Ever Lost (Secret Affinity Book 2)

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Ever Lost (Secret Affinity Book 2) Page 4

by Melissa MacVicar


  “I told everyone I shouldn’t be playing sports.”

  “I wish I was there. I’d totally take care of you until you felt better.”

  “I wish you were, too. Skype me tomorrow, maybe? After school?”

  “I will. Let me talk to your dad again, okay?”

  “Yeah,” I croak. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  I pass the phone back to Dad. He listens, offering yesses and okays, then he hangs up and lays the phone on the table. Dad sighs heavily.

  “What did he say?” I ask.

  Dad sits on the coffee table in front of me. “He’s worried about you. He told me how to take care of you. He sounded like a doctor.” He lets out a low chuckle then runs his hand over his cropped hair. “He told me to bring you water, even if you say you don’t want it. He said you don’t like people waiting on you, and he’s really worried about you.”

  I smile. “He’s a really great boyfriend.”

  “I guess. I’m afraid I’m not as good as your mother at taking care of you, though. This is all kind of new for me. I’m just going to do exactly what they told me to do at the hospital, okay?”

  “Okay.” I whisper because talking hurts my head.

  “Are you hungry?” Dad asks.

  “No. Am I supposed to eat?” The hospital visit is all a blur to me. The only part I distinctly remember is my dad finding out I’m on the pill when the nurse asked about my medications. I was surprised to find out Mom didn’t tell him already. I’d love to rewind this day and avoid that moment, as well as the soccer ball to the head incident.

  “The doctor said it was okay for you to eat if you want.”

  “Maybe some toast then. With peanut butter.”

  “Okay. I’ll get it.” Dad gets up and heads for the kitchen.

  I pick up my phone and text Ally.

  Me: Hey, did you hear?

  Ally: What?

  Me: I got concussed. At soccer.

  Ally: No way! R U ok?

  Me: I will be. How’s school?

  Ally: It sucks. I miss you.

  Me: Miss you too. Gotta go. Dizzy.

  Ally: OK. Love u. Get some rest.

  I drop my head back onto the pillow and close my eyes. Almost immediately, I drift off to sleep again.

  Mateo

  Chapter 6

  I wait for Blair in the small lobby area outside the locker rooms. She’s my best chance for getting Jade’s phone number. Kira already said no. All of Brittany’s friends act as though they hate me, except for Blair. Blair still likes to talk and flirt with me, despite Brittany putting a must hate him bounty on my head.

  Inconspicuous lingering at Layton isn’t an easy thing to pull off. Kids are always trying to figure out each other’s business. Two of my teammates come out of the locker room, and I pretend to be getting my water bottle out to fill up at the fountain.

  Several more minutes pass with various other classmates emerging while I fake-read the bulletin board. I’m just about to give up when Blair appears. Unfortunately, she’s with Anna. Anna isn’t quite as bad as Brittany, but she’s close. I manage to make it look as if I just happen to be leaving at the same time, and I fall into step beside Blair.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hi,” Blair answers.

  Anna just glances at me.

  I ask, “Good practice?”

  “Yeah. It was okay.”

  We proceed up the steps and past the cafeteria toward the main exit. Anna continues to ignore me.

  “Did you get that stuff in physics today?” I ask.

  Blair makes a face. “Sort of.”

  “I didn’t. This year is gonna suck if this is how the first week is going.” In reality, the physics topic wasn’t hard, but I need something to discuss before I ask for Jade’s number.

  “I know, right?” Blair says.

  We exit through the side door, and Blair stops on the edge of the pick-up circle. Fortunately, Anna continues on in the direction of the parking lot.

  “Bye, Blair,” Anna says as she walks away. “Text me later.”

  “’Kay!”

  I ask Blair, “Do you need a ride?”

  “No. My dad is picking me up, but thanks.”

  “Okay. Have you heard how Jade’s doing? That looked pretty bad yesterday.”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Do you have her cell?”

  Blair giggles. “No.”

  “Oh. I just wanted to check on her and see how she’s feeling.”

  Blair giggles again but doesn’t say anything. Girls always do that, and I’m never sure if it’s a good sign or not.

  “Can you ask Kira for it for me?”

  Blair eyes me. “Why don’t you ask her? I know you have her number?”

  “Because I’m asking you.”

  She lets out a little huff and looks away.

  “Come on, Blair. Just ask her for me. Please?” I give her my best pleading-puppy look.

  “Maybe she doesn’t want you to have it.”

  “She’s not gonna know you gave it to me.” I step closer and smile down at her. Perhaps I should feel bad about using my talents on Blair when I know she has a weakness for me. I learned pretty early on, around sixth grade, that girls liked me. I guess I’m lucky like that, being a good-looking guy and smart, too.

  Blair eyes me, batting her lashes. “You like her, don’t you?”

  “I just want to check on her. Please?”

  Blair sighs and says, “Fine. I’ll text Kira.”

  She reaches into her pocket and pulls out her phone. I take a step back to give her room. Then we stand together waiting for the response. I try to think of some small talk, but before I can come up with anything, her phone beeps.

  Blair glances at the screen then looks up and bats her lashes at me again. “What’s it worth to you?”

  “I don’t know. What did you have in mind?” I meet her flirting head on because I know she can’t hack it. She’s too shy.

  “Mateo!” She giggles, playfully shoving me away. “You are so bad!”

  Last I checked, she was the one being bad, but I give her my sexiest grin anyway.

  “Fine, I’ll send it to you, but you didn’t get it from me, okay?”

  “Of course not. This never happened.” I gesture back and forth between us.

  Blair sends me the contact information, and I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.

  “There? Happy now?” She smiles up at me.

  “Thanks, Blair.” I start to back away in the direction of the parking lot. “You sure you don’t need a ride?”

  “I’m sure. Bye!” She waves.

  “Bye.”

  A self-satisfied smile lifts my lips. Three short days and I got Jade’s number. I would have preferred her giving it to me, but getting it from Blair will have to do, considering Jade wants nothing to do with me at this point. I can be a real idiot sometimes, and that first day with Jade was definitely one of those times. I was trying to be funny and make her feel comfortable, but that totally backfired. Plus, I had no idea I was going to like her so much. I thought she was just another pretty girl at Layton, but there’s something about her. I can’t quite figure out what it is, but I know that I really like it. Maybe it’s that she wants nothing to do with me, but I think my attraction is more than just that. Whatever it is, I want to try to figure it out. And having her number is the best way to start.

  Jade

  Chapter 7

  Dear Jade,

  I was excited to receive your email. It’s always wonderful to meet another seer. We should have coffee and discuss what needs to be done at your school. Maybe one afternoon or over the weekend? Let me know.

&nbs
p; Sincerely,

  Connie

  Because of my concussion, I have to reread the message twice to fully comprehend that Connie has responded to my email and wants to meet me. I’ve been napping on the couch on and off all day, with Dad coming by every hour or so to check on me. When awake, I browse the Internet and stress about the schoolwork I’m already missing.

  Unlike Martin Fitzgerald, Connie’s pretty casual about getting together with me. Martin pressed me for stories and my location right off the bat. Granted, I was more open with Connie from the start. I hope she’ll be safe to confide in. I write back and tell her I can meet her tomorrow at a local coffee shop. Just as I hit Send, my phone rings with the generic ringtone. It’s a number I don’t recognize, but boredom makes me answer it anyway.

  “Hi, Jade. It’s Mateo.”

  I don’t respond right away, partly because I’m not sure what to say and partly because I’m still sort of cloudy and concussed.

  “Are you there?”

  “Yeah. Hi,” I mumble. “Sorry. I’m still sort of… messed up.” I wonder how he got my number. I really shouldn’t be talking on the phone with someone who is clearly intent on getting in my pants.

  “Yeah. I’m sure. Is it really bad?”

  “No. I’m better. I think I’ll be in school tomorrow.”

  “You should totally stay home. You can milk this for at least another day. Concussions get everybody worked up.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I can pick up homework for you and bring it by. Where do you live?”

  “Umm, I think Kira is bringing it. But thanks.”

  “Okay. I felt so bad when you got hit. You were looking at me, so you didn’t see it coming.”

  I vaguely remember what happened, and his description is most likely correct, but I don’t like him thinking that I was ogling him at the time of impact. “I don’t remember much.”

  “Well, you were running, but you weren’t looking where you were going. So when Lexi cleared the ball, you ran right into it. It hit you right in the side of the head. Anyway, if you’re better, you should come to Welly’s party this weekend. We can hang out. As friends, of course.”

  “I’ll see how I feel. I don’t know if I’ll be up to it.”

  “Okay. Talk to you later. Let me know if I can help at all.”

  Help with what? French kissing? Kira was right about Mateo. He’s pretty relentless. “Okay. Thanks. Bye.”

  I stare at my phone and consider adding him to my contacts. No. That would be a bad idea. I shouldn’t have a boy as dangerously sexy as Mateo Fernandez on speed dial. Even my concussed mind knows this.

  The only good thing about my injury is that I don’t have to play soccer. Coach sent Dad an email asking how I was and explaining the protocol for these situations. I don’t even have to go to the practices and act as a glorified water girl or anything because I need to “rest and recover.” I plan to capitalize on that as long as possible since soccer and I clearly don’t get along. If this was Nantucket, I could probably get a doctor’s note excusing me from all sports forever. My mom is a nurse, so she’s friends with all the doctors there. I don’t know if she’d do that for me now. After all, she’s the one who sent me here to attend this rich-kid breeding ground.

  Jade

  Chapter 8

  “You have to come tonight,” Kira says. “You seem fine, and it will be a great way to meet more people.” We’re in her car, on our way to Layton. Kira surprised me by being early.

  I stare out the window as we pass a huge colonial home. Beside it is a sprawling horse farm and then more stone walls. This place is teeming with stone walls. “I’ll see how I feel. And if my dad lets me.”

  Kira is as bad as Mateo when it comes to this stupid Kyle Wellington party. These kids are very serious about their parties. Attending is like playing a sport—apparently required. But I do feel better this morning, so I might go just to see what all the fuss is about.

  My phone vibrates with a text. I pull it out and read the screen.

  Mom: Dad told me you said there was a ghost at Layton?

  Wow, I didn’t expect that.

  Me: Yeah.

  Mom: He wasn’t sure if you were serious or not. Is it true?

  Me: Because I’m such a big fat liar?

  Mom: No, because he thought you just wanted to be sent back to Nantucket. But we should talk about this. Can you call now?

  Me: No.

  I don’t feel like explaining that I’m riding in a car with a friend right now, and I can’t exactly hash out my ghost problems in front of Kira.

  Mom: Are you safe?

  Me: Yes.

  Mom: Jade, please don’t be difficult.

  Me: How am I being difficult?

  Mom: Call me when you can.

  I wonder why she’s suddenly all worried about my safety. I’ve decided to take care of it on my own this time—well, with the help of Connie, of course. I don’t think I’m in danger of possession by Avery. I was able to hold him off once, and he doesn’t appear to be preoccupied with me in the same way Lydia was. At least not yet. He seems more interested in having me reveal some big secret about him to the world.

  Me: Driving with Kira. Will call when I get a chance.

  Mom: Okay. Have a good day.

  Me: You too.

  When we arrive at Layton, Kira pulls into her usual parking spot. Apparently, most kids use the same spot every day. It’s an unspoken rule, just like in the cafeteria, that you don’t take someone else’s place. How the pecking order was established, I’m not sure.

  “See you at lunch!” Kira calls to me as she runs ahead to catch up to a couple of senior boys. Her tight black miniskirt limits how fast she can go. Despite what the Layton handbook says about skirts needing to be knee length, I have yet to see that rule enforced.

  I walk along the path toward school, noticing how the morning sun glints off the pond to my right. I imagine there’s a memorial to Avery somewhere along the bank, and I’m struck with a sudden desire to see it. I have about five minutes until class, so I veer off and walk along the back driveway that leads to the gym and gardens behind the library.

  A minute later, I reach the small house near the pond and take the trail down to the water’s edge. The path is well travelled but trees and thick brush grow on either side. I spot a grassy area with a small, wooden cross planted in the middle. I get closer and read the inscription: RIP Mr. Avery.

  If only he were resting in peace… A bunch of deflated balloons are still tied to the cross. They lie beside it, half-submerged in water. The scene is a pretty pathetic-looking memorial. The pond water is stagnant and smelly, just like the ghost of Mr. Avery. The sunlight reflecting off the surface is the only thing that makes the area sort of pretty. On a cloudy day, the whole thing would probably feel more like a swamp.

  Two ducks squawk and take off, startling me. A chill runs up my spine, so I wrap my arms around my middle and decide I should really get to class before I’m late. There isn’t much to see here, and the creepy vibe I’m getting makes me in no rush to return to this spot. Water is supposed to be soothing, but the pond definitely doesn’t fall into the calming category. As I hustle back to school, I wonder what could have been so wrong in Mr. Avery’s life that he went in there.

  I should be focusing on Mr. Fraser’s lecture. It’s something about Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel, but instead of trying to take notes, I decide to use my paranormal mojo to evaluate the likelihood of Mr. Fraser being a perv.

  Fraser has a baby face with round, stubble-free cheeks that make him look younger than his twenty-six years. Even though he’s not chiseled, he’s not what I’d call fat either. His hair is cut sort of like Charlie’s, longish and falling across his eyes every once in a while, requiring him to brush it away.
He wears a starched, button-up shirt with a tie. His gray eyes are the kicker for me—piercing and disarming. When he fixes them on me, it feels as if he’s looking right through me.

  Slosh. Slosh. Slosh.

  “You see it, don’t you?” Mr. Avery whispers in my ear.

  He doesn’t materialize, so I shut my eyes and try to clear him from my brain, hoping no one notices.

  “Jade, are you all right?” Mr. Fraser asks.

  I jump a little and open my eyes. The whole class is staring at me.

  “Yeah. Just a little dizzy.” Thank God I have the concussion to blame. Otherwise, everyone at this school would think I was a weirdo for sure.

  “Do you need to go to the infirmary and lie down?”

  “No. I’m okay.” I grip my pen and look down at my notebook as if I’m checking my nonexistent notes on Michelangelo. Anything’s better than looking at the muted fog of his eyes.

  “All right. Feel free to go if you need to.” Mr. Fraser starts up again about the grandeur of the Sistine Chapel.

  I don’t believe I really need to know this stuff, but it’s the kind of learning that goes on here. They teach the kind of stuff that’s designed to make you sound smart at a cocktail party when you’re thirty, not woodshop or small gas engines like in Nantucket. Those would be too practical. These people will hire those things out. At least I have chorus. It won’t be the same without Ally, but so far, Ms. Doubleday is great.

  I’m just starting to feel sort of normal again when the projector light goes out. Mr. Fraser fiddles with the power button and tells someone to get the lights. But when a boy flips the switch, the lights don’t come on. This is definitely caused by the ghost. He’s acting up, haunting this class. I wish I could talk him down without exposing my secret spirit talent.

 

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