Bad Girl Gone

by Temple Mathews

  You could have knocked me over with a puff of smoke. What the hell was she talking about? My self-esteem was taking a beating.

  “Yeah, I guess she was kind of a bitch,” said Brian. He looked uncertain, like he was just agreeing with her so she’d go out with him. “Right?” he said.

  “You didn’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Well, obviously not. She was a slut. Andy’s about the nicest guy in the whole school, and she was cheating on him.”

  “That sucks,” said Brian.

  “You might say that.”

  My body felt heavy, my stomach lurching. I watched them walk away. Brian was making his play, and by his body language, Ellie was shutting him down cold. Me? A slut? Cheating on Andy? What the hell was she talking about? The name David Petterson came to mind.

  I wanted to know for sure (was there someone else, too?) but it wasn’t like I could go and ask her or anything. I followed her anyway, until I rounded a corner and saw my mom heading right for me. She looked haggard, like she hadn’t slept for days. Mr. Hemming, my photography teacher, emerged from his classroom. I smiled immediately, then was struck with a weird feeling, too. I tried to remember what was up with him but nothing was coming into focus. He saw my mom and did a one-eighty, averting his gaze and rubbing his nose as he ducked into the boys’ bathroom. Weird. I had no time to ponder him, because I wanted to get closer to my mom, who was heading down the hallway. Where was she going?

  It only took her a minute to reach my locker, and she had a slip of paper in her hand. I moved closer and looked over her shoulder. She glanced at the paper, reading my combination as she spun the dial and opened my locker. I moved around her and watched as she slowly emptied it out, fetching my hoodie and a pair of tennis shoes, a jewelry box, and a ball of scrunchies. Then she found my stash. Some cigarettes and pot. Score another one for the bad girl. You think you know yourself and then you go and die and find out maybe you had a side of yourself that you weren’t owning up to. Mom tugged at her hair nervously and the skin around her eyes was bunched up. She froze. I saw goose bumps on her arm. Could she sense my presence? She let out a sharp, frightened breath.

  I instinctively rushed forward to comfort her. She was frightened and I entered her body. I hadn’t meant to, I’d only wanted to hug her. But there I was. I could feel what she was feeling, see what she saw in her mind’s eye. Her world was colored by a scarlet grief as images of me swam around in her brain. I saw her giving birth to me—Push! Push! Then hugging me, teaching me to read and swim and cook. Then I was a teenager and we had a screaming match over some cranky trifle.

  Flashing forward to after my death, I saw her open the medicine cabinet, take out a bottle of sleeping pills, look inside to see how many there were (it was full), and then put it back. I could hear her silently weeping. The sound had an eerie reverb. I couldn’t take it anymore and withdrew from her quickly. I ended up sitting on the floor, looking up at her. Her eyes were closed, and she looked for just this moment like she’d found a little peace. Then she bagged my stuff, shut the locker, and left the school.

  I had to find my killer. Maybe bringing him or her to justice would help ease her grief. It was time to fly back to Middle House. I had to seek out the one person there who I was sure had some answers. The enigmatic Miss Torvous.

  DARLING

  I turned the knob on her door. It was locked. I knocked.

  “Miss Torvous?”

  I put my ear to it. Nothing. The simple thing would be to pass through it but we tried to respect each other’s privacy here. So I knocked again. I thought I heard something. The hell with this. I passed through her door. She was lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, humming a tune, her voice childlike.

  “Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full. One for my master, and one for my dame, and one for the little boy who lives down the lane.”

  I wasn’t eager to crash this little nutcase party she was having for herself, but I couldn’t wait around forever for the answers I needed.

  “Miss Torvous? I’m sorry to bother you, but…”

  She sat up abruptly, and her head swiveled like a robot as she spoke to me. She was very different in this moment, her eyes actually appearing warm and friendly.

  “Darling…”

  Darling?

  “You could never bother me.”

  I blinked and felt a tingling in my chest. What was going on?

  “Come. Come sit with me,” she cooed.

  There was hardly any way to put it other than she looked really stoned. I wondered what her dope of choice was. I didn’t see any weed or pills or booze in evidence. I wondered if ghosts could even get high. I walked over to her. She patted the bed next to her and I sat down.

  “I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you.”

  She touched my hair softly and gave my shoulder a little squeeze. Then she pulled out the whopper. She hugged me. Miss Torvous. For real. Hugged me. The one person in Middle House who I was convinced wanted to bite my head off now showed me affection. Things were getting weirder by the second. I inhaled deeply through my nose and let my breath out slowly through my mouth. Then I made strong eye contact with her.

  “Um, I know you know more than you tell us; I’m thinking maybe you know why I’m here.”

  She blinked, then glanced around the room as though looking for answers. Her shoulders slackened. I had to keep prodding or I was never going to get anywhere.

  “Do you have any idea who killed me?”

  Wham. She looked like I’d just slapped her across the face. Someone in the room shrieked. My skin crawled. There was no one there with us. Miss Torvous hadn’t moved her lips. I slowly realized that the shriek had come from her mind. She’d manifested it audibly. She trembled and stammered.

  “What? How … h-how could you ask me such a thing?”

  She rose from the bed so fast she almost knocked me over. I stood up.

  “You must know. In fact, I think you do know…”

  I was scared but I had to get bold here. Maybe I’d get an honest answer out of her. She began to tremble.

  “I have feelings, you know,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “I appreciate that,” I said.

  “Don’t you think I have a heart? Or maybe you just think my heart is made of stone!”

  She picked up a vase and smashed it with such force on the floor that shards exploded everywhere. Then she gathered her composure, hugging herself tightly as she turned away from me and snarled in a guttural voice.

  “Get. Out.”

  It was like trying to have a conversation with a wild animal. It was time to leave, so I headed for the door. She whirled around—and had transformed again into Little Miss Wonderful.

  “Where are you going?”

  She sounded hurt.

  “Please … don’t leave me…”

  I moved closer to the door. Now her eyes blazed.

  “Do not leave. That is a direct order!”

  I opened the door, looked back at her, and shook my head.

  “Whatever happened to you, I’m very sorry.”

  “WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?”

  Away from this freak show, that’s where I was going. I slammed the door on my way out. I waited for her to follow but she didn’t. I walked away and heard the same crying coming from her room I’d heard before. Frickin’ spooky.

  As far as my murder was concerned, I was getting nowhere fast and I had no one to turn to for answers. It was going to be very lonely being a ghost. I walked toward my room but didn’t go in, because even though Lucy was perfectly nice, I didn’t feel like talking to anyone or listening to her purr. I swung by the dining hall but didn’t go in, even though as usual I was hungry. Instead I pilfered a bag of chips from the kitchen.

  Sitting on the roof, I could see for miles. I heard a commotion down below but after a minute or so it died down. The sun was setting amber, lighting
the world in a soft wash of color, and the surface of the lake was glass. A sailboat knifed by, rolling up a shallow wake. I opened the bag of chips and wolfed down a handful. Then I folded my hands behind my head and lay on my back. The pitch of the roof was steep and the tiles were cold and slippery, but I didn’t care. What was I gonna do—slip off, fall down, and kill myself? I looked up at the sky. I wished I could just float up into the clouds and leave this world and join the Afters. But I couldn’t. I’d seen how the game was rigged. I’d have to catch my killer and bring him or her to justice before I could ascend. I pondered what I had so far. Walker seemed the most likely suspect but he’d proven to be innocent. It was possible that I’d done myself in, but didn’t the kids all say Middle House was for those who’d been murdered? Suicide isn’t murder. I thought maybe I should cross my own name off the list. Then there was Denise. She was a first-class bitch but didn’t truly strike me as the kind of person capable of killing me in cold blood. I’d have to keep poking around.

  I heard Cole coming.

  “I was kinda hoping you’d come up and join me.”

  I lied. I hadn’t been thinking about him at all. But now that he was here, I was glad to see him.

  “Chip?”

  I offered him the bag. He dug a handful out. Tossed one in the air and caught it neatly on his tongue. Crunch.

  “It appears that Miss Torvous has lost her marbles,” I said.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what’s up with that,” he said.

  “Every day it gets weirder and weirder,” I said.

  “I know. I’m glad we have each other.” I could see him working some words around in his head.

  “I mean, we’ve only known each other for a little while,” he said. Oh boy, I thought, here it comes. Was I ready for this?

  “But I feel like…” he said, “like I’ve known you for, like, a really long time, you know?”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but I had to speak the truth.

  “I do.”

  We watched the sunset together, in no big hurry right then to do anything but just … be. Together. I wondered what it would be like spending the rest of my “life” in this state. Cole put his hand on mine. I got a little adrenaline rush and thought that if I could be with Cole, then maybe being a ghost wouldn’t completely suck. I’d been feeling so adrift, so disconnected; I ached for a human connection. I was touch starved and the feeling was gnawing at me. So I did the only logical thing in this situation. I grabbed Cole by the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was a long one, and it made me feel like I had bubbles flowing down my back.

  “Wow,” he said, when we finally disengaged.

  “Yeah. Double wow.” I was becoming quite the conversationalist.

  We were both self-conscious and blushing. Blushing ghosts. Weird.

  “That was totally impulsive and also irrational and I’m sorry if I—”

  I couldn’t finish the sentence because this time Cole did the grabbing and kissed me. The sun was just going down when he started the kiss. By the time we broke it off, it had completely set.

  “Now that was just … I don’t know. Majorly significant, I think,” I said.

  “Echo, I have—”

  He stopped because I stood up, walked to the edge, and jumped off the roof, my heart pounding. He ran and jumped after me and we flew over the trees, my fingers reaching down and touching the tippy tops. Cole found a suitable branch and landed on it and I landed next to him.

  “This moment,” I said. “It’s kinda perfect.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s not going to last, is it?”

  “It could if we want it to.”

  I pulled away and floated down to the ground. On a soft spot in the grass, I lay flat on my back and looked up at the night sky. Cole joined me. He tried to hold hands but I wouldn’t let him touch me right then.

  “Up there … while we were flying above the trees?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It was really cool. Until…”

  “Until what?”

  “Until I thought about how it was so much fun I couldn’t wait to tell Andy.”

  The joy of the last half hour dissolved. Cole looked glum. I couldn’t blame him.

  “I have to find out who did this to me. I can’t leave it like this. For me, and for Andy.”

  “I know. I’ll help you. I’d do anything for you.”

  “I think you would.”

  “Miss Torvous asked us to make sure you didn’t leave the premises.”

  “But you’re not going to hold me against my will, are you?”

  He thought about it. Not a good sign. Something awful was up with Miss Torvous and it involved me. I didn’t know what it was but I didn’t want to stick around and find out. I had business to take care of, and pronto. I left Cole at Middle House. He looked sad as I flew away.

  DANCE

  I flew through the night to Andy’s place, landing softly on his roof this time. No gecko-climbing for me—I had evolved. I passed through the roof and floated down into his room.

  “Andy?”

  He wouldn’t answer. He couldn’t hear me. But I liked the sound of saying his name. He wasn’t in his room. I lay down on his bed and smelled his scent. It drove me crazy. I rolled over and hugged his pillow. I looked at his corkboard and something stood out. He’d written “Fourth period?” on two separate sticky notes. Andy had a thing for sticky notes. They were goal setters for him. He’d leave them up until hell froze over or until he accomplished his written goal, whichever came first. What did he have for fourth period? I tried to remember—I was pretty sure it was Spanish but I wouldn’t bet my life on it. School seemed so far away right now.

  I poked around in his room a little longer, touching the shirt on the back of his chair and his black baseball cap. He had a picture of the two of us tacked on his corkboard and I gazed at it, feeling my heartbeat. Everything about me had changed. But I still had a heart.

  I heard music playing. At first I thought it was just in my head, but then I moved to the open window. It was coming from below. I went out the window and floated down into his backyard. Andy was lying faceup on the picnic table, staring up at the night sky. He was listening to a streaming station. The same one we listened to together. I moved over and wondered how I could ever get close to him again. I had an idea, but would it work?

  My fingers found the surface of the iPad. I chose a different song. Our song. As soon as it started playing, Andy began to tremble. The moon cast a bright blanket of pale white over the yard.

  “I miss you so much,” he whispered.

  “Oh baby…” I said.

  I could feel the heat from his body. I crawled onto the table and curled up next to him, laying my head on his chest. He couldn’t feel me—there was nothing to feel; I was nothing, not even vapor. How could I ever give him what he needed, the comfort of a girl? I cried softly to myself. Then he said, “It’s okay, Echo.”

  My body tingled. I jerked my head up, expecting him to be looking down at me. But he was looking at my picture on the iPad. He was talking to it. But why? Why, when I had just started crying, had he chosen to comfort me?

  He knew I was there; he could sense me. As our song continued to play, I was lifted up by hope. Maybe our love wasn’t doomed! Maybe it was so strong that not even death could destroy it. Andy propped the iPad on the table and got up and stood still with his eyes closed.

  “Wherever you are, I know you miss me like I miss you,” he said. “It’s going to be okay. It’s always going to be okay.”

  Then he started moving to the rhythm of the song. It was a slow song, so he just sort of swayed. I floated to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, and though I wasn’t really touching him, not like we used to touch, I moved in sync with him. We were … dancing. In the moonlight. It was almost perfect. The only thing that would have made it any better was if I was actually … you know … alive. But now I didn’t care. I just wanted to savor the mom
ent, bottle it up and make it last forever in my heart.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” he said. “I’ll never love anyone but you as long as I live.”

  I felt a thickening in my throat. It was like a dream. I held him close as he moved in his slow dancing circle. Could he feel me? I closed my eyes and begged the universe to let him feel my body against his. I was trembling.

  “Andy … can you feel me, my love? Can you please feel me? Just for a moment?”

  He stopped moving and his head jerked sideways. I could see goose bumps on his skin. I’d broken through the barrier. I’d gotten through to him!

  “ANDY! I’M HERE! I’M RIGHT HERE!”

  He shook his head.

  “I’m losing my mind,” he muttered.

  “No, you’re not! Kiss me, baby! Kiss me!”

  I put my lips to his. He was perfectly still. Was it my imagination or did he part his lips slightly?

  “Echo?”

  I kissed him deeply and passionately. He did not move.

  “Come back to me,” he whispered.

  It was romance in the moonlight and my heart was thudding with excitement. In a few sparkling moments, everything was going to be amazing; we were going to reconnect. Then boom—it all came crashing down. The backyard floodlights blazed on. A voice, gruff and unforgiving, intruded into our euphoria.

  “Who the hell are you talking to?”

  Andy’s dad, Hank, stepped out from the house. Andy’s body stiffened and he flinched, in effect tossing me off. I felt foolish—ragged and betrayed. Hank walked over and turned off the iPad, killing our song.

  “For god’s sake, son, you’ve got to stop this bullshit!” he said.

  Andy sat down on the table.

  “Dad, exactly what part of ‘leave me the hell alone’ don’t you understand?”

  “What I understand is that you’re getting worse and worse. She’s dead! You buried her! It’s time to move on.”

  I wanted to slap Hank so hard it’d make his head spin. But he kept up his tirade.

  “She wasn’t good for you when she was alive and she’s even worse for you now that she’s gone. Get it through your thick skull—she’s gone!”