Authors: Emily Goodwin
Something seemed odd about her, and it wasn’t her very forced-sounding introduction or the fact that she was wearing a tennis bracelet with diamonds so large Jamie was sure the thing was worth more than her car. It was the way she looked around the room, nervously, suspiciously, as if she wasn’t sure of what to do. She apprehensively touched the chemistry book, then put her hands in her lap, then nervously yanked on her necklace.
Jamie did what Mr. Thomson asked and shared her book with Melia. She explained the lab project to her and scooted the microscope in the middle. Melia looked at it like it was an alien.
Strange,
thought Jamie and was relieved when the bell rang. Too enthralled in her new lab partner, she hadn’t realized how fast the remaining time had gone. She jumped up, shoving papers into her folder. Melia sat calmly still, watching the class mill about.
“Need help finding your next class?” Peter asked Melia, smiling in such a charming way that Jamie felt her heart melt.
“Sure,” Melia said, returning his smile. As she rummaged through her purse for her class schedule, Jamie watched Peter look Melia slowly up and down. Melia followed in step behind Peter and paused, turning quickly around. “Bye, Jamie.”
“Uh, bye,” Jamie sputtered. She rushed to her English class and took her seat in the back. To her surprise, Melia walked in, spoke quickly to the teacher, Mrs. Leary, and took the seat behind Jamie. Every male in the room sat up a little straighter, ran a hand over their hair and smiled as Melia passed.
Jamie was jealous.
This girl is gorgeous. And probably a total bitch since she looks rich too. It’s not fair
, she mentally said with a sigh.
When Mrs. Leary told Melia to borrow someone’s notes to copy, she automatically turned to Jamie. Jamie reluctantly handed Melia her notebook, worried she might flip to a page filled with supernatural inspired drawings.
She followed Jamie down the hall after class. She stopped at a locker, staring at it as if trying to will it to open. Jamie’s heart skipped a beat; that was Lacey’s old locker. She knew the combination and doubted the school had bothered to change it. She also knew that particular locker was hard to open. Lacey had struggled with it until she discovered you had to push the door in while turning the combination lock. Jamie’s own locker was right next to it. She quickly shoved her books inside, preparing to offer help, but was beaten to the job.
Melia was whisked away by three cheerleaders. Kaitlin, a pretty red head, shot a disgusted look at Jamie. After complimenting Melia’s designer handbag for the fourth time, she said, “Ugh, I saw you talking to Jamie Forester. That girl’s a total freak. She thinks she can talk to the dead!” The cheerleaders burst into laughter.
Tears pricked Jamie’s eyes. She pretended not to hear and pushed her head inside her locker, pretending to look for a book. After the little crowd was gone, she grabbed her lunch and ate it in the bathroom. Jamie flew out of her desk at the end of the day. She wanted today to be over with. She didn’t want to look at Melia’s beautiful body or be around anyone who thought she was a ghost-seeing freak anymore.
“I’ll try to write this all down tonight,” a honey smooth voice came from behind Jamie. She jumped, turning to see Melia holding her English notebook. There had to be at least fifteen pages of notes to copy. It would take forever.
“You can just photocopy it,” Jamie suggested. Melia’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Photocopy? Like take pictures of it?”
“Really?” Jamie asked incredulously.
Melia nodded. Cursing herself for offering, Jamie led Melia to the library and showed her the copy machine. But Melia didn’t know how to use it.
She knew Melia was staring at her as she copied page after page. She avoided looking up and made a bigger deal of stacking the copied pages neater than necessary.
They walked in silence to the parking lot, Jamie fishing the keys to her Jeep out of her backpack as they went. A yellow Lamborghini revved to life.
A woman just a beautiful as Melia waved to her.
“See you tomorrow!” Melia called over her shoulder to Jamie and rushed to the sports car. Jamie shook her head. She wished she was old enough to drink. A glass of wine sounded good right now.
*
“Is it true you can talk to the dead?”
“What!?” Horrified, Jamie hushed Melia. They were sitting in chemistry the next day. The entire class was silent, busy concentrating on their lab assignment. That was the third time Melia spoke loudly, clearly not understanding the concept of ‘inside voices’. She had done other odd things as well, like sticking her finger in the Bunsen burner, asking, “Why don’t they build a really big pool for the elephants in Africa? I think they’d like that.”
“Can you talk to the dead?” Melia asked again, quieter this time.
Jamie was about to say no when she caught the look in Melia’s eyes. It wasn’t mocking or jeering. It was hopeful and desperate. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Can you talk to someone for me?”
“Maybe.”
Melia smiled. “Can you come over after school?”
“Yea, I, uh, guess.”
Jamie’s heart pounded at the end of the day. Part of her thought this was a cruel trick. Maybe Kaitlin and Janet put her up to it. But there was something in Melia’s eyes, a silent pleading that Jamie couldn’t ignore. She threw her backpack in the back of her car and waited.
Wearing another pair of designer heels, short denim shorts and a sheer, flowy light pink blouse over a tight tank top, Melia looked like she was walking out of a
Vogue
photo shoot. Her hair was stick straight today, half held back in a pretty gold clip that matched her gold bangles and necklace. She got into a silver and purple Audi R8 and led the way to her house.
The breath caught in Jamie’s chest. Her palms sweat. She swallowed. The heavy iron gates slowly opened. She nervously stepped on the gas, carefully navigating her way up the winding driveway to a mansion. Jamie remembered the day the construction started about two years ago. The entire school had been in an uproar, as the mansion was located atop a high, flat hill that jutted out at a sharp angle, overlooking the ocean. The view was amazing, and it had been a notorious party spot for years. Of course, everyone’s parents had been happy to give up that location.
The house was grand, with tall, floor to ceiling windows, fancy landscaping, and a winding brick drive. Jamie thought the house looked out of place in the modest town of San Morado. The yellow Lamborghini parked in the driveway belonged on the streets of L.A., not here. Referred to as The Ridge, it was still just as much a topic of conversation today as it was two years ago. She followed Melia inside, feeling sloppy and underdressed in a house so grand. Everything was immaculate. Jamie felt like she was in a museum.
A gigantic brown dog lumbered down the stairs. He pounced, putting his paws on Melia’s shoulders. On his hind legs he was taller than her. Jamie was horrified.
“This is my Irish Wolfhound, Wolfy,” Melia informed her.
“Wolfy,” Jamie said as the humongous canine greeted her with a slobbery kiss. “How original.”
“Don’t let his size scare you. He’s quite nice.” She opened the door to let Wolfy run outside.
The foyer was the size of Jamie’s bedroom—or bigger. A beautiful curved staircase with hand carved wooden railings welcomed you upstairs. Jamie’s eyes walked up them, curious as to what was behind the fancy balcony. Melia dropped her Louis Vuitton messenger bag and kicked off her shoes. She motioned for Jamie to follow. They went down a gallery hallway, through a butler’s pantry and emerged in the kitchen. Melia hopped up onto a huge island counter. Sunlight sparkled off the expensive granite. Jamie tried not to be obvious as she took in the enormity of the kitchen. The refrigerator was masked, covered with the same fancy wood that made up the cabinets. The tray ceiling was painted a pale blue, just a shade lighter than the walls. Everything was so elegant.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, looking out the window.
“Uh, no. I’m fine,” Jamie lied.
“Oh, well I am.” She jumped off the counter, grabbed a glass from the cabinet and turned on the faucet. After staring admiringly at the running water for a full minute, Melia filled her glass. Just then a twenty-something year old man walked in.
“Hello Melia, how are you today?”
“I’m well,” she said, holding her glass up to the sunlight. “This is Jamie.”
“Nice to meet you, Jamie. I’m Charles. Would you like anything to eat?”
“Uh, no, I’m, ok.” She smiled and flushed. Charles was cute. Very cute. He had short, curly dark hair and puppy dog brown eyes.
“Suit yourself,” he said smiled. “And Melia, my dear, what will it be?”
“Grilled cheese.” She took a sip of water.
“Again?”
“It’s my favorite.”
“It’s only your favorite because you refuse to try anything else,” he teased. “I’ll bring it up to you.” He turned to Jamie. “Are you sure I can’t interest you in my cooking?”
“Oh, you really should have something,” Melia spoke, her voice dreamy as she held the glass up again. “Charles is going to be a world famous chef someday!”
“Says the girl who only eats grilled cheese.”
“I eat other stuff!” Melia protested, laughing.
“Ok,” Jamie agreed, realizing that Charles wasn’t Melia’s attractive older brother. He was her personal chef.
Melia led the way upstairs to her room. Mr. VanBurren was an investor from New York. Jamie heard a rumor that he owned his own plane to fly him back and forth for business meetings. She marveled at the chandelier in the foyer, thinking what it would be like to have him for a father.
“Wow,” Jamie blurted, unable to help herself when Melia opened the door to her room. The entire west wall was floor to ceiling windows, giving a breathtaking view of the ocean.
Melia sat on her bed. Jamie perched on the edge. The room was huge, way bigger than Jamie’s. The décor was a bit bipolar, Jamie thought, as she took in the ornamental white crown molding, and the intricate flowers carved on the white dresser (which matched the nightstands, bookshelf, desk and headboard). A beautiful framed picture of an ocean sunset hung above the bed.
Haphazardly taped to the wall next to it were pictures torn out of magazines depicting animals and scenery from Africa. Several stuffed animals sat awkwardly on the bed, sticking out from the sophisticated ivory bedspread. A huge plasma TV hung on the wall directly opposite, above a dresser that was covered in wooden zebras, lions, giraffes and elephants, as well as a handful of sand and a cluster of sea shells.
“How do you do it?” Melia asked.
“Do what?”
“Talk to the dead?”
Jamie fiddled with a loose string on her sleeve. “I, uh, I don’t know. I just do.”
“Have you always?”
“Yea.”
“Wow,” Melia said quietly, sounding truly impressed.
Jamie looked up. “You said you wanted me to talk to someone.”
“Yea.” Melia jumped up and flew to the dresser, opening it with such enthusiasm that several of the wooden figurines toppled over. She returned with a necklace. Jamie gently took it, fingering a sparkly pink shell laced with the most interesting kind of thread.
“It was my sister’s,” Melia said, biting back tears.
Jamie swallowed. “How did she die?” she asked gently.
“She was murdered. I don’t know why, though.”
“What was her name?”
“Lana.”
Jamie closed her eyes, feeling the energy of the necklace. Still afraid the snobby cheerleader Kaitlin might jump out of the closet laughing, she let out a nervous breath. She shook her head, eager to end this when something ran through her.
Water.
It felt like water.
But it couldn’t be. Her eyes flew open. The shell felt hot. Melia’s eyes were so hopeful, so desperately sad…
murdered…don’t know why…
What if it had been her sister? What if she found Jasmine or Jill’s lifeless bodies? She closed her eyes again.
She was sinking. Going down, down, deep down. It was dark, but she could see. Her hair floated out in front of her. A fish swam past.
“Did she drown?” she whispered.
“No,” Melia whispered back. She put a hand on Jamie’s. Suddenly, Jamie was there, in Melia’s world.
She was swimming, she was free, she was happy…and she wasn’t herself. Seeing the world through someone else’s eyes, she turned, waiting for her younger sister to catch up. She dove down deeper into the water. Corals and brightly colored fish passed by. She laughed in excitement. She couldn’t wait to show her this; she’d love it! Finally she slowed, twisting so she looked up at the surface of the water. It was sunny and clear today, making it easy to find. The dark spot loomed ahead. With a swish of her tail she was off again, zooming to it.
“Shhh!” she told her sister as they popped out of the water. “We don’t want them to see us yet.”
Melia nodded and followed, silently slicing through the water, her sea green eyes focused on the yacht. They circled around it, laughing.
“There she is!” the older sister, who Jamie was channeling, whispered. She took the starfish from her bag and threw it like a Frisbee. It hit a woman square in the back. Both girls sank down, laughing. When the starfish whizzed past them, they laughed even harder. Melia popped back up first.