Shadow Bound (Wraith) (3 page)

C
onnor gave me
a ride home a short while later. I felt bad about his friend. His being upset was understandable, but his moodiness made me nervous. At the curb in front of my house, he shut off the car. I expected him to just drop me off, but he hopped out to walk me to the door.

“Call me if you need anything,” I said. I fumbled in my bag for my keys.

“Okay.”

“Will I see you tonight?” I asked.

Connor leaned one shoulder against the side of the house. “I think I’m gonna go paint some.”

“Yeah, sure.” I nodded, a little bummed, but I understood.

I held up the keys and inserted the right one in the lock. Connor turned the knob for me. “Can I pick you up from work tomorrow?”

I suppressed a stupid smile. “That would be great. Around three?

“Definitely.”

I turned to let myself in, but he stopped me and I was pleased to find his mouth on mine. One kiss led to another, and before I knew it, Connor had me pressed against the front door. His kisses grew deep and a little rough. Different. I wound my fingers into the front of his T-shirt and ignored the way his scratchy beard rubbed my chin.

We got to the place we would normally stop, the invisible line we’d made together. But Connor didn’t stop. He pushed against me harder, his hips and arms trapping me against the door.

My stomach twisted delightfully. Dangerously. This felt good. Really good. Intense. Bone melting. I was one second from climbing up his body for support.

Even so, my brain hadn’t fully stopped working and I knew something was up. Making out in broad daylight on my parent’s porch wasn’t Connor’s normal M.O. I attempted to pull back, but there was nowhere to go.

“Hey,” I tried between kisses. My voice shaky. “I should go in.”

He groaned in response. Deep, low and frustrated. He dropped his forehead to mine. We were both slick with sweat. I wasn’t sure if it was from the heat or from the moment before. Probably both.

“That was nice and everything, but my mom will be home soon.”

Again he groaned, but this time in fun, because we both knew he was terrified of my mother. He should be. She couldn’t talk to ghosts, but she was scary in her own right.

“Plus, Ms. Frances next door is probably watching us through her window.”

We both looked at the house next door and laughed. Nosy but nice, Ms. Frances had lived in the house since the first wave of integration in the 1960s. My family was part of the second wave of re-gentrification, or so they called it. It meant this neighborhood was once all white. Then African-Americans moved in and all the white people moved out in a fit of “white flight.” Fifty years and almost two generations later, the white people came back to the neighborhood their grandparents abandoned the first time around.

This caused some tension in the neighborhood due to raised taxes and lingering feelings of anger. Ms. Frances didn’t seem to care as long as we were quiet. Plus, my dad mowed her yard when he did ours, and my mother had the ability to put anyone at ease. I liked her, although she seemed to have a bad habit of peeking out her window. Especially when I was out here with Connor.

Sure enough, we both saw the curtains on her side window shift.  

“Go.” I pushed him gently on the back. 

He turned and rested his hands on the railings of the porch. “Tomorrow?”  

“Three o’clock,” I confirmed, and he jogged down the steps. “Be careful,” I added as an afterthought. He waved from the street just before dropping in his seat and slamming the door behind him.

&

After Connor left, I took a shower to get rid of the paint and glue and sweat from the day. It looked like I was spending the evening at home since Ava was going out with Christian and Connor was doing his own thing.This was when I missed Evan the most. It hurt losing him as my best friend. It wasn’t like when we moved from the suburbs to the city and I left my childhood friend Grace behind. She and I could still talk and text. We kept in touch on Facebook. Evan was gone. He moved on for good after the fire that killed his mother and stepfather. I was happy he crossed over, but that didn’t take away the fact I missed him.

My mom noticed right away that something was up when I didn’t rush out of the house after dinner. The fact that I was still wearing yoga pants and a torn up sweatshirt probably tipped her off as well.

“No Connor?” she asked as I made myself comfortable on the couch and flipped on the TV.

“No. Not tonight.”

She placed her book on the coffee table. “Something wrong?”

I lowered the volume on the TV. “No, he had some stuff to do.” By stuff I meant vandalizing and coating all available surfaces with graffiti, but I kept that to myself. 

“Oh, well, in that case maybe we can watch together since I doubt I’ll see your father before bed.” My dad was out in his shop, working on something for the store. I knew my mom missed hanging out with me. I missed her, too. A little. But I wasn’t going to pretend like I would rather be home with my parents than out with Connor.

We watched a couple of repeat episodes of “Law & Order.” I liked this show because it was dramatic, but always had a pretty tight wrap-up ending. For better or worse, you knew the outcome. I thought about my visitor at the studio that afternoon. I needed to do some research before bed. Maybe I could help her wrap up her problems sooner than later.

During a break between shows, I was considering getting up and moving over to the computer to do some searches on recent deaths, but my mom put a hand on my arm, stopping me. One look and I knew what was coming before she opened her mouth. “You and Connor seem kind of serious.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. If I said no, I would be lying. Connor was important to me. Really important. If I said yes, a full out sex talk was on the table. Not the one I had when I was 11 or 13, but the one she had been saving up for now. For when I actually had a boyfriend.

My mother was no fool. 

“It is,” I said slowly, feeling my face heat. “Kind of.”

“I know you like him, a lot. And you trust him. He was there for you during…” she left the specifics hanging. We all had a hard time talking about that day.

“The fire. He was there for me and with me.”

She sighed and pushed her hair back behind her ear. “I know babe, but don’t let that make you feel obligated in any way.”  

I blanched. She thought Connor and I would have sex because I felt obligated to him? If he and I were going to have sex, it was because I loved him. Nothing less. “What’s this about?” I ask.

“Just mother-daughter stuff.”

I eyed her for a minute. “You were talking to Ms. Frances, weren’t you?”

My mother’s jaw dropped. Busted. “Look. You know that woman is nosy! If you don’t want her telling me you were going at it on the front porch, then don’t do it!”

I dropped my head into my hands on the words “Going at it.” Now my face was completely on fire. “Mom!”

“What? What do you want me to say?”

“Mom, I don’t feel obligated to him.” I tried to keep the sarcasm down. “We’re just hanging out. We’re friends. We understand each other.”

“I’m not sure I want to know what ’understand‘ means. What I do want to know is, how much does he know about you? About everything.”

About the ghosts. About Evan. That’s what she meant.

I brought my knees to my chest. What I really wanted was to curl up in a ball and disappear. “He knows everything. Connor and I don’t keep secrets from one another,” I confessed. I didn’t want her to misunderstand. We were obligated to one another, but not in the way she thought.

She studied me for a minute and I shifted my attention back to the television hoping she would perhaps drop it. No such luck. At the next commercial, she grabbed the remote and paused the show. I had a sudden hatred of our DVR. “I know you don’t want to talk about this, but I have to.” I rolled my eyes at her and she made a face in return, but continued. “It’s my motherly duty. It’s in the rule book.”

“I’m listening.”

“I really have no idea what to say to you or how to express what I want to say. Just be careful. You have a lot going on, and from the limited information I have about Connor, he does too. You don’t want to complicate that more than it already is.”

“And by complicate you mean…”

“I mean be safe. And smart. Use your head to make decisions. Not your heart. Or other things.”

She did not just reference Connor’s junk. I made a gagging noise, earning her smile. “If you aren’t old enough to talk about it, you shouldn’t be doing it. Plus, I hate to be the one to say this, but this may not last forever, you know.”

“Mom. He’s not going to break my heart. Everything’s fine.”

“I never said he would break your heart.”

“Are you done?”

“For now.” She leaned over and hugged me. I sighed and let her. I wanted to crawl in a cave. She released me but grabbed my arm. “Stay off the porch, okay? I don’t want to have that conversation with an 80-year-old woman ever again.”

“Deal,” I agreed. I grabbed the remote and pressed play. I didn’t want to think about broken hearts and sex and all the serious stuff. I had a ghost to help and a boyfriend who just lost a friend in a really terrible way. Those were the things on my mind. And not to sound shallow, but the kisses and hugs and closeness I had with Connor counted as one of the best parts of my day. No way I would overthink it.

A
t three o’clock
the next day, Ava and I handed out the final art projects for the week to the remaining campers. Most of the parents picked them up on time, although there were always the same ones who came a little late. By the time the last one was out the door, we had cleaned the entire studio for the weekend. My eyes were on the front door though. Connor should have been here at three. 

“I wonder where he is?” Ava asked, gathering her bag from the hook by the office door.

I picked up my own stuff and followed her out the front door and onto the porch. The warm summer air hit my skin. “I have no idea. He was really upset yesterday. I haven’t heard from him since.”

I wasn’t sure how to take Connor’s distance. We had never been one of those couples that spent all our time together. I had work and Ava (although not many other friends), he had his friends and school and activities. But it seemed like this would be one of those times when he would want to be with me.

As if she was reading my thoughts, Ava said, “Maybe he just needs a little space right now. Some people are like that.”

“Maybe.” I sat on the wooden steps and checked my phone for the 10th time to see if I missed a call.

“Do you want a ride? You could call him and tell him you left with me.”

“Nah, I’ll just wait. He probably just got hung up at school or something.”

Ava left and I pulled out my book to read. Every minute that passed I became more worried and irritated. After about 30 minutes, I shoved my book in my bag and slung it over my shoulder. I could call him. I knew I should call him, but my feelings were hurt so, instead, I started walking to my parents’ shop a couple of blocks away.

Halfway down the street, sweat poured down my chest and back. The front porch had been hot enough, but once I stepped into the sun the heat was so much worse. By the time I entered my parents’ shop, my shirt was soaked.