Ever Lost (Secret Affinity Book 2)

by Melissa MacVicar

  “No. I don’t need a babysitter. I can handle him myself.” I place my hands on my hips.

  Mateo eyes me skeptically and runs his hand through his hair in a way that reminds me of Charlie. Damn. I shouldn’t think about him right now.

  “I’m fine. Really. Go to practice.” I bob my head toward the stairs. “I’ll even let you give me a ride home if that makes you feel better about it.”

  Mateo exhales a big breath. “Okay. Meet me in the lot at five. Promise?”

  “Promise. Have fun at practice.”

  “’Kay. Bye.” He touches my arm before he trots off down the stairs. He glances back once and smiles at me.

  I wait for him to disappear before I pull open the door. I hear classical music as I walk down the hall. Most of the doors to the offices are shut. Fraser’s, the second from the end, is open, and when I reach it, I can tell the rolling notes are coming from his room. I rap on the door trim with my knuckles to get his attention.

  He looks up from his laptop and smiles. “Come in, Jade.” He waves at a chair he’s positioned beside his desk. “How’s your head feeling?”

  “Fine. Better.” I pull the chair about a foot farther away from him before taking a seat. He seems to have cleared the L-shaped part of his desk for us to work, but I certainly don’t need to be that close to him.

  “Oh, good. Head injuries can be so scary.” He picks up his laptop and rolls his chair over to me. “Here, scoot over a bit so you can see the screen. I’ll just pull up some slides to show you. I have a test from an old unit I don’t use anymore.”

  Reluctantly, I slide back toward him. He bumps my elbow with his as if we’re old chums.

  “So you recently moved to the area with your dad?” Fraser asks, clicking a folder on the screen.

  “Yes.” I wonder how he knows that, but then I realize he must have been snooping in my file.

  “How are you finding it here?”

  “I like it. It’s different but okay.” I try to lean away from him without being too obvious. He smells as though he just spritzed himself with cologne. Great.

  “I noticed that necklace you always wear.” He glances down at my chest. “It looks old.”

  I reach up to touch my key, using my hand to block his view of my neckline. It isn’t particularly low, but I still don’t like the thought of his eyes aimed at my cleavage. “Yes. It was a gift. From my grandmother.”

  “Ah. Family heirloom.” He smiles at me before returning his gaze to the laptop. “So the test will begin with a picture. Like this.”

  A painting of a naked woman being ogled by two gross bearded men appears on the screen. Holy hell! I squirm in my seat.

  Fraser gives me a look that’s a borderline leer. “This one’s a painting, but there could also be architecture or sculptures. You will have to write what you can conclude about the picture based on what we’ve learned. Try to put it in the correct time period and name the style and themes evoked by it. Just let your mind go, and try to remember what we’ve been discussing in class.”

  Discussing? As far as I know, we haven’t discussed anything in class. He talks. We listen. Having him show me this picture while breathing down my neck is creeping me out. I’m seriously considering the grab and twist move I learned in my self-defense class.

  “This particular painting is by Peter Paul Rubens. It’s called Susanna and the Elders, and it’s based on a story in the Bible. Do you know it?”

  Keeping my eyes down, I shake my head. I’m starting to wish Avery would show up and trash something. That would get Fraser’s mind off my opinion of naked women.

  “Susanna was a popular character for Renaissance painters. She was falsely accused of infidelity by these two men because she refused to have sex with them after they observed her bathing. Rubens was particularly fascinated by the female form and took every opportunity to portray it.”

  I hear a dripping sound, like a leaky faucet. Maybe Avery will show up after all.

  “Have you studied the Renaissance, Jade?”

  “A little.”

  “Don’t let him treat you this way,” Avery whispers in my ear. His voice goes from soft to vibrating. The dripping sound intensifies.

  Do something. Help me, I say in my head.

  “So how would you describe the composition of this painting?” Fraser asks.

  “Umm…” I stare at the screen. The lady, front and center, looks terrified of the two leaning men. She’s soft and pale with oddly shaped breasts. “I’m not sure… maybe an S shape?”

  “Yes, that’s good. Her body and this man’s head are forming an S.” Pointing at the screen, Fraser leans until his shoulder is touching mine.

  A cracking noise splits the air. We both look toward the opposite wall just as a shelf crashes to the floor. A plant, a vase, and several books come down with it, making a mess of the loveseat below. Yes! Avery to the rescue!

  “What the…?” Fraser jumps up. “What’s going on around here?” he shouts.

  I stand when Fraser goes over to examine where the brackets came free from the wall. I try not to smile at Avery, who’s watching from the corner. Nice work, I think in my head to him.

  “I’m going to take care of this for you, Blakely,” Avery tells me. “I will not allow this to continue!”

  Great. Now he thinks he’s still alive and I’m a beautiful blonde. His confusion and anger hint that there was some kind of triangle going on between the three of them.

  Fraser whips his head to the side and stares at the corner. For a second, I wonder if he somehow heard Avery. He clearly doesn’t see anything because he turns all the way around, looking confused.

  “I can help you clean up,” I offer in an effort to distract him. I bend down and start picking up pieces of the vase off the floor.

  Fraser’s face scrunches up. “How could that happen? That shelf has always been fine.”

  “It must have just come loose,” I answer as I pile pieces of pottery on the end table.

  “This place is falling apart,” Fraser mutters. “Don’t bother with that.” He flips his hand at me. “I’ll call maintenance. They should clean this up. I don’t know what is going on with this building!”

  “You’ll get yours, Clarke. I promise,” Avery mutters from the corner.

  As if he heard, Fraser peers at the corner again. Avery is obviously haunting Fraser, maybe trying to drive him insane. Fraser glances at me then goes back to studying the spot where Avery is dowsing the hardwood floor with dirty pond water.

  I pick up my notebook and clutch it to my chest. “Are you okay, Mr. Fraser?” I ask, playing dumb.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call for help with this mess.” He sounds disgusted with everything—the mess, the school, and me. His shirt is wrinkled and half-untucked.

  “Okay. My dad’s picking me up soon. Thanks for the help.” I stuff my notebook into my bag.

  “Email me tonight with any questions. I’d be happy to chat with you.”

  He stops in place, fixing me with his foggy eyes.

  “Okay. Thanks, Mr. Fraser. See you tomorrow.”

  I jog down the stairs, relieved to be putting some distance between us, and I wonder how much Fraser will be able to take of Mr. Avery. I’m even gladder that Connie’s coming on Saturday. Maybe we’ll be able to put Avery to rest. I just wish I knew why Avery hates Fraser so much. From that encounter, it’s clear that there was definitely some bad blood between them, and I’m betting there’s some shred of truth to all the rumors about the love triangle.

  I spread my hoodie on the ground beneath the huge oak tree beside the student lot and lay down. I can’t go to the library because Fraser might see me, so I pull out Hamlet and rest my head on my bag. The leaves rustle overhead as I try to understand Shakespeare’s words. Even
though the language is archaic, making it difficult to read, I enjoy the ghosts in the story. Hamlet and I at least have that in common. I can hear the distant shouts of my classmates on the playing fields, and the sky is as clear as a diamond, no clouds, no humidity. I close my eyes for a minute to rest.

  “Jade.”

  I awake with a jolt.

  Mateo squats beside me. “Are you okay?”

  I glance around and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand in case I was drooling. “Yeah. Fine.” I start to sit up.

  He touches my arm as if to guide me. “I was worried there for a second.”

  “No. I’m fine. I just fell asleep. What time is it?”

  “Almost five. I rushed so you wouldn’t have to wait long.”

  “Okay. Let me text Kira to tell her I’m going with you.” I pull out my phone and send a short note: Got a ride. Thanks. Then I gather my stuff and follow Mateo to the Honda.

  When we get in the car, Mateo asks, “How was it?”

  “Fraser?”

  “No, Hamlet.” He smirks.

  “Fraser was fine. He thinks he’s so cool, though. Like seriously, aren’t there thirty-year-olds out there who want to screw him?” I check my phone for an answer from Kira as Mateo pulls out of the lot.

  “Maybe, but apparently, he likes teenagers. And don’t tell me it was fine because that is such a BS thing to say. Tell me what happened.”

  Ugh. I don’t know what to tell him. I definitely can’t say the ghost of Avery stopped by for a shelf-dropping visit. “You like hearing details?” I raise my eyebrows and reach out to adjust the radio. I wish his car wasn’t a standard. Watching Mateo driving a stick shift is making me feel weird about him. And by weird, I mean slightly turned on from the way he wiggles and pulls on that stick with his ginormous hand.

  “It’s not funny, Jade. You should report him if he touched you.”

  “To who, his father?”

  “Did he touch you?” Mateo widens his eyes, snapping them back and forth from me to the road.

  “No! And I’m not reporting him, either. For anything. Can we talk about something else? Like you. I think you need to get a girlfriend so that I can stay friends with you. That way, it will be safe for us to hang out. Everyone will stop gossiping about us hooking up. Isn’t there someone else you’re lusting after?”

  “So you like hanging out with me?” He gives me one of his lazy smirks that radiates seduction.

  “Yes. As a friend. Isn’t there some cute freshman whose innocence you can steal?”

  He chuckles. “Of course. I’ve already scoped out that scene.”

  “Well, good. That’s perfect. Pick one who’ll be cool with us being friends, and we’re all good. But that’s the only way I can keep hanging out with you because Charlie isn’t going to like it otherwise.”

  “Your boyfriend sounds very controlling. Are you sure that’s healthy?”

  I roll my eyes just as a Violent Femmes song comes on. “Oh! I love this song!” I turn up the volume. One thing I love about living near Boston is the amazing assortment of radio stations. Compared to Nantucket, the variety is phenomenal. I bounce and sing in my seat, energized by my nap and good music.

  “Why aren’t you more upset about Fraser?”

  I stop singing to answer. “Trust me. I’ve dealt with a lot worse than Fraser. I can handle him.”

  “What other pervs have you dealt with? Your stepdad?”

  “Oh my God! Don’t jump to conclusions! My stepdad is not a perv!”

  “Yeah, right. It’s practically a requirement for a stepfather to be a perv.”

  “Well, he’s not, and your stereotypes are very rude. I may not be his biggest fan right now, but Mike is not a perv, so please don’t say anything else about him. And you wrecked this song for me!” I start scrolling through the stations again.

  Mateo stops at a light. “Why am I the bad guy? I’m just trying to watch out for you.” He pouts, leaning his head on his hand against the window.

  “It’s not you, Mateo. It’s the way you say things. You can’t just assume things. Especially bad things.”

  “I know. I’m sort of trying to be funny, but it’s not always funny.”

  “No, it’s not. Just try not to do it anymore. It makes you come off as a jerk.”

  “So you think I’m a jerk?”

  “No, but I think sometimes you try to be cool in the all the wrong ways. Don’t try so hard.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Mateo mumbles.

  I find another song I like, “American Girl,” by Tom Petty, and we listen for a few minutes.

  I ask, “Do you think Fraser had an affair with that girl last year?”

  “Blakely? Yeah, I think he did. My friend Hector was a senior, and he was in class with them. He said it was way obvious.”

  “Really? Like how?”

  “Like they wanted each other. And then like they were having each other, if you know what I mean. All smiling and flirting and Fraser could barely stay focused in class to give his lectures.”

  “Wow. That sounds pretty intense.”

  “It was. And Mr. Avery tried to intervene, I think, but it didn’t work.”

  “In what way?” I wish I’d thought to ask Mateo about this sooner. This is just the kind of information I need.

  “Avery would have Blakely stay after class. I had class with Avery right after her, and he’d make us wait in the hall while he talked to her. That’s why everyone says he liked her, too, but I don’t think it was like that between them. I think Avery was trying to get her to report Fraser.”

  I frown. “It’s weird that he killed himself in the middle of all that then.”

  “Yeah. It was.”

  Mateo turns into my driveway. “I can help you study for tomorrow if you want. I’m kind of used to his tests from last year.”

  My dad’s car isn’t here, so I definitely can’t invite Mateo in. “I’ll text you if I get stuck tonight. Thanks for the ride.” I smile at him because he really is mostly a good guy.

  “Okay. Talk to you later.”

  “Bye.” I get out and jog to my porch. I wave at him before I go inside.

  Jade

  Chapter12

  Connie’s Prius has smelly sachets and crystals piled in the cupholders and on the dashboard. Yoga-style music—a bunch of strings and winds blending together—drifts through her ecofriendly sound system as we head toward Layton.

  “Are you nervous?” Connie asks.

  “Yeah. A little.”

  “It’ll be fine,” she answers, smiling serenely.

  I’ve prepped Connie with a plausible lie to tell in case we run into anyone who wants to be introduced. My plan is to tell them she’s a friend of my mom’s who wanted to see my new school. Even though it’s Saturday, there are still sports going on, so people might be around. “So my mom’s name is Carrie, and you guys went to Northeastern together.”

  “Yes, I remember.”

  This banishment can’t happen soon enough for me. Avery’s been showing up in Fraser’s class all week, pulling poltergeist-style pranks that rival scenes in the best horror movies in Hollywood. Doors slam, water bottles tip over, and electronic devices melt down in grand style. Since the rest of the class can’t see Avery, they’re left to wonder what’s causing all these sudden, random events. Some can be explained away by blaming stuff on the old architecture or electrical outages, but I did hear a couple kids commenting that maybe the school is haunted. Ha, if they only knew! Fraser seems to be getting the idea that the students might be right, and I think he’s starting to notice that I anticipate the occurrences just before they happen. Controlling my reflexes is difficult. I tense up, close my eyes, or even startle when Avery drops in to wreak havoc.

 
When we reach the school, I direct Connie to the main lot, which is already full of cars because of the home games. I’ve never been to the school on Saturday, and I’m hoping the classrooms are unlocked. Layton is an honor-system kind of place, so I think they will be. Plus, there’s really nothing in there to steal. The teachers’ offices are the rooms they lock. I plan to take Connie to Fraser’s room because that’s Avery’s favorite place to appear. It occurs to me that it’s strange that he doesn’t prefer his old math room or office or even the house he shared with Fraser.

  We get out of the car and head to the front door. There are a few people around, which makes me nervous, but they all seem to be parents heading down the embankment to the playing fields. When we reach the main entrance, I pull open the carved wooden door, but Connie stops to admire the architecture of the mansion.

  “This is a lovely building,” she says.

  I gesture with my hand for her to enter. “Yes. This way.”

  Inside, the main hall is empty. Connie gazes all around at the décor—a beautiful Oriental rug, the expensive looking artwork, and two formal sideboard tables with lamps. “This is a very beautiful school.”

  “Yeah. It was someone’s mansion before.” I walk over to the grand staircase to wait for her.

  She trails behind me. “What era was it built?”

  “I don’t know. Come on. I don’t want anyone to see us.”

  “Yes, okay,” she mumbles then turns her attention to the ceiling, most likely to admire the decorative molding.

  We make it to the art history room without being seen, despite Connie’s architectural ogling. She would probably get along great with Fraser. I shut the door and say a small prayer of gratitude that I got Connie out of sight. Witnesses are the last thing we need.

  Connie starts unpacking her bag. “I just have a few things. Since you said we need to be able to clean up in a rush.”