Spirits (Spirits Series Book 1) (9 page)

Glancing around I try to avoid eye contact, I’m so mortified. “To… research.” I turn to leave.

“Wait, you didn’t tell me your name.”

“It’s Journey.” I say without turning around.

“Journey, cool. Can I buy you another latte?”

I just made a complete idiot of myself yet he still wants to talk to me.  “Um, sure.” I turn to face him.

“Great, wait right here.” He smiles and darts back in.

I catch the group looking at me and they start whispering and giggling.  I want to run off and I almost do but then a thought hits me.  If I run every time I do something klutzy or stupid I’ll never meet anyone.

“Hey Carson.” A cute petite red head says as he passes the group.

“Olivia.” He nods and continues towards me.

     “So what are you researching
?” he asks handing me the cup with a lid.

“Thanks. The history of the area.”

“That will be interesting. Mind if I join you?”

I swear there’s a colony of butterflies in my stomach and my face is as red as Olivia’s hair. “Sure.” I shrug not wanting to seem to desperate or interested.

He smiles slightly, “So Journey, where are you from?” he asks following closely beside me.

“Manhattan, is it that obvious I’m not from around here?”

“Your accent gives you away. Are you on vacation?”

“No, we moved here a couple of days ago.” I inform glancing at him.

He peaks his brow and smiles, “Nice.”

“So I’m assuming you live here.”

“Born and raised. I can tell you a lot about this place, what do you want to know?”

I don’t want him to think I’m weird, if he doesn’t already… “The things they leave out of history books.”

“That’s a little vague.” He chuckles, “Savannah was established in 1733 but people lived here before then and a lot has happened over the years.”

“I’m sure.”
I nod. A civil war soldier is heading straight towards us I look at Carson to avoid looking at the apparition. Carson stops and lightly grabs my arm closing his eyes, “Who was the guy you were with yesterday?”

“My brother, Drew.” I tell him looking at his hand on my arm as the ghost passes us. Goosebumps, it’s way too hot out here to have those.

“That explains why y’all look so much alike.” He says glancing behind us and releasing my arm.

“Yeah, we’
re twins.” I follow as he continues forward.

“Well you were a good bit away, I couldn’t make out every detail in my defense.”

“It’s cool, why’d you ask?”

“Just curious.
I didn’t want anyone getting jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Us hanging out.”

“You don’t have to worry about that.” I shake my head.

“Not yet anyway.”

“W
hat’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, “You’re new, you don’t know anyone but you will soon.”

“Huh, I’m not exactly a social butterfly if you haven’t noticed.”

“That doesn’t mean other people won’t talk to y
ou,” he smiles, “some guys like shy girls.”

I’m not about to blow that out of proportion.
It doesn’t mean he necessarily likes shy girls… Or does it?

“S
o do you live in town?” He asks as we stop on the corner waiting for the light.

“No my parents bought an
old plantation right outside.”

“I bet you love that.” He grins.

“Not really.” I shake my head thinking about everyone else I have to share the place with.

“Why not?”

“I’m just not fond of old houses.” That’s mostly inhabited by the dead.

“You know most people find them charming.”

Until they find out they are haunted, “I am aware. I guess it’ll just take some getting used to, we lived in an apartment before.”

“So it’s the size
?” He asks as we crossed the street towards the cemetery.

“Umm…Maybe. Everything is so different down here, and I hate having to start all over again.”

He stops at the entrance, “So you don’t like change?”

“Well… Some changes can be great however
some are pointless.” I shrug.

“Are you afraid?” He looks at me uncertain.

“Of what?”

“C
hange, the move, that you won’t fit in, I could go on but I won’t.”

“Honestly, yes and much more.”

“Well I’m glad you moved.” He smiles and puts his hand on my shoulder, “I think you’ll fit in just fine, you shouldn’t be scared.”

If only it weren’t just that. “Thanks.”

“When I was a little child I was afraid of this place.” He says looking at the big metal archway, “I’d go out of my way to avoid passing it whenever I could but over the years I’ve learned it’s best to face your fears.” His hand slips from my shoulder down my arm to my hand and he pulls me through the entrance. “It’s always easier when you have someone to do it with though.” He looks at me carefully as my heart pounds in my chest.

I’m not sure if it’s be
cause he’s holding my hand or if it’s because I’m in a cemetery. I have to say the first. In my own experiences it’s rare the dead stay near their actual remains. “Why didn’t you like this place?”

“Aren’t most kids frightened by
cemeteries?”

“I don’t know, maybe, they never bothered me.”
I admit reading the headstones. Stopping at a small brick structure I try to read the engraving but it’s so old the writing is barely visible. The stone looks almost smooth again.

“It’s a family crypt. The bodies are underground
.” He points to the large slab I was trying to read, “The opening is behind that.”

I
’m not sure why but I always have this urge to touch old headstones, run my fingers across the chiseled scripts, like I’m somehow connecting with the past in that moment.

He shu
tters and looks at me curiously, “Why’d you do that?”

I groan inwardly, great now he thinks I’m a freak. “I’m not sure, it’s an impulse I have. You probably think I’m crazy right? It’s okay
, you won’t be the first or the last.”

He smirks, “I
ntriguing not crazy, there’s a big difference.”

“Well if you stick around long enough you’ll probably change your mind.” I mumble looking
away.

“Is that an offer?” He squeezes my hand.

I whip my head to him, “Offer?”

“To hang out more.” He chuckles.

“Oh, uh, I mean, if you want.”

“I’d like that, you seem very interesting. I bet we have a lot in common.”

There is a gleam in his eyes like he’s keeping a secret and can’t wait to tell it. “You think?”

“Yes ma’am.” He winks.

Usually I’d be like winking is seriously dorky but he’s so cute it doesn’t matter. I can’t stop the girly giggle and with my free hand I cover my mouth hoping to muffle it.

He chuckles and pulls me along, “S
o during the war the opposing soldiers would break into the family vault, move the corpses out of the way, if there wasn’t an empty bunk, and sleep there for the night.”

“Gross.” I scrun
ch my nose, “How did they deal with the smell of decaying corpses?”

“It was either that or sleep in the open exposed to the elements and your enemies.”

“Good point. Guess they weren’t afraid of zombies.”

“It’s
the living you have to be wary of.”

“Not in all cases.” It slips out.

“What do you mean?” He looks at me curiously.

Contrary to popular belief the
dead that refuse to move on can hurt you. “There are still good people left.” I correct my misstep.

“Yea
h, I haven’t completely lost hope.”

“Anymore stories?”

“I know a lot of them, but I don’t want to scare you.”

“Believe me, it would take a lot to do that.”

“Do you like ghost stories?” He cocks his head.

I smirk, “D
o you?”

He peaks a brow, “D
o you believe in them?”

“I have a feeling you already know the answer to your question.”

“How about the confirmation?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He shakes his head, “Was that supposed to be an answer?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Will you tell me something about yourself now?”

“Depends, what do you want to know?”

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen
, you?”

He grins hugely, “S
ame.”

“My turn, do you have siblings?”

“Yes, I have an older brother and a younger sister.”

“Middle ch
ild, tough spot to be in.”

“Is Drew your only sibling?”

“Yes, thank goodness.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“Well, we don’t always get along although we are doing better and it’s hard enough competing with him, I couldn’t imagine having someone else.”

“Huh, I thought twins had some unexplainable connection.”

“Maybe if they’re the same sex,” my cheeks light on fire from the word, “or it could just be that he and I are different in so many unseen ways.”

“Being different isn’t a bad thing.” He shakes his head, “it’s what makes you
you.”

I look him over in his plaid cargo shorts, Polo
top and flip-flops and I have to stop myself from asking him what makes him different from the rest of the kids here? Besides he’s the cutest I’ve seen so far that is.

“I kn
ow what you’re thinking, I look just like every other stuck up dude around, but looks can be deceiving.” He bites at his lips, “Did you know that some nonpoisonous snakes look similar to the poisonous ones to scare off attackers?”

“So are you poisonous or nonpoisonous?”

There is a dark and mysterious look to him, “I’ll tell you later.” He smirks.

Which translates to he really does plan on sticking ar
ound. “Fine with me,” I shrug nonchalantly glancing around. “Why are all those headstones lined up over there on the back wall?”

“S
ome of the yank, I mean Union soldiers thought it would be funny to trash the place, knock them down, break them or deface them.”

“Jerks.”

“Yeah, they gorged out the dates of birth and death, changed some of them.”

“I believe it’s called vandalism.”

“Yep, a total dick move.”

“Agreed.”

“So have you seen anything interesting yet?” He asks as we exit.

“Yeah,”

“What might that be?”

I smile at him but can’t hold his gaze, I’m too freakin
g nervous to tell him ‘you’.  “My house, there’s some interesting crap there.”

“Did your parents b
uy the old Franklin Place?”

“I
’m not sure, it’s off of Old Oak Road, but you can’t see it from the road. My mom says there are still old slaves quarters, which are probably more like dilapidated huts. Its two stories and I think there’s an attic and basement but I’ve yet to check on my theory.”  He frowns at me. “What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothing.” He says
obviously lying.

“Come on, you can
tell me, please.”

“No one stays there for long.”

I laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

I really want to say I bet they stick around longer than you realize but instead, “My mom is so in love with the place she’ll probably want to be buried there.”

His eyes nearly
bulged out of their sockets, “Don’t say that.”

“What, why not? What are
n’t you telling me?”

“I don’t want to tell you but I guess you’ll find out sooner or later.
That place has seen it share of tragedy.”

“Have you
been there?”

“A couple of years ago, while it was vacant, my brother and his friend decided to throw a party there. Lets just say the night didn’t end well.”

“What happened?”

He pulls me down to a bench and
looks off into the distance, “They did something stupid. They were just messing around and thought it would be funny, a little trick to scare the girls. One of them ended up in the psychiatric ward, she’s still there.”

“What did they do to her?”

“They didn’t do anything to hurt her. They held a séance with candles and an old Ouija board, I told them no good would come of it and they should stop.” He shakes his head. “I was close to the end of the driveway when I heard the screaming…”