On the Fringe (25 page)

“That’s not what it was,” I said defiantly. But he wasn’t looking at me anymore. He seemed to be staring across the room at nothing. “I
saw
him. He was there. I could hear him. I could feel him, and then he vanished.”

Matthew turned his head instantly. “So, you’re telling me that your little secret is Daniel has come back from the dead? Come on, Claire.”

I stood up and paced across the room and back, trying to make him believe me without telling him what he didn’t want to hear. “I can
see
him sometimes, Matthew.”

His jaw was clenched, his profile harsh, almost angry, like I had disappointed him. But I continued, hoping he would realize I was telling the truth.

“Ever since he saved me, I’ve been able to see him when it’s dark. At the exact same time every night, he comes to life again. I can touch him, hear him, and talk to him for about four minutes. I don’t know–”

Matthew stood up. “Stop it, Claire! Just stop,” he exclaimed, his eyes wet, his face red. He scared me. Just for a second. “Stop talking like you’ve lost your mind,” he said more quietly. “Do you realize what you’re saying? Can you hear yourself? Do you want Mom and Dad to send you to a therapist, to put you on meds or something? Can’t you see where this is going? You can’t talk like this. You can’t say this stuff.”

“But, Matth–”

“I’m serious.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and nearly shook me. “I miss him too, Claire. I wanted to die that day, I did. I still can’t think about him without losing it.” A single tear found its way over the edge of his lashes, but he quickly wiped it away, hoping I wouldn’t notice. “You
can’t
do this, Claire.
Please.
”

I felt my eyes start to water, but didn’t care when it trickled down my cheek, clinging to the edge of my lip.

“When Daniel—when he died, I wanted the world to end. I didn’t care about anything. The only thing that kept me going was Mom and Dad. I couldn’t stand being around you and Addie anymore because it brought back too many memories. I didn’t know what to do with myself. It felt like I was about to explode every second, the sound of the gunshot and the image of blood all over his face refusing to leave my head. I tried everything to push it away.
Everything
. But nothing worked.” Matthew let go of me and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry, Matthew,” I said quietly, carefully.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood there as if trying to force something back inside him, something too powerful or horrible to face.

“Going away to college was the best thing I could’ve done. It got my mind off my misery. No one tiptoed around me, and no one reminded me of him. I wasn’t choking anymore. When Addie called me yesterday, I almost hung up on her. It’s so much easier living a new life and not having to face the old one, but after she told me what was happening here, it sort of woke me up. It scared me. I realized that life really did go on, and it would keep marching ahead, with or without me. That’s when I decided I wasn’t betraying Daniel anymore–”

“Betraying Daniel?” I asked, amazed that he had thought something so far from the truth.

“He died while I went on living—living a life that could’ve just as well been
his
life. It seemed wrong and twisted after what he did for me…and…and…” Matthew paused.

“Talk about twisted, Matthew,” I interjected dryly. “Daniel would never think something like that.”

Matthew threw me a look of irritation.

“He
wouldn’t
,” I insisted.

“My point,” he continued, “is that even though you’re dealing with this differently, you obviously need to get away from here like I did. Once he’s out of your mind, you can go on with your life.”

“I don’t
want
him out of my mind.”

Matthew fell backward into the couch, and threw his hands up in frustration or defeat—I wasn’t sure which. It was silent then, and I didn’t know what else to do or say to convince him, except…

He reached for the remote.

“Wait…” I said.

He ignored me and pushed play.

And so it had come down to the one thing I didn’t want to say. But I
had
to because I really needed his help.

Matthew looked especially annoyed when I sat on the coffee table in front of him, partially blocking his view. He craned his neck to look around me, hoping I would get the hint.

Deep breath.

“Matthew, Daniel told me about the night he was shot. He said he didn’t die right away like everyone said, but that you talked to him for a little bit.”

Deeper breath.

Matthew hesitated and then turned off the TV. He slowly brought his eyes to meet mine. “
What?
”

“Daniel told you he was sorry for getting blood all over your new shirt, and then you said, ‘It’s not your blood, bro. It’s mine. You’re going to be fine. Just stay with me a little longer…’ His last words were, ‘I tried to duck, Matt.’ He died with his eyes still open, looking right at you.”

“Claire…” Matthew said my name quietly, slowly, his voice nearly shaking, just like mine. The remote fell into his lap. I couldn’t suppress my heartache anymore, and felt torn apart from having to picture Daniel’s death all over again, combined with the burden from making Matthew relive it, too.

“How would I know this, Matthew?” I asked, trying not to entirely lose it as I felt my voice shaking. “Either you told me, or Daniel did.”

“I never told anyone.”

Matthew stared straight ahead. He was at a total loss—of words, of voice, of composure. And I felt like I was turning a knife into him, driving it deeper and deeper. I put my arm around him as he caved into the tide of emotion that tried to pull him under.

There were no words between us, no sounds. Nothing but pain.

Matthew buried his head in his hands, nearly smothering his voice. “I still haven’t figured out how to go on. I can still see his eyes staring up at me. He even laughed when I told him it wasn’t his blood. He knew I was lying. He knew he was going to die.” He gasped. “Sometimes when I look at my hands, I see his blood all over them.”

I didn’t know what to do. I was having a hard enough time myself, the image of Daniel’s blood on Matthew’s hands was too much.

Finally he turned to me. “I still don’t know if I can believe it, Claire, despite the evidence. It’s impossible.”

“I know.”

I explained the rest—about ghost-Aden and stalker-Felix. Little by little, things seemed to start making sense to Matthew, and the more we talked, the more he seemed to break out of the static that held him trapped inside a mind that could not see beyond his own rationale.

“I’m sorry, Claire,” Matthew said, putting his hand on my knee. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t think straight right now, because every logical connection in my mind has suddenly dried up.”

“I don’t know what else to say to convince you.”

He was quiet for a minute.

“You should probably tell the police that you remember seeing Felix’s name at the park when his wallet fell out, or something like that…” Matthew finally said, already thinking things through.

“Okay.”

Suddenly his phone rang, causing me to jump. He looked at me funny, and answered it. For about twenty seconds he didn’t say another word, but just smiled, covering the phone. “It’s Addie. She says she knows you’re home, because where else would you be, and demands to know why you’re ignoring her.”

He handed me the phone, and then sat at the dining room table, staring intently out the sliding glass door, like he was brainstorming. Right then Daniel drifted into the room, resting casually at the end of the table, opposite Matthew. He turned and smiled at me.

Nice timing.

“Hey, Ad,” I said in the phone, smiling at Daniel.

“Hey, Ad? That’s all you have?” Her voice carried loud enough for both Matthew and Daniel to hear. They laughed.

I finally found an opening and started telling Addie she had a little explaining to do with her secret S.O.S. call to Matthew—but then Matthew looked like he wanted to choke me.

“He
told
you?” Addie yelled, her voice louder than her normal loud. What had I just gotten in the middle of? “I told him to make up some story, to convince you guys that he had a bout of homesickness, or that he just needed a break from school, or something!”

“It doesn’t really matter, Addie,” I reassured her and Matthew. “I’m
glad
he’s here
. Glad
you called him.
Glad
you went behind our backs.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

“What, to go behind my back?”

“Sure. Listen,” she continued, oblivious to what she had just admitted, “Do you think you’ve had enough time to, you know, bond, or whatever you guys need to do with Matthew?”

“
What?
”

“Have you brushed everything under the bridge, or however that saying goes? Like, have I given you enough space yet?”

“Is that what you were doing?” I laughed. “Wow, that must have been quite the ordeal for you.”

“Tell me about it. So, do you mind if I come over? My parents left for some weekend trip a couple of hours ago, and I’m kind of freaking out a little bit here, with that psycho-stalker lurking around and all.”

“Right now?” I asked, looking at the clock on the wall. “It’s past eleven–”

“Kay, I’ll be there in a sec.” The phone was dead before I could respond.

“I’ve actually missed her,” Matthew said with a smile.

“Who wouldn’t?”

My stomach growled like it usually did when I stayed up too late, so I wandered to the pantry in search of a snack, finally settling on a strawberry Pop-Tart. While breaking open the package, I sat at the table between Matthew and Daniel.

“So, while you’re both here,” I said, looking first at Matthew, and then Daniel, before breaking off a huge piece of pastry and popping it into my mouth.

“He’s here?” Matthew asked, looking around the room.

“Yes. He’s at the table, sitting across from you, actually.”

“Seriously?” Matthew’s face was skeptical, although belief was definitely trying to break through. It was as if doubt and hope were at war, neither willing to surrender.

“Seriously,” I said, chomping on a frosty corner.

“What’s he doing?” he asked, looking around.

“Just sitting there.”

Daniel lifted his left hand and waved.

“And waving now, too,” I added.

“Waving? Sounds a little dorky. Tell him–”

“He can hear you, Matthew.”

“Oh. I thought you said he could only hear
you
.”

“No, he can hear everything. You can talk to him, but he can’t talk back. Well, he can talk, but I can’t hear him.”

“That’s annoying.”

“Um.
Yeah
.”

“So, how do you communicate then, if you can’t hear him?”

“It’s not easy. I’m getting really good at charades, though.”

“Oh, yeah, that would work,” he laughed, probably remembering how uncreative I had always been, and wondering if Daniel was ready to give up yet. “Sorry, man,” he seemed to whisper, like he wanted to say something to Daniel, but was too embarrassed.

Daniel shifted closer to Matthew and looked right at him, his eyes overflowing with something like regret filled with gratitude for his best friend. Six months ago, Daniel would’ve considered that kind of gesture beyond cheesy. Dying must change
every
perspective, even a teenage boy’s.

“So, from what you’ve told me, Aden can only come right after you and Daniel have your connection, right?” he asked, snagging my other Pop-Tart.

“Yes, if that makes any sense…” I looked away, feeling strange talking about it out loud.

Matthew stretched his arms, like he was getting tired. “When was the last time you and Daniel connected?”

I looked at Daniel, then back at Matthew again. “Um…about an hour ago.”

“Oh.”

“He said it was the last time, though,” I said, looking back at Daniel, who wouldn’t meet my eyes. It hurt even more saying the words out loud. “Tonight will be the last night we have to worry about Aden haunting me.”

“So, after tonight, we only worry about Felix?” Matthew asked, thoroughly missing my underlying remorse.

I nodded my head.

“You can’t be by yourself. Ever,” Matthew said, slapping his hand on the table.

“Ever?”

“Not until Felix is caught. I’m also not sure how effective Dad’s fancy new alarm is going to be with a ghost hanging around, and all. But I guess it’s better than nothing.”

“What do you think, Daniel?” I asked, but he just kept staring off in a pensive gaze out the window, like he wasn’t listening anymore. “Um, he looks like he’s thinking.”

“Tonight, Daniel can watch for Aden, and I’ll keep an eye on you the rest of the time,” Matthew said.

“But for how long?” I asked, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. “We can’t do this forever. You still have to get back to school,
I
still have a life, or at least I
should
have one. I don’t think this is going to work, Matthew. I–”

“Claire,” Matthew said, leaning forward, grabbing my clenched fists. “We take it a day at a time. You’re right. I have school, we both have a life, but for right now—tonight, tomorrow, I don’t know, until it doesn’t make sense anymore, this is what the plan needs to be.”

I smiled, thankful Daniel made me tell Matthew, because I didn’t feel so alone anymore.

Addie arrived close to midnight, and around one-o’clock we all finally went to bed. Dad had already set the alarm four hours ago, but Matthew did it all over again, mumbling under his breath something about how useless cops were.

I was glad Addie had invited herself over, because with her all snuggled up inside the covers beside me, I somehow felt a little safer. Even after she turned her back toward me and mumbled, “Wake me if you hear anything, okay?”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DAWN OF THE DEAD

Daniel