening.” Mrs. Dawson slanted me an all-knowing smile.
I shrugged, not wanting to go into the awful details with her. When she didn’t press the issue, I wondered if she already knew what went on. If she’d spied on me and Bryon with her powers. Would she really invade my privacy like that? I almost thought I heard AJ’s voice in the back of my brain.
Heck, yeah, she would spy. My mother is so nosy. Maybe she thought that was her job. She was responsible for me while I stayed with them. After the lake incident, I guess I lost her trust.
But I still
didn’t like it. Even Ed and Gertrude were nice enough to give me some alone time tonight.
Sighing, I brushed a frizzy lock behind my ear. I just wanted to go home. I wanted to have my own bathroom to do my makeup and not be forced to share one with AJ, her disgusting brother and his zit juice collection.
Gag. Why didn’t anyone clean the bathroom mirror?
Besides, Ed, Gertrude and I could talk freely without worrying about freaking anyone out. Even though the dead were kind of a pain in the butt, they were still easier to get along with than the living.
“We have to pick up AJ at the softball field.” Mrs. Dawson flipped her long blonde tresses behind one shoulder. “I brought you some company for the ride.”
“Surprise!” Sophie squealed as she jumped out of the back of Mrs. Dawson’s car and pulled me back in with her.
A wave of relief washed over me at seeing my best friend. Someone I could talk to about Bryon and my crazy night with him and his dad. Besides, who better to get to the root of his problems than a mind reader?
“How’d it go?” Sophie’s eyes bulged and her voice held a note of fear, like she was expecting me to have a terrible time.
I looked at my friend with suspicion. Had Mrs. Dawson spied on me and Bryon and then told Sophie what she saw?
Mrs. Dawson slid into the seat in front of us and, thankfully, flipped open her phone. I didn’t want her invading any more of my personal life.
“There’s something wrong with Bryon,” I whispered to Sophie.
“Yeah.” She nodded all too eagerly. “I wanted to tell you.”
I looked at Mrs. Dawson. Her eyes were on the road as she seemed to be into her phone conversation.
I leaned toward Sophie, keeping my voice low. “Have his bad thoughts been popping in your brain lately?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. That’s why I worried that tonight would be a disaster.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I bit on my lower lip, almost afraid of Sophie’s answer and wondering why she never mentioned anything about this before.
“Because I know you like him.” Mouth turning into a pout, she dropped her gaze to her lap, toying with her fingers. “I was going to tell you tonight, I promise.” She leaned over and clasped my hands in hers. “I just didn’t want to make you mad, like I got when AJ told me to ditch Jacob.”