by Minard, Tori
Caroline smiled. “I know exactly what you mean. I tried to tell my parents about Retro-girl and they laughed at me.”
She kept smiling at me and I wanted, more than anything, to go to her and tilt her face up and kiss her. The only thing that stopped me was Trent. It’s not that I didn’t want to hurt my stepbrother. Frankly, after everything he’d done to me, he had it coming. But I wouldn’t do that to her—make her choose between us.
Something in her expression told me she might be having similar thoughts. She twined her fingers together, her hands moving nervously against each other, blond curls sliding down over her face. She had delicate hands, slender fingers, the nails unpainted. Suddenly I wanted so badly to feel them on my skin that I started to shake.
I should leave.
Instead, I got out of the booth and went around to her side, sliding in next to her. “I’m glad I was there to help you out the night of the party,” I said in a low voice.
“You are?”
“When I saw you out there with those guys, I was scared for you.” I reached out and took her top hand.
She didn’t pull away like I expected her to. My thumb stroked across the smooth, tender skin of her hand, the fine bones beneath. She felt warm.
Her body inclined toward me. I eased a little closer, keeping her hand in mine. All I could think about was that kiss we’d had and how much I wanted another.
“I’m glad you were there,” she said. “I was terrified.”
“I would have killed them if they’d hurt you.” That probably wasn’t the best thing to say, considering my background, but she didn’t seem to think less of me for it.
She bit her lip. “Whenever I ask Trent to take me home, he thinks I’m being stupid. He doesn’t like having to do it.”
“If you were mine,” I said, hardly believing the words coming out of my mouth, “I would always protect you.”
Caroline glanced up at me through thick blond lashes. “That’s sweet of you to say.”
I leaned closer, all the while screaming silently at myself to stop. Leave. Like an idiot, I didn’t listen to myself. Her lips were so perfect, so soft-looking as they parted on an in-breath. My hand came up to cradle the side of her face as I bent down. Touched my mouth to hers.
Part of me thought she might slap me. Or push me away. Instead, she softly kissed me back. Her free hand came up to clasp the back of my neck, under my hair.
By now, my heart pounded so hard I felt lightheaded. My cock shoved at the inside of my jeans like it wanted to climb out and take care of matters on its own. I stroked my thumb over the silky skin of her cheek and sighed against her mouth. Her lips opened beneath mine and I pushed my tongue into her mouth.
Caroline gave a little moan as I tasted her. She angled her head, sweeping her tongue across mine. She tasted of the mocha she’d been drinking.
I let go of her hand so I could pet her back. Somehow my hand found its way along her rib cage to her hip, the soft flare that I found so enticing.
Her hands shoved at my chest. She wanted me to stop? The shoving continued as she pulled away from me. Panting, I let her go. It hurt. My whole body was focused on one thing only, and she wasn’t going to let me have it. Not that we could have done anything real in a booth in the coffee house, but still.
She scooted away from me on the bench seat. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
I hung my head. Damn. “I understand.”
“I like you, Max. I really do. But Trent and I—well, I’m not the kind of girl—”
“I said I understand. You don’t have to explain.” I stood up, unable to look at her. “I’d better go. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. Okay.” Her voice was just above a whisper.
I don’t know what she looked like as I left the restaurant. Kissing her again had been a dumbass thing to do, but I hadn’t been able to stop myself. I wanted to do it over and over.
Chapter 15
Caroline
Paige and I met at our usual spot in the cafe on the second floor of the student union. She had her black hair up in a messy French twist; she wore a pink twin set over skinny jeans and a pair of hot pink ballet flats. In that outfit, she put my sloppy ponytail, jeans and hoodie to shame. I sat down across from her and gave her the once-over.
“You look different,” I said.
“I’m meeting Dan later. We’re going to dinner and some other stuff.” She giggled. “He’s awesome. I really like him.”
Paige had broken up with her long-time boyfriend last winter after he’d cheated on her, so it had been a while since she’d dated.
“I’m happy for you. What’s he like?”
“Super hot. He’s an engineering major and he likes camping.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not my thing, obviously, but maybe I can learn to like it.”
I’d never been much for camping, either, although to be fair my family had done very little of it. I hadn’t had much opportunity to experience it.
“You never know until you try,” I said.
“So true. How are you and Trent doing?”
I took a long swig of my coffee and gave a noncommittal shrug. “We’re okay, I guess.”
“Now that’s enthusiasm.”
“I saw him kissing Tiffani.”
Her eyes almost popped out of her head. “What? Tiffani? Oh my God, tell me you’re kidding.”
“Nope. Not kidding. He apologized and said it’ll never happen again.”
Paige groaned. “That’s what they always say.”
“Yeah. Well, it pissed me off so much I went home early and met Max on the way.”
“Yum.”
I blushed and tried not to show it. Unfortunately, I have no clue how to control blushes so my efforts were useless. “He was really nice.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” Paige laughed. “You should see your face.”
Leaning across the table toward her, I whispered, “We kissed.”
This time, her eyes popped and her mouth fell open. “Say that again.”
“We kissed. Twice. It was...really good. Incredibly good. I didn’t know kissing could be like that.” I kept my voice low in case one of Trent’s spies might be listening. Which was totally, utterly ridiculous. Trent didn’t have spies and the fact I was so paranoid about him finding out was probably just an indication of how guilty I felt.
“Wow.” There was reverence in Paige’s voice. “You finally found one.”
“One what?”
“A guy who can turn you on.”
Yeah. Yay, me. “And it’s the absolutely wrong guy. The wrongest guy in the world, Paige. Why did it have to be Max?”
“I don’t know. These things are a mystery.”
“Do you feel the same way about Dan?”
“I think so. It’s been pretty incredible so far.” She smiled with a secretive glint in her eye. “I’m spending the night with him tonight. At his place. He has his own apartment.”
“Ooh. Big step,” I said.
“Yes, it is. I don’t think we’re going to get much sleep.” She tilted her head. “What are you doing tonight?”
“I’m on my own. Trent is going out with some friends. Girls not allowed.”
***
My delivery pizza was cold. I’d only eaten two slices, so I stacked the rest and crammed it into my tiny dorm-size fridge for the next day. With Paige at Dan’s and Trent out with his buddies, I was on my own tonight. It was just me, cold pizza, and a book.
Instead of studying, I went for a romance novel on my tablet. Curled up on my bed, book in hand, I escaped into someone else’s problems and tried to forget my own.
I’d been reading for a couple of hours when the temperature in my room dropped suddenly. It was like the normal, warm air had been completely exchanged with the air from a walk-in refrigerator. Shivering, I pulled my throw blanket around my shoulders. This building didn’t have air conditioning, so the sudden drop in temperature didn’t make any sense.
Th
e atmosphere in the room grew heavy. There was an odd feeling, almost like a pressure all over my body, and a faint buzzing sensation in my head. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I suddenly had the idea someone was with me. Watching me.
My pulse raced and my palms began to sweat. I didn’t want to turn my head. I didn’t want to see whoever or whatever it was. The intruder couldn’t be human, could it? Because I’d been in here for hours with the door locked and there really weren’t any hiding places big enough to conceal a grown human being.
As the feeling persisted, grew stronger, I forced myself to turn my head. To look.
She sat in my desk chair, watching me. This time, she wore a plain, off-white cable-knit sweater with her bell-bottoms. Her perfectly straight hair hung loose around her shoulders. Her face was a sickening bluish-white color and her lips were blue.
I screeched. She smiled and it was ghastly, grotesque, with those blue lips. God, if this was the kind of thing Aunt Jo saw, then it was no wonder she started drinking.
The girl mouthed a word. It looked like the same word she’d tried to say before, and I still couldn’t make it out.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
She repeated herself.
I shook my head, my whole body shaking. “I don’t read lips.”
The girl lifted a hand and pointed at me. Her lips moved again, in a different pattern this time. It looked like...
“Max?” I said.
She nodded and repeated his name again.
“You w-want Max?”
Another nod.
“O-okay. I’ll—um—tell him f-for you.”
The girl vanished. I didn’t even blink this time. She just disappeared. The air temperature immediately returned to normal. I could feel the warmth of it on my skin, but I was still so cold I kept the blanket around me.
My hands shook as I got off the bed. That had been real. Either it was real or I needed some major psychiatric intervention, and for now I was going with real.
She wanted Max. Max, the supposed magician and conjurer of spirits. After that kiss we’d had in the coffee house, I was nervous about talking to him. I’d pushed him away, told him no. How was I going to call him up and ask him for help? The thought made me cringe inside.
I didn’t have to go right to Max, though. Maybe Trent would come and help me figure out what to do. I speed-dialed him.
“Yeah?” he said, sounding annoyed. “What’s up?” In the background, loud music played and male voices laughed.
“You’ll never guess what happened to me just now,” I said, pacing as I talked to him.
“You know I’m busy. Can’t this wait?”
“No. I saw the ghost again. In my room.”
Trent snorted.
“No, really. I did. It scared the hell out of me.”
He sighed audibly. “Baby, get real.”
“Don’t you even want to know what happened?”
“Not really. I’d like to go back to my pool game.”
I laughed a little, even though it didn’t seem especially funny to me. “It was pretty freaky.”
“I’m sure it was.”
“I’m kind of still scared. Can you come over and keep me company?”
“No. No way. I’m not cutting my night short because you have an overactive imagination.” The hostility in his voice took me aback.
“Aren’t you at least concerned?”
“No. You’re fine. Call Paige if you can’t stop worrying.”
“Paige is spending the night with her boyfriend,” I said.
“Well, I’m busy. Find someone else.”
“There isn’t anyone else.” My hand tightened convulsively on the phone. “I can’t believe you’re being so uncaring. What if someone tried to break into my room? Would you worry then?”
“No offense, Caroline, but doesn’t that aunt of yours see ghosts and shit? What was her name? Janine? Jerri?”
“Jo,” I said, feeling like I was shrinking inside.
“Maybe you should stay away from that kind of thing. You know? You don’t want to end up like her.”
That was pretty much the same thing my parents had told me ever since I’d been a little girl and Aunt Jo had gone off the deep end.
“I’m not like Jo,” I said. “She’s crazy and an alcoholic.”
“I’m just saying you don’t know how it started with her. It’s probably not a good idea to encourage it.”
“I’m surprised you want to be with me if you think I’m on the edge of losing my mind,” I snapped. “And I wasn’t encouraging it. It happened on its own, without any encouragement from me.”
“I’m just saying—”
“That even thinking about ghosts could push me over the edge.”
Trent gave a long-suffering sigh. “That’s not what I meant. At all.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think you believed in that spooky crap anyway.”
“I don’t. Didn’t.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not sure what I believe in anymore.”
“Well, ghosts aren’t real. They’re just people imagining things and wishing they were real. That’s all. So don’t worry about it.”
“Okay.” Whatever. Clearly, he didn’t understand and wasn’t about to try.
“I’m going back to my game now. You’ll be fine.” He ended the call.
My head hurt. My boyfriend, who claimed to love me, couldn’t be bothered to cut short a pool game and a night of drinking with his buds to help me. He was...he was...I didn’t know what he was. But I was furious with him, that much was clear. He seemed to think he could do and say whatever he wanted and I’d always be here waiting for him.
Those days were over. I wasn’t waiting for Trent anymore. He didn’t deserve it.
I could still feel a lingering sense of presence in the air, like Retro-girl was waiting for me to keep my promise. Like she was on the other side of some invisible barrier, where she could watch me. Monitor me.
The ghost had asked specifically for Max. I had to call him, no matter how squirmy it made me feel. I turned my phone on again. My hands were shaking and moist and I almost dropped it. My fingers trembled on the screen as I called up my contact list. Max’s number was listed right after Trent’s. The call connected, and The Decemberists’ “Rise To Me” played in my ear.
“Caroline?” Max sounded more wary than surprised.
“Can you come over tonight?” I blurted before I could lose my nerve.
There was a long pause.
“What’s going on? You sound upset.”
“I saw that ghost again.”
“I’ll be right over.”
No questions asked. No mockery. Trent had given me all kinds of grief, but not Max. Instantly, I felt better, less alone.
I popped off the bed and paced, holding onto my elbows. The air still held an icy edge, although I could tell it had returned more or less to its normal temperature. That eerie sense of being watched lingered too, and I didn’t know if it was real or only my imagination.
The ghost had been real. I was sure of that now. But was she really still here, lurking in some other dimension where I couldn’t see her? I felt like she was, but I really didn’t know for sure. Maybe Max could tell me.
I didn’t like being here alone. With her. I could go down to one of the lounges to wait. The first floor, maybe, or just stand by the front door so I could catch him when he came in. That way I’d be sure not to miss him. Because if I stayed here by myself, I was going to go nuts from the tension.
There was a knock at my door. I jumped to open it. Max. I almost sagged to the floor in relief when I saw him. He wore the same leather jacket he’d had on the night of the party, and he looked way too sexy.
“How did you get here so fast?” I said, staring at him.
“I was in the area.”
“That’s weird. Do you know how weird that is?”
>
He smiled wryly. “Yeah, I do. I have pretty good intuition.”
“So this is like that other night? You just had a feeling you needed to be somewhere around here?”
“Yep. Do you want me to come in?”
“Yes. Sure.” I stepped back from the door. “Thank you for coming.”
“No problem. So this is the third time you’ve seen her?”
I shut the door. “Actually, it’s the fourth. She made an appearance last Sunday morning, too.”
“Okay.” He walked slowly through the tiny open space of my room, an odd sort of detached look on his face, as if he heard music no-one else could hear. “What was that like?”
“She tried to say something to me, but she couldn’t make any sound and I couldn’t read her lips.”
He stopped walking to stare at me. “She actually tried to talk to you?”
“Yeah. She got really frustrated when I couldn’t tell what she was saying.” And now I had to deliver the big news. “Max, she asked for you tonight.”
He frowned, his stare growing even more intent. “Me? She asked for me by name?”
“Yes. I even asked her if I had it right and she nodded.”
“Weird.”
I gave an anxious laugh. “If you think it’s weird, it must be truly bizarre.”
Max sat down on my bed as if his legs had given out. “Did she say why she wanted me?”
“No. Your name was the only thing I could understand out of what she said.”
“Did she threaten you in any way?”
“No. But she looked really scary. She looked dead. Her face was this disgusting white color and her lips were blue.”
He rubbed his stubbled chin, still frowning. “Hmm. Okay, she shows up here three times, trying to say something to you. And when she finally gets a message through, it’s my name. Was she trying to talk when you saw her on the street?”
“No. That time she just stood there looking at me. If I hadn’t seen her in my room, I would have thought she was a regular person.” I sat down next to him, keeping plenty of room between the two of us. “She was dressed very retro. Bell-bottom jeans and embroidered tunics and headbands. She looks kind of like a flower child.”
“Maybe she died during the late sixties or early seventies.”