Phantoms of Fall (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 2)

by Joy Elbel

  But, I was wrong. She got an “oops, I’ve said too much already” look on her face and refused to say anything more.

  “This is Zach’s big moment—I won’t let you force me to spoil it for him. Sorry, but I can’t say anything more.” Dammit! What did he have planned for us? He was ultra-romantic but I couldn’t think of how he could possibly outdo what he’d already done for me. I mean, putting a rose on my pillow was pretty hard to top, wasn’t it? Not to mention all of the wondrous nights we spent at The Hideout stargazing together. Friday night couldn’t come fast enough for me.

  “Aside from your plans with Zach, what’s new? I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to talk to you much lately.”

  What’s new? Lots, but nothing I was willing to share. I got into the car with her and let her drive me back down to the house. “Not much. You?”

  My question released a torrent of information on topics ranging from cheerleading, to Boone, to working with Shelly. Somehow, she even managed to sneak in what she ate for breakfast. Just when I was afraid I was about to find out the make and model of the underwear she was wearing, we got to the house.

  “Hey!” she called as she went in to find Shelly, “I don’t care how busy I am next weekend—I will cancel all other plans to discuss the details of your date with you.” She gave me a sneaky smile. “Something tells me you’ll have a lot to talk about.”

  All I wanted to do was talk about it now and it hadn’t even happened yet. One week from now, I would no longer be a virgin. What exactly did Zach have planned for us? I was so excited I was about to burst. When my phone buzzed, I was sure it was Zach and that he found some way to sweet talk his mom into ending his punishment early. My disappointment was profound when I saw that the text was from Chloe instead.

  Chloe. I really liked her but I couldn’t shake the images of her from my dream, claiming that Zach belonged to her. They were just friends, weren’t they? There was never the slightest hint that there was ever anything more between them. But still, something nagged at my brain, something I couldn’t quite place. No, I was being irrational and jealous for no reason. I opened the message to see what she wanted.

  “Shopping?” Her text was short and to the point but I mulled it over for way too long. I was being silly. I needed something to do and she just handed me the perfect opportunity. Replying affirmatively, I agreed to meet her in an hour. If Zach insisted I didn’t have to worry about Misty, then he certainly would laugh at me for having suspicions about Chloe. But even so, I decided to stay alert to any weird vibes she may be giving off. I would talk to her about my date with Zach and see how she responded. Sigh. Just when I didn’t need something else to worry about.

  14. Hiding Behind Enemy Lines

  Our shopping trip was a complete failure. Not only did I not find anything worth buying, I couldn’t seem to get Chloe to talk about Zach with me at all. Every time I mentioned our plans, she would change the subject which only fueled my suspicions about her. If they dated in the past, I would know about it by now, wouldn’t I? Rachel told me about Misty before Zach and I were technically even dating and he provided the whole story for me the very same night. The only other possibility was that they didn’t date but that she wanted to change that. So I took the “keep your enemies closer” approach and made plans to hang out with her again the next day.

  What I got was more of the same. I just couldn’t understand it though. weekend she seemed

  When we talked about this last truly happy for me then. What changed? Unless she was in love with Zach the whole time and something caused her true feelings to surface. But what could have happened in the last week to change things so drastically? Add that to my ever growing list of things to figure out before it was too late. One of these days I would have to start carrying around a notebook so I could keep track of all the weird things I needed to keep track of.

  Basically dragging myself through each day, I rushed home to check the mail in hopes that the yearbook arrived. Monday—nothing. Tuesday—still nothing. By the time Wednesday came, I was practically vibrating at the cellular level all day long. Zach was officially ungrounded and we were supposed to get together to study for Friday’s big math test. Math or no math, I was thrilled to finally be able to spend some time with him outside of school. And then there it was—my package, sitting on the kitchen table beside a basket of fresh blueberry muffins. Shelly’s friendship with Diane Mason sure was paying off—she had acquired a newfound love for baking. But while the muffins looked good, I remembered how sick I got from her eggs and decided not to risk it. I couldn’t be sick on Friday—I just couldn’t.

  I unwrapped the package as I climbed the stairs to the attic. When all of the paper was torn aside, I held the yearbook up like it was the Holy Grail. Because to me, well, it kind of was. It was my ticket to peace of mind, to ending the haunting before it went any further. I tossed my other stuff onto the floor and sat down at my desk.

  Carefully, I leafed through the pages in search of that one page I needed. I was more than halfway through the book when I found it and I found her. Finally, I had a name to put to the face. Garnet Hartley.

  She looked just as miserable in life as she did in death. Pale skin and limp blond hair—it was 1990, shouldn’t she have been hair sprayed within an inch of her life? Nearly everyone else was, so I assumed she wasn’t one of the more popular girls in school. The memorial said she died on October 31st of that year. Then it clicked.

  Rachel and I had a conversation that first week of school about going to the dance and I remembered her saying that the school stopped having Halloween dances when some girl killed herself. Why didn’t I remember this sooner? Why? Because sometimes I got verbal whiplash just listening to Rachel and I wasn’t really paying attention, that’s why.

  I scanned the memorial for details of her death but found nothing more. There were only two pictures of her and in each of them she was with the same person, a chubby girl with long brown hair who never seemed to be facing the camera. I felt kind of sad looking at her this way. What could I possibly be able to do for this homely wreck of a girl that could make her happy? This wasn’t going to be as easy as I originally thought.

  Now that I knew who she was, I needed to figure out exactly how she died. Committing suicide in the school was a bold statement coming from such a meek-looking girl. Something really big must have happened to push her over the edge. But what? And how would I find the information I needed? I couldn’t just walk up to her parents and ask them why their daughter killed herself—it just didn’t work like that. I glanced at the clock to see that Zach would be here soon so I would have to think about Creepy Girl later. I mean, Garnet. Garnet Hartley. What a pretty name for such a tragic girl.

  Zach arrived a little early and I joked with him that it was because every prisoner is happy to leave his cell. Incarceration only served to deepen his charm, though.

  “No man in his right mind would be late for a date with you,” he said and kissed me softly on the lips. “I thought about you every night while I was in my cell.” Then he gave me a sexy wink.

  Was he talking about what I thought he was talking about? I mean, really, what did prisoners do in their beds at night when the only option for a date was their own hand? If that was what he meant, I was flattered beyond all compare. That was something guys did while “reading” skin mags—not while thinking about their own girlfriends, right? Friday night suddenly seemed years away.

  Two hours of studying with Zach was delicious torture. As we huddled around my desk together, I could see that he was having trouble concentrating. And trust me, it wasn’t a one-sided problem. With him sitting so close, I almost forgot how to add let alone solve equations. I gave him a sample problem to do and then waited for him to finish it. In the meantime, I couldn’t help myself—I totally sat there checking him out.

  We’d been dating for months now but I still marveled at the fact that the Norse god seated beside me was actually my boyfri
end. Guys like him were rare. How did I get so lucky? And after Friday night, things would only get better. I could feel the smile forming on my face just thinking about it. And seriously, was the room getting hotter or what? He caught me staring at him and I looked away in embarrassment.

  “Hey, don’t be so shy—I like it when you check me out. It reminds me that I’m not the only one who feels this way.” And then I felt his hand on my leg, the heat burning through my jeans and into my thigh.

  He didn’t want me to be shy, huh? Coming right up. After all of those nights of him pushing me away at a crucial moment, I was relieved to finally have him invite me to make a move. I returned the favor and put my hand on his leg, too. Within seconds, my hand felt like it was on fire. A fire I wanted to consume me. Seriously, was it Friday night yet?

  He must have read my mind. “I can’t wait until Friday—it’s going to be a night we’ll both remember for the rest of our lives.”

  It certainly would be. “Do you need me to do anything—or bring anything?” I didn’t just want to assume that he would take care of the details but the thought of having to walk into the store and buy condoms myself was more nerve wracking than my driver’s test was.

  His eyes sparkled back at me. “Nope, all I need is you.” Of course not a lot of studying got done after that. It was almost ten anyway so we spent the rest of our time together kissing instead. We couldn’t do anything more with Dad and Shelly downstairs, but I certainly wanted to. When I finally had to let him go home, I decided to keep track of how many hours were left until our date. Forty-six hours left as a virgin. I could survive that much longer. I hope.

  Thursday was a normal day. Normal for me, anyway. Now that I knew her name, I was actually looking forward to seeing Garnet. As long as I could find a quiet spot, I could have an actual conversation with her this time. I was doing what she wanted me to do so things should be pretty smooth between us. Of course, now that I was looking for her, she was nowhere in sight. Ghosts are like boys—frustrating and unpredictable. The minute I thought I had them figured out, they changed all of the rules. At least Zach and I were now back on the same page. I could only handle one frustration at a time, thank you.

  I gave up on Garnet by the time I got to phys ed. Misty wasn’t even a distraction for me, either. After my date with Zach, she wouldn’t matter anymore. I hit the track like a girl possessed and didn’t even look her direction. Sure, I could feel her beady little eyes burning a hole in my back—who cares? Zach is mine and by Monday morning she would have to face that fact. It’s not like I was going to tell her we had sex or anything. I was confident that she would just be able to sense it.

  When we got back to the locker room, I discovered a newfound boldness. Normally showering in front of the other girls was mortifying. But I was determined to let Misty see that I wasn’t ashamed of my body—even though I definitely still was. Once the water came to temperature, I undressed and stepped in without fear. But I forgot that Misty wasn’t the only one to fear in that room.

  I closed my eyes and enjoyed the water for a few seconds and that’s when it happened. The water wasn’t water anymore—it was no longer liquid but more like a thick, gelatinous substance. As it spilled into my mouth, I caught a taste of it. Warm and metallic. It was blood. I didn’t want to open my eyes but I had to.

  Pouring from the showerhead in a heavy stream, everything was soon covered in it. The floor, the wall—me. My entire body was stained crimson. Staying calm was the smart thing to do so of course I did the exact opposite. I couldn’t help it—I screamed and flailed around trying to wipe it away. Grabbing the handle, I tried to turn it off but instead ended up pelting myself with an even heavier spray.

  It didn’t matter where I was or who was watching—I screamed repeatedly until my throat was raw. And then as quickly as it came, it was gone. No blood—nothing but water jetting out of the wall and swirling innocently down the drain. Quickly, I wrapped myself in a towel and backed away from the shower in horror. Twenty sets of eyes stared at me with a mixed look of fear and curiosity. One pair, however, gave a look of sublime satisfaction. If the situation were reversed, I wouldn’t have looked at Misty the way she was looking at me. Forget about Garnet—Misty was the true face of evil in that room.

  I sat down on the bench and slithered into my clothes without removing my towel until I was done. Coach Hunter was still outside during my episode but came straight over to me when she heard.

  “Ruby, are you okay?” She kneeled down in front of me and spoke quietly. How was I going to answer her? Was I okay? Even I didn’t know that answer. But I definitely couldn’t tell her the truth—that I was sure of. When she told me to follow her to her office, I knew I only had a moment to concoct what might have to be my greatest lie yet. Somehow, through intense terror and humiliation, I was able to pull it off.

  By the time I took a seat and she asked me what happened, I knew exactly what I was going to say. The best part was that it wasn’t entirely a lie.

  “I almost drowned over the summer—sometimes I freak out around water. It’s unpredictable. I never know when it’s going to hit.” One look at her face and I knew she bought it. Today, I earned a gold star for lying.

  “You should have told me about that sooner, Ruby. I feel awful that I put you in such a traumatic situation. No more showers for you.” She looked truly sorry, like she blamed herself for what happened.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t say anything because I thought I had it under control.” I couldn’t look her in the eyes so I stared at the floor instead. “I guess I was wrong.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you? If you want to skip last period and go home right now, I’ll write you an excuse.” As bad as I wanted to accept her offer, I didn’t. Leaving now would only make me look like a big baby on top of already looking like a freak. I shook my head. “No, I’ll be alright. I’ll see you after school.”

  She gave me a smile and told me I could leave. That offer I did take. I ran out the door and into the nearest restroom so I could be alone for just a few minutes before math class.

  I stood at the mirror and surveyed the damage. My hair got wet from all of my flailing and was starting to curl as it dried. Great. Now I not only had to face the world as a freak, but as a freak with curly hair. That was the last straw— I would have to see if they made battery powered straighteners. While I was busy trying to salvage what I could of my hair, I heard the squeak of the door as it opened. Regardless of who it was, I didn’t want to be seen so I ducked into the last stall and closed the door quietly behind me. It was the best decision I’d made all day.

  “OMG! She’s more of a freak than I even imagined!” The voice belonged to Misty so I soundlessly crept as far back toward the wall as I could. I couldn’t be discovered— with the mood I was in, I was likely to punch her right in the nose if I had to actually face her. It was obvious that she was talking about me and I wanted to hear every word she had to say.

  “I know, right? But how are you going to use it to your advantage?” The second voice belonged to Jordyn, the evil minion. I was never one to eavesdrop, but this was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up. The last time I listened in on a conversation, I got to hear Zach tell Boone how he felt about me. And with as interesting as that discussion was, something told me this one would top it. I was right.

  “You’ll see. When my plan is in full effect, Zach will never have sex with little Miss Virgin.” Plan? What was she going to do to me? And seriously, why was she so sure I was a virgin? Luckily, Jordyn asked her for that very same answer.

  “I don’t know, Misty, they’ve been together since summer—they may have already sealed the deal.” For two seconds, I had a drop of respect for Jordyn. Then I remembered that I had no respect for anyone who would be friends with someone like Misty.

  Anxiously waiting for her reply, I stood in the stall barely breathing. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that I was afraid they were going to hear it. She barely paused
before answering, but I would have sworn that hours had passed.

  “Definitely not. You’ve seen him—he’s volatile, a ticking time bomb. He’s jealous and possessive because he’s afraid that someone else could crack open that chastity belt of hers before he gets a chance. He’s so sexually frustrated, he’s about to burst. I just have to make sure he explodes on me and not her.”

  Great, just great. Was it that obvious? Even if it was, was it really my fault? It’s not like I wasn’t willing—I’d sent him all of the signs, hadn’t I? Where this subject was concerned, he was impossible to read.

  “So what if you’re wrong and they actually have? Would you still want to be with him?” The sound of Misty’s laughter echoed off of the tiles and bounced mockingly into my ear. It didn’t really matter anyway—after our date on Friday night, everything she thought she knew about our relationship would be wrong. I was tempted to march right out of that stall and give her a piece of my mind. But I was a chicken at heart, so I stayed put and listened for more.

  “They haven’t—I’m positive of that. Zach’s the kind of boy who will fall endlessly in love with the first girl he sleeps with. I just have to make sure that girl is me. And after I’m done with Ruby, that won’t be so hard to accomplish.”

  My mouth dropped in disbelief. She was right—Zach’s first time was important to him. If it weren’t, he would’ve nailed Misty when he had the chance. She thought she was so smart but what she didn’t know was that Zach and I were having sex Friday night. Of course I definitely wanted to, but now I knew I also had to. Since I knew who the ghost was, ending the haunting would be a breeze and I wouldn’t have to push him away. In fact, it was the exact opposite—I had to draw him closer.

  I was concentrating so hard on hearing every word of their conversation that I almost peed myself when the sound of the bell screeched through the restroom. When I heard the squeak of the door, I knew they were gone but I waited a few more minutes so they wouldn’t see me walk out after them. I didn’t care if I was late for class—Misty couldn’t know I overheard what was said.