On the Fringe (13 page)

But the darkness was still too thick, until I heard music in my head. It sounded so familiar…a melody repeating itself over and over again, reminding me of my childhood. And then a simple thought emerged from the muddy depths of my mind, forming a clear impression that told me to listen more carefully.

I managed to match the music with a person, then zeroed in on a face; a face with dark hair falling into darker eyes, a pair of dimples, a mesmerizing smile, and a smooth, calming laugh…

Daniel.

Soon, a dim light was crawling out of the shadows, casting the rest of the darkness away. I felt myself starting to regain control, able to breathe again, and my eyes opened just as the shadowy ghost started to fade. I went to the light switch and flipped it on, the yellowish hue overhead nearly blinding me. By then, the dark ribbon had thinned down to almost nothing, and finally disappeared into the wall.

I felt like I’d been crying, but was too tired to even wonder why, and climbed back into bed, burying myself in the covers. After a few minutes, I flipped to my other side, and was slightly startled to find Daniel sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand next to mine.

So
he had been here, after all
. Somehow, I knew he must have helped me.

I reached for his hand, even though it sailed right through, into the pillow. I wanted to talk to him and ask him what happened, but was too tired. Maybe tomorrow, after my mind had a chance to untangle itself from the confusion that was now a normal part of my life. Right then, I felt mixed-up because even though Daniel was right there beside me, I felt painfully alone.

Daniel

Chills attacked me when I shifted into the house. Something was there—something stale and rotten like the stench of garbage. I followed the trail of decay down the hallway and into Claire’s room.

She wasn’t asleep or even under the covers, but was clinging to the edge of the bed, transfixed in the moonlight, its pale glow falling across her face and through the room, illuminating an unwanted visitor. Her eyes seemed glued open, shocked at the psycho ghostdrifting toward her and calling her name. I could feel her terror floating toward me, filling the room with fear.

Yet, I wondered if Claire was seeing something different than me, because I didn’t really think there was anything
scary
about him—even after our encounter at the lake. Sure, he rambled nonsense and wore way too much black, but right now he looked about as threatening as I did, except maybe he was even a little shorter. Really
,
he bore no resemblance to any of the ghosts in horror movies—no hanging skin or protruding bones, nothing like that. So what was the deal? What did Claire see?

As the ghost watched me out of the corner of his eye, I went to her. At first, he seemed surprised to see me, but then a smirk formed on his lips, almost like he was glad I’d arrived. I tried sliding in front of him, blocking his way, but he ignored me, focusing all his attention on Claire.

What was he doing?

I was too fresh, too green to know what to do. Still, I wasn’t about to give up. I
had
to figure out how to help her, even if it meant just staying with her no matter what happened. What could happen? He was just a ghost, right?

A mental ghost with a grudge.

His eyes narrowed, and he suddenly turned his focus to me. I begged for Claire’s attention by waving my hands in front of her eyes and trying to throw my arms around her, like a shield. But nothing worked. She was unreachable, under some kind of spell.

I looked in her eyes. “Claire.” Her gaze went right through me…to
him
.

He was laughing.

I ignored him and concentrated on Claire. “You’re okay,” I said to her, trying to cup her face in my hands, wishing to be able to force her to look at me. I could
almost
feel her skin and even smell the subtle floral scent in her hair, like a garden.

“That’s right,” the ghost whispered in her ear. “You’re scared of me, aren’t you Claire?”

She sunk to the floor and started shaking, gripping her knees and squeezing her eyes shut as the ghost hovered over us both.

“Claire,” I said again.

She buried her head in her knees and released a muffled sob, her hands clenched into fists. The ghost then placed his index finger at the middle of Claire’s back and slowly dragged it up her spine, all the way to the nape of her neck. His hand tensed as he pressed harder, and I felt sick when I saw her hair move to the side. She screamed. I tried pulling her to me, but my arms slipped through her.

“It’s me, Claire. Don’t look at him anymore. Stop listening to him. Think of me.
Look
at me. Remember last night?”

Her eyes relaxed and she smiled for a second. The ghost drew backward a little and scowled at me. I wasn’t sure how my words were helping, but kept at it, convinced I was on to something. “Remember the carousel, Claire? Think of the music and the lights…think of me…how I held you. Remember that?”

The ghost shot toward me, stopping right in front of my face. The darkness in his eyes raged like two black hurricanes. “Shut. UP,” he demanded before bringing his hands to his head and thrusting them through his hair.

But Claire’s eyes had already popped open. She was wiping her tears, and we both turned to watch her take a deep breath as she pulled herself up. Without saying a word, she went directly to the doorway, flipped on the light switch, and then turned around and leapt to her bed, diving into the covers.

Over by the window, the ghost glared. His words came out slow and calm, though they seemed to be filled with some kind of controlled rage that had been tempered over the years. “This is just the beginning,” he seethed, before disappearing through the wall.

The room was quiet.

I went to Claire, mouthing the words, “I’m sorry.”

She looked exhausted. I wanted to tell her everything was going to be okay, but had no idea if that was true.

Instead, I sat on the edge of the bed as she fell asleep, wondering how I was going to stop this nightmare from happening to her again.

CHAPTER EIGHT
TWENTY QUESTIONS

Claire

I awoke to the sound of Addie’s honking, and knew I was in trouble. Despite my insistence, she refused to leave without me. “You’ve been acting like a complete basket case for the past week, and I really doubt you can pull yourself together without my help.”

Not true.

But I kept my mouth shut and rushed to get ready while she drilled me with a million questions, asking me three times why I’d been acting so bizarre lately.

She was overreacting. Sure, I was a little scatterbrained at the moment, but it wasn’t like I’d been ignoring her. We still hung out together every day, and I hadn’t stopped listening to all her worries or all the latest gossip. I was just a little more tired than usual, thanks to weeks of insomnia since my birthday—since Daniel came back.

Even after all that ghost business, I still felt dizzy with excitement remembering Daniel’s kiss. I kept thinking about how his lips felt on mine, when his hands pulled through my hair and drew me into his chest…

“Claire!” Addie had her hands on her hips, glaring at me.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling my hair in a ponytail and grabbing my bag. Maybe Addie had a point. Maybe I did need her help.

We were not horribly late—ten minutes definitely earned us a tardy (not my first), but at least I didn’t miss my first class. I also managed to stay awake the whole morning, even during Algebra.

At lunch, Addie and I ate mostly in silence, probably because my snoring debacle yesterday had already trickled down the gossip line, and now she was embarrassed to be seen with me. After awhile she left me alone at our usual bench to dump her tray, and then stopped to talk to some other friends. I barely noticed her absence or return because I was still stuck inside my daydream, perfectly removed from reality.

“Claire,” Addie’s voice butted in.

“Huh?” I asked, my mouth still full.

She frowned at me with an evil eye, immediately bringing me back to the present. “
So
?”

“What?”

She just stood there, waiting for a response. But what was I supposed to say? There was no way I could tell her about Daniel, even if I wanted to. The last time I brought him up only made her cry. Telling her the truth was definitely out of the question.

“You’ve been acting kind of weird today. Are you mad at me, or what?”

She was way off base for once. I started laughing, which turned into coughing after I inhaled a piece of granola bar. She rushed to my side and started patting my back until the hacking stopped.

“Are you okay?” she asked, putting her arm around me. That was what I loved most about Addie—it was the best part of her. Although blunt and full of energy, she had a soft side that instantly connected to everyone around her. Most of the time she seemed so two-dimensional, and then out of the blue she would do or say something sweet and caring.

“What?” she asked when I didn’t answer.

“It’s nothing, really.” I wiped the tears from my eyes as she squeezed me again. I wanted so badly to tell her what was going on—to tell her
something
. But what? That I was with Daniel last night? That he was probably right here, right now?

I looked in her bright, blue eyes, smiling at my best friend who knew everything about me, and nothing at all. “I…”

“What?” she asked, smiling, like she already knew my secret and was just toying with me. It was hard to ignore Addie when she smiled like that. Just ask the whole school. “Are you in
love?
”

What!
How did she know?

“Come on, Claire, it all makes sense now. Who
is
it?” She practically knocked me over, begging for information.

“No! I’m not in love,” I lied, looking the other way.

“Yeah,
right
.”

Her protective wall reappeared, and she turned her back to me while combing through her purse, pretending to be looking for something she would never find. Surely I’d hurt her feelings, and now she was probably convinced I secretly had a crush on some boy at school and was probably even more furious at me for refusing to tell her who it was. Too bad I couldn’t just lie about it and say it was Drew or something. But I sucked at lying, at least to Addie.

Thankfully, she let it drop. I never heard a word about it the rest of the day and hoped she’d forgotten about it altogether. With Addie, you never know.

After school, the wind blew in a dreary cluster of charcoal-blotted clouds, obscuring the sun and putting me in the mood to ignore my homework. I wrapped myself in a blanket and vegged out on the back porch with my iPod, watching the rain pour down until the rushing sound drowned out my thoughts and carried me away where nothing could intrude….

It was dark when I woke up, and I was guessing I’d been asleep for at least an hour. The air smelled musty and clean at the same time (was that even possible?), and it was still raining. I pulled out my earphones and threw off the blanket, ready to finally face my homework, no matter how torturous.

“Hi, Hon,” Mom greeted me inside. She was taking off her heels and looked tired, like she’d just gotten home from work. “Where were you?” She gave me that worried look again.

“
Relax
, Mom. I just took a nap on the back porch.”

“A nap? Really?”

My defenses were up and ready. “Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” Her eyes shifted from me to the counter, where a couple of paper bags lay. I was suddenly starving when I realized they contained my dinner, and as if on cue, my stomach growled.

“Go ahead and eat,” she said, pushing the bags toward me, and heading down the hall. “I’m just going to change out of these clothes.”

It seemed like I was eating by myself a lot lately, especially now that Dad was working on some huge acquisition or merger or something. I reached into one of the bags for the chicken burrito I could already smell, and plopped it onto a plate along with a handful of tortilla chips and a wedge of lime. I turned to sit down, and squealed, nearly dropping my dinner, because Daniel was sitting across from me at the table, silently strumming his fingers over the smooth surface, smiling at me like he had a secret.

Mom rushed in half-dressed—one leg in, one leg out of a pair of jeans. “What’s wrong, Claire? Are you okay?”

I tried to iron out my smile in order to appear a little more serious for Mom, since she’d rushed back half-naked and all, but Daniel kept waving at me from the table, giving me a very cute, slightly cheesy grin. A stubborn giggle kept inching its way out of my mouth, almost spilling into total laughter. Mom just gaped at me, her bare leg still hanging out of her pants, like she was trying to figure out which swear word to throw at me. Daniel made a quick little motion with his fingers, which I took to interpret as a spider crawling across the table.

Right, spider…good idea
.

“Sorry, Mom. I thought I saw a spider. A big one.”

“What are you? Four? You scared me, Claire!” she barked at me while hopping into her jeans.

I shrugged my shoulders, wondering why she was always so uptight. I felt like telling her to relax, but decided against it with Daniel right there.

After getting situated at the table, I was about to take a bite of my dinner, when Mom sat across from me, right in Daniel’s lap. I tried not to laugh when he made a funny, distorted face and then faded away, only to reappear in the chair next to her.

“Wazso funny?” she asked, her mouth full.

“Nothing.” I immediately stuffed my mouth to keep from laughing.

It was tough eating dinner
and
having a decent conversation with Mom while trying not to stare at Daniel, who seemed to be watching my every move. Talk about self-conscious. I tried telling him with my eyes to knock it off so I could eat in peace. But either he couldn’t understand, or he was ignoring me for fun.