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Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More

Page 358

by Rebecca Hamilton


  “Can you make sure the burners are off?” She called to me from the door. “There’s cash on top of the television if you need it for lunch. There’s some there for you too, Casper.”

  “Thanks Mrs. Karr,” he waved and took a swig of orange juice.

  “Take care of each other, and don’t forget your inhaler. I’ll see you when I see you, sweetheart.”

  I smiled and she closed the door.

  She called ten minutes later to remind me not to be late for school, but there was no need. Casper and I were already a quarter of a mile down the road. He drove while I stuffed Pizza boxes and Dr. Pepper cans into a trash bag, the calling card of any night Casper spent in my car. DeSoto High was ten minutes from my house, five if Casper was driving, and school didn’t start for another half hour. Still, I was in a hurry. I wanted to get there early, and not just to study for the ‘pop’ quiz everyone knew Mr. Jenkins was going to give because it was the second Thursday of the month.

  Before I could bring it up though, Casper took the conversation in a different direction.

  “Is Mrs. Goolsby a slut?” He asked.

  “Mrs. Goolsby is eighty six and on dialysis. I don’t think she has the energy to be a slut.”

  “It’s just, look at that.” He pointed to her house. I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. It seemed normal to me. Sure the paint was flaking a little; revealing specks of white under its coat of brown, and the yard was a little overgrown. But that was nothing out of the ordinary, especially for a widow whose children were grown and gone.

  “What am I looking at? If Mom didn’t handcuff me to the lawnmower every other Saturday, our house would look just like that.”

  “Not the house,” he said, looking out over his black rimmed glasses. “The car.”

  At the edge of her yard, a black Sedan sat inches from the curb. The windows were pitch black and it idled softly.

  “So she bought a car,” I said. Didn’t seem so strange to me.

  “But she didn’t. That’s the thing. Whenever my dad kicks me out and I have to ‘borrow’ the inside of your car,” he put air quotes around the ‘borrow’. “ I get a clear view of Mrs. Goolsby’s house. Every night, without fail, a car pulls up and some random dude walks in.”

  “Maybe she has a friend,” I said. As gross as the thought of Mrs. Goolsby having a ‘special friend’ was, it was also kind of sweet.

  “You know, I saw this thing on TV the other day about gigolos. Apparently these dudes make house calls and stuff. I bet Mrs. Goolsby-“

  “Ew!” I threw an empty Dr. Pepper can at Casper’s head.

  Mrs. Goolsby with a gigolo? There was nothing sweet about that.

  He shrinked away laughing. “What? You were thinking it too.”

  “Actually, I was thinking you spend way too much time in my car.”

  I looked back at Mrs. Goolsby’s house in the rearview as we were about to turn onto Maple. The black Sedan was gone.

  “I’m going to tell him,” I said, tying the junk food filled garbage bag and tossing it into the backseat. I was careful not to look at Casper. I knew what he was going to say.

  “Not a good idea Cress,” he squealed into the school parking lot. Wow, he made it in four minutes this time. He left skid marks across the blacktop when he jerked into a space. I shot him a harrowing look.

  “I’m an excellent driver. I know.” Casper pulled the keys from the ignition, thumped them toward me, and stepped out. I followed, but he hadn’t stopped talking so, by the time I tossed the garbage and caught up with him, all I heard was the word ‘girlfriend’.

  That was enough.

  “Barely,” I said. “Owen barely has a girlfriend.”

  “How can you barely have a girlfriend? You either do or you don’t,” Casper said, pulling a stick of gum from his pocket. It’s like he constantly had to have something in his mouth.

  It was still early enough that the parking lot was pretty much empty. In a few minutes, the morning rush would begin, and the place would fill up- Well, as much as anything filled up in Crestview. Once the other students got here though, I’d have to be more careful. I didn’t want my secret feelings for Owen going public, at least not until I got a chance to talk to him about them first.

  For now though, I could be as animated as I wanted. I jerked in front of Casper. He didn’t stop, so we ended up walking toward the school face to face, with me walking backwards.

  “Unless the girlfriend in question lives on the other side of the country. Hell, maybe she doesn’t exist at all. He could have made her up. I mean, have you ever seen a picture of her?”

  I knew I wasn’t making any sense. Owen wouldn’t make up a girlfriend, but I wanted it to be true so badly that I figured I’d throw it out there anyway.

  I had been in Crestview about a week and a half when Owen moved here. I later found out from Casper that that was the first time two families had moved into town so closely since ‘probably forever’.

  Now I’m not one for kismet or anything, but you have to admit, as signs go, that’s a pretty good one. We became fast friends, not in the way Casper and I became friends. I could tell Casper anything. I could divulge my deepest secrets to him. There was no way I could talk to Owen like that, not when he had eyes that were deep blue pools and a smile that was electric.

  He was so much like me. We both came her from big cities; Sacramento for him, and Chicago for me. He seemed just as out of place as I did in Crestview; a farming community with dirt roads, no red lights, and a grand total of one general store.

  Maybe that was why everyone shied away from us at first. Only Casper, who himself would tell you how he stuck out in this place like’ Lindsay Lohan in an Amish church’ took a liking to us. It didn’t matter to us though. Owen and I always found things to do.

  Some nights, we’d sit beside the long abandoned railroads tracks, talking about how much we missed the sounds of traffic. The third Tuesday of every month, when the Christ Methodist Church played G rated movies on their outdoor projector; we’d sit in the back and watch Pulp Fiction on his iPhone.

  It never failed though. Every time we got comfortable, John Travolta’s face would disappear, replaced by those horrible words: Merrin calling.

  Merrin was the undoubtedly perfect girlfriend Owen had left back in California and, probably because I had the worst luck on the entire planet, she didn’t seem to have any intention of letting him go. Anytime it looked like Owen and I were headed out of the friend zone, anytime I dared to rest my head on his shoulder, anytime we managed a deep conversation, Merrin would give him a little ‘remember me’ ring.

  Not that I had any reason to believe Merrin would be threatened by me. Though I had never seen a picture of her, from the way Owen talked, she was just shy of perfect. Which was infuriating, because perfect and I, we weren’t even in the same county.

  “You’re gonna back into Hernando,” Casper said, grabbing my arm and pulling me to a stop.

  I pulled the inhaler from my pocket and took a whiff. I was out of breath. I must have been more nervous than I thought.

  The ‘Hernando’ Casper was talking about wasn’t a teacher or student. It was a statue. Hernando DeSoto was some sort of Spanish explorer. He marched through Georgia a couple hundred years ago and set up shop here for a while. That was pretty much the only interesting that ever happened in Crestview, so they named the school after him and put up the statue.

  It was probably nice when they erected it, about a thousand years ago. Now however, it was clear that, like the town itself, Hernando had seen better days.

  What was presumably once the picture of a braver pioneer; a striking man with a Spanish flag in his hand, his foot propped up on a rock, and a devilish smirk on his face, was now all but gone. The bronze was dull and dingy. The statue’s sharp lines and edges had been flattened with time, and that devilish grin was barely a grin now at all.

  “Forgive me Hernando,” I said, stuffing my inhaler back into my pocket. “Look
,” my foot started tapping against the pavement. Yep, I was nervous. “Long distance relationships never work, not even in the movies.”

  “That might be true, but it’s been working for them for about two years now,” Casper answered. The light tilt had vanished from his voice. “He has a girlfriend Cress, a girlfriend who is not you.” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt, and I don’t want things to get weird between you guys. Besides, if he doesn’t see how insanely awesome you are, he doesn’t deserve you.”

  Okay, that was sweet, and there might even be some truth in it. But I wasn’t looking for sweet, and I wasn’t looking for anything to slow me down. It had taken me close to two years to work up the nerve to tell Owen how I felt about him. If I let Casper talk me out of it now, good intentions or not, I might never do it. And I couldn’t deal with that.

  I ran a hand through my wavy blond hair, like I always did when I was trying to collect myself. “Look, I know you wanna protect me and everything.”

  “It’s cause I’m a Southern gentleman,” he smiled. We both knew there were a couple freshman girls who might disagree with that, but I let it slide.

  “Look at my hands, Casper.” They had traveled from my hair to the inside of my pockets.

  “Hands in pockets,” he said.

  “And what do hands in pockets mean?” I asked.

  His mouth twisted crookedly. “Means there’s nothing in heaven or hell that’s gonna get through that thick head of yours.”

  Casper knew me well enough to know that once I was set on something I was set. I looped my arm through his.

  “I’ve gotta tell him. That way, either way, at least he’ll know. You know?”

  “I know,” he answered, and squeezed my hand.

  We walked together into the school. Pushing through the doors, I turned to give Hernando once last glance, and saw what looked like the tinted black Sedan from Mrs. Goolsby’s passing slowly by.

  Chapter 2

  He Died Laughing

  I STOOD BY my locker, watching the only entrance Owen could come in, and waiting for him. He was usually early, which is why I made it a point to be extra early. I wanted to have time to get my thoughts in order, to sort of feel the air around me, and come up with exactly the right thing to say.

  I had been stroking these feelings for so long now, building it up in my head, that I needed to do this right. Even if he said no, even if he looked at me like some love struck idiot, I wanted to be clear.

  He wasn’t early today though. I must have ran my hands through my hair a thousand time, watching the door and trying to act nonchalant as other students started to pour in.

  I had never been the most popular person in DeSoto. Hell, I’m sure if you asked them, most of the other sophomores probably couldn’t tell you my name. They’d say I was the new girl, or Casper’s friend, or the chick from Chicago whose dad died. It’s not that they didn’t like me. At least, that’s not the way I took it. I always figured they sort of saw me as an outsider; an unnecessary addition that came along once they were set in their ways.

  Everybody in Crestview seemed to have known each other since forever; like they made phone calls from the uterus or something. Their mothers knew each other. Their fathers hunted together. Sure, the fact that my mom was head of nursing (and pretty popular come flu season) might have got me a little attention, but that only lasted so long. And, if I’m being honest, I never did much to garner any affection.

  Aside from Casper and Owen, for whom I had a different sort of affection, I never made much time for the kids in Crestview. They always seemed so silly to me; so small. They were obsessed with country music, with the DeSoto Excavators Friday night football games and, worst of all, with each other.

  Every day there was a new rumor. Claire Collins dumped Randy Gentry after she caught him cheating with her sister. Wade Reynolds got suspended for sneaking peppermint schmaltz into the boys’ locker room. Susie Townser spent six months in Wyoming, but it wasn’t for a spiritual retreat. Claire Collins dumped Randy Gentry again after she found incriminating pictures of the cheerleading squad on his cellphone.

  Those two were like Chris Brown and Rihanna minus the domestic abuse.

  It was like none of them could see past the town limits; like there wasn’t a whole wide world out there full of amazing stuff. I couldn’t live that way. I had seen that world, I had lived in it. So, if I didn’t exactly fit in in Middle-of-Nowhere, Georgia, well I could think of worse things.

  Owen wasn’t like that though. He was an outsider too. He was stuck just like me. He understood, and hopefully he would understand what I was about to tell him.

  If he ever bothered to show up, that is.

  “Bell’s about to ring Cress,” Casper said. He was standing next to me, his foot propped up against a locker, sucking on a bright red Tootsie Pop.

  “He’ll be here,” I insisted, scratching my face. I had snuck off to the bathroom to put some makeup on for my big moment. I mustn’t have done it right though, because my face was itching like crazy. Mom had never been the sort to use a lot of makeup. I guess when you spend all your time sticking needles into sick people; there isn’t much need for it. As a result, I never really figured out how to apply the stupid stuff.

  Still, I must have done it okay, because Casper hadn’t seemed to notice. Which is good because, if he did, he’d no doubt have a field day with it.

  “Maybe he’s sick,” Casper suggested through a mouthful of sucker.

  “Maybe,” I muttered, and ran my fingers through my hair again.

  He turned to me, pulled the sucker from his mouth, and put his chin on my shoulder. He breath was cherry and chocolate when he said, “Don’t kill yourself about it Cress. You’ve always got me.”

  I knew what was coming next; the same thing he said since the instant he heard my last name.

  “Casper Rhodes and Cresta Karr. Karr and Rhodes,” he smiled. “See, ‘cause cars drive on roads.”

  “I get it,” I said, ruffling his red hair. “You don’t have to kill the metaphor.”

  He scrunched his nose and peered at me from over his glasses. “Is that rouge?”

  Luckily, that was when Owen finally decided to arrive.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said and pulled away from him. He clanged against the lockers, catching his balance and tried to look cool in front of the freshman girls that passed.

  “How you doing?” He waved at them. “I totally meant to do that, by the way.”

  Not that it mattered to me, but Owen was less than his spectacular self as he drudged into the hallway. His black hair was still wet, presumably from the shower, and brushed lazily to the side, making it look like sloshed mud on his head. There were huge dark circles under his eyes, and he was pulling at his jacket, suggesting that, even now, he was still getting dressed.

  I walked toward him, a super bright smile plastered across my face; the same sort of smile I imagined Merrin wore when she was picking flowers, or surfing, or whatever it is perfect California girls do in their free time.

  “Hey,” I purred, and tilted my head a little to the left. I saw Angelina Jolie do that once in a movie, and the guy completely melted. She had a pistol strapped to her thigh at the time, but I figured it was worth a shot.

  “Did you do the math homework?” he asked, looking past me.

  Angelina Jolie, I was not.

  “I-“

  “I overslept. Plus, I didn’t do the math homework. Plus, I left a red shirt in the washing machine and now all my socks and underwear are pink. Plus, I think I have an inner ear infection.”

  Okay, so he wasn’t exactly Brad Pitt today either. But I had made up my mind. I was doing this. I brushed off everything he had said and put my hand on his shoulder. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something.” I stared at him, making sure my green eyes synched up with his deep blue ones perfectly. The look in them must ha
ve been telling, because this time he did notice something was up.

  “Is everything all right?” He asked, biting his lip, which he always did when he was nervous, and which I thought was just about the cutest thing ever.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just-“

  The bell sounded, cutting into my words. I felt his shoulder tense.

  “Can we do this later?” He asked. The rest of the student body was busy filing into their respective homerooms and I could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t want to be late.

  No. This wasn’t the right time.

  “Sure,” I said, and took my hand off his shoulder. He smiled that electric smile that had been front and center in my dreams since the day I met him.

  “Thanks Cress. Look me up at lunch or something, okay”

  “Sure thing,” I grinned.

  But then, something else happened. He leaned in close, his pool blue eyes inspecting me. I caught the scent of him on the air. I felt his breath against my cheek. For a second, I thought he was going to kiss me, and my heart started pounding in my chest like a jackhammer against pavement.

  “You have schmutz on your face,” he said.

  Okay. Not gonna kiss me.

  “Red schmutz,” he continued.

  He put his hand on my face and started rubbing which, if it wasn’t the most embarrassing moment of my life, would have probably been nice.

  “I don’t know. Maybe you should run to the bathroom before class.” He gave me a smile and a ‘We’re such great buddies’ pat on the shoulder, and then he was off.

  I almost limped back to Casper, who wasn’t even trying to hold in his laughter.

  “Not a word,” I said, but he keeled over, holding his stomach and howling in delight.

  “That was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said. “My tombstone’s gonna read: Here lies Casper Rhodes. He died laughing.”

  I had three classes with Owen before lunch; History, where I watched him struggle to stay awake through Mrs. Gilman’s forty three minute lecture about the Cotton Tax and its effect on the Civil War, and Science, where he chewed on the end of his pencil and stared out the window. I had never wanted to be an eraser so badly in my entire life.

 

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