Authors: Vincent Morrone
But when I looked into the faces of my new family, all I could see was love. I could only wonder how long it would last.
“Dad,” Zack said. “Can we stop and see Mom before we go?”
My uncle searched my face. “You ok
ay with that?”
I nodded. I was in no hurry to get to the lodge.
We only needed to walk a few feet away. I stared down at a grave marker, shaped like a giant heart, and read the words engraved on the face.
Eve Blackburn
Mother, wife, best friend
We carry you in our hearts, every day
She was only in her mid-thirties when she died. I could feel the emotion rolling off of my new family. Each of them felt the stab of loss in their own way. I watched them as they each stepped forward and said something private. Zack looked the most lost out of all of them.
I approached him and put my
arm around his tiny shoulders. “Hey, kiddo. You okay?”
He sniffed and nodded. “I just wish I could remember what she sounded like.”
Uncle Mark took his son’s hand and drew him closer. “We have some videos at home. We’ll have to dig ’em out.”
“You know, Zack,” Simon chimed in
. “You and her have a lot in common. You look like her the most. And sound like her, too.”
Stepping back a bit to give them their space as they had for me, I watched Uncle Mark put one arm over each son. Both boys leaned against him. It was both sad and beautiful.
Then I felt it; a cold, dark stab of pain and despair. Guilt beyond anything I’ve ever felt before. Agony turned inward. I nearly fell from the weight of it.
It wasn’t coming from my family. Slowly I turned, trying to find the person in such despair. It wasn’t hard. The remorse and shame were like a beacon. It only took me a moment to focus in on the source.
He was standing only about a dozen feet away, but his face was hidden in shadow. Staring down at a grave, his body was perfectly still despite the storm of emotions that welled up within him. Anyone else who looked at him would see nothing but the silhouette of a teenage boy, paying his respects to some dearly departed soul.
I took a step
toward him but someone grabbed my arm. It was Grandpa. “Don’t go there,” he whispered. “That boy ain’t nothing but trouble.”
I could hear the hatred in his voice, but despite my grandfather’s warning, I wanted to know more about
him. I glanced back and the boy finally looked up. My chest tightened as our eyes met.
It was him.
The same boy I’d seen a thousand times in a thousand dreams.
Somewhere in the distance there was a
low hissing sound that made my skin crawl, like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.
Then he turned and quickly walked away. A very big part of me felt there may be a chance my grandfather was right.
But
I knew it didn’t matter. Our lives were intertwined somehow. No matter what, it wouldn’t be long before we were face to face again.
I could only hope I fared better than whoever’s grave he was visiting. As I allowed Grandpa to pull me back to my family, I couldn’t
help but notice the flowers the boy left at the gravesite. They were pink tulips.
Pink
tulips were my favorite.
So
, I finally saw the boy from my visions who is supposed to kill me, and what was he doing? Standing over a grave feeling guilty as all hell. And what goes through my mind? That he was even hotter in person than in my dreams. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, I needed help.
Oops, You Weren’t Supposed To See That
It didn’t surprise me that there were no ghosts in the cemetery. After all, the dead linger because they can’t let go of someone or something, or because they are afraid to move on. Why hang out at a gravesite? Where’s the fun in that?
So, if you need a moment to talk to your late wife or to speak with your dearly departed mother, there really is no reason to make the trip down to the graveyard. Save the gas. You’re better off going to a place they felt tied to, like their place of business or their home. Or for those who may have passed while in their teen years: high school.
Don’t ask me why, but I have yet to visit a school that didn’t have at least a few ghosts roaming the halls. Student or teacher, there’s always some of the dead to be found on school grounds. Kind of brings new meaning to the term school spirit, huh?
With that in mind, I arrived for my first day at my new school unafraid of seeing these ghosts. After all, I’d never had any reason to fear the dead.
Nevertheless, I also happen
ed to be scared out of my friggin’ mind. It’s high school! That morning, my sweet, caring uncle said I’d learn to fit in in no time. There could be no possible explanation for that sentence other than the fact he was insane. I didn’t do fitting in.
I talk
ed to ghosts. I had visions. I didn’t
hang out and chill.
I’ve navigated through school and
life overall by following three simple rules: Never tell anyone my secret, don’t let anyone get close enough to guess my secret, and always trust my instincts.
Sometimes I g
ot these feelings out of nowhere to do or not do something. They didn’t come often, but when they did, they were usually worth heeding. I got one of those feelings when I approached the intersection of the hallway, which is why I stopped.
There was a girl walking right next to me. She was really pretty. Pretty in that perfect way that makes you want to puke.
She had blond hair, blue eyes, was perky and thin, and wore a blouse that proudly displayed her cleavage. From the corner of my eye, I noticed she was looking me over, checking out the new girl. I could see her trying to assess me as a threat. This wasn’t a supernatural thing. Just a teen girl thing. This girl was going to be a major pain. And she may have wondered for a moment why I stopped where I was, but she continued on her way as if I wasn’t worth the time.
As she started to round the corner, she was hit face first wit
h a great, big ball of zaniness.
At least that was the only way I could think to describe the colorful girl who came careening around the corner, her frizzy hair flying in all directions
, as she slammed into Ms. Pretty, Perfect, and Perky. I watched in both horror and amusement as the two of them bounced off each other and fell to the floor with a thump that echoed through the hallway.
Laughter
exploded as the two girls tried to pry their way free of one another. Princess P—my new name for the blonde—was instantly livid. She let loose on the other girl, using words that would make a trucker blush.
I took a better look at the
other girl. She was dark-skinned, a little short, and a little chubby. She wore a bright orange top with mint green stretchy pants. Her eyeglasses were also orange and green. To be honest, her outfit was so loud I was surprised I could hear the blonde girl scream and curse.
“What is wrong with you?” Princess P yelled as she stood. “You knocked right into me! Don’t you watch where you’re going
? And why are you picking up your things? What about my stuff?” With flaring but still perfect nostrils, she swiped out her hand and knocked whatever books and papers the other girl had managed to get together back down to the floor. I watched in astonishment as papers floated gently in all directions.
“I’m sorry
,” the frizzy-haired girl muttered. “I didn’t see you, Pricilla. I was just trying to get to class on time.”
Pricill
a
—
oh, what a perfect name for her; it even started with a
P
—
shot the other girl a look of loathing, as if someone had just told the Princess that she was now required to wipe her own ass or something.
“Maggie, you imbecile
,” Pricilla said. “You knocked me down. You should be shot.” Maggie pushed herself upright. Then with one quick motion, Priscilla tripped Maggie back to the ground. “God, you’re pathetic.”
T
he wise course of action would be to bypass this little display and make my way to my first class. I was fairly certain getting involved in this situation would be against my better judgment. I preferred to stay under the radar. This wouldn’t be under the radar. In fact, this would be right in the middle of the radar.
But looking down at this girl named Maggie with her slightly chubby frame and her wild frizzy hair that was sticking
out in all directions as she failed about, trying to regain any dignity she could; the wisdom of staying out of it just didn’t seem to matter.
I walked over to Maggie and extended my hand to her. When she looked up at me, her eyes were filled with tears and gratitude. As I pulled her
up, I could sense her thankfulness. She looked as if she might throw herself down at my feet for such a simple act of courtesy.
I looked over Maggie’s shoulder to see a boy in a Metallica
T-shirt with long, dirty blond hair and ripped faded blue jeans. “Yo,” he called. “Watch out behind you, dudette!” I didn’t spare a moment wondering what I was watching out for. I simply grabbed Maggie and pulled both of us to the side.
I felt Pricilla brush by and trip as I hadn’t quite
moved my foot quickly enough. She hit the floor with a loud smack that once again reverberated through the school, followed by laughter all around. The teen in the Metallica shirt pumped his fist.
Pricilla’s mouth
formed a perfect O as she pushed to her knees and glared at me. “You.” She pointed at me. “You did that on purpose!”
“Did what?
Move out of the way so you couldn’t knock me on my ass? Yeah, I did, but seeing you fall on yours wasn’t planned, just a bonus.”
“Shut up and help me up
,” Princess P demanded.
“What, so you can pull me down?” I said as Maggie mov
ed to offer a hand to Pricilla. I yanked her back with a sigh, knowing that some people just don’t learn.
Pricilla looked over to the side, batted her lashes
, and a pair of hormone-driven teenage boys came to her rescue. Once she was vertical again, she patted their cheeks and then pointed to the floor for her things. The two boys obediently went to work. I couldn’t help but wonder if she planned on throwing a dog biscuit their way when they were done.
Pricilla turned on me, her pretty eyes ablaze in anger. “You must be the new girl. Brianna…”
“Bristol,” I corrected.
“Whatever
.” Pricilla shrugged. “Bristol Blackburn, of the Blackburn clan. Well, let me welcome you back to Spirit. Personally, I’ve never had much use for Blackburns. I prefer the McKnights.”
“Whatever,” I said
. “I’ve got to go.”
“Uh
-huh,” Pricilla said, giving me one last look up and down. “I’m sure we’ll
run
into each other again.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said. “Can’t hardly wait. Any idea how to get to…” I looked at my schedule. “Mr. Nataldo’s history class?”
“Sure.” Pricilla smiled sweetly. “Down the hall to the right.” She pointed out the way with a perfectly manicured nail.
“Thanks
.” I took off down the hall, making sure to turn left.
Maggie was by my side in an instant
; the Metallica kid fell in step as well. “Hey, I’ve got Nataldo now,” Maggie said. “I can take you. If that’s all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I asked.
“Great!” She beamed. “Hey, how did you know Pricilla told you the wrong direction?”
I stopped in my tracks and stared at her. The Metallica kid shook his head. “How could I not?”
Maggie thought about it a moment. “Right. I’m a dummy. Okay. By the way, Maggie Sheppard,” she said as she stuck out her hand and flashed what I thought was a very pretty smile.
“Bristol Blackburn
.” I took her hand firmly and gave it a quick shake. I looked at the Metallica kid over her shoulder, who just shrugged.
“Right,” Maggie said
, and we started walking again. “It’s right at the end of the hall. I did hear about a new girl coming to school here. It’s been all anyone could talk about. The Blackburn who left Spirit is returning. Very dramatic. Still, I was kinda hoping we could be friends. You know, being like roomies and all.”
“Huh?” I said.
Maggie blinked. “Oh, you know your old house? I live there. The one where your parents lived.”
“Right
.” I nodded. “I don’t think I ever saw that house. And if I did, I was just a baby.”
“I’m sleeping in the room
your mom and dad prepared for you. You should come by and see it.”
I sighed. I was never going to get rid of her. She was like a stray puppy
. Once you feed it, it follows you forever. Not that Maggie was hard to like. She seemed real sweet and sincere. It was hard to be annoyed by her, but how was I supposed to keep my secret a secret if she was always around?
“Maggie has had
, like, mucho bad luck in the amigo department,” Metallica Kid said as we made our way down the hall. “No street smarts, but I sense in her a true friend to the end. And she’s really got a bodacious bod if you ask me. Personally, I always liked a little meat on the bones. That Pricilla chick is too supermodel for me. You’re pretty smokin’, too.”
Metallica K
id checked me out, and I rolled my eyes.
“This is it,” Maggie said. “C’mon, let’s get seats in the back
, and I’ll tell you all about school.”
“Be there in a sec,” I said as I dug around in my bag for nothing. Maggie ran inside and claimed a pair of chairs in the back. I looked at Metallica
Kid.
“Thanks for the heads up, by the way,” I said under my breath.
“No problema,” he said and started to back away. “By the way, you can call me Jake.
Hasta
mañana
, babe!” He gave me a two-fingered salute before fading through a wall.
I made it to my seat just as the bell rang. Maggie s
at there, happy as a puppy that just got a brand new bone. I could almost hear her tail thumping on the ground.
So, to take stock of my first day of school so far, I ha
d made my first friend in Maggie, my first enemy in Pricilla, and met my first ghost of the school in Jake. It’s good to work fast.
Later, when lunch came, I finally fel
t free to ask Maggie questions. She would most likely be thrilled to answer them.
Upon arriving at the cafeteria, I learned Maggie hadn’t lost any of her enthusiasm for our newfound friendship. In fact, the small separation seemed to have made her gusto grow. I found her holding a lunch tray, standing in the middle of the room
, trying to find someplace to sit. There were plenty of empty spaces, but every time she approached a vacant seat, whoever was already sitting at the table would look up, causing her to shrink away.
I went up to her and indicated a table where there was room before proceeding to walk over and park my derrière. Maggie followed and sat opposite me.
“So, how has your first day been?” she asked.
I shrugged as I struggled to open my milk. “Fine, I guess. You’ve been there for most of it. Except math.”
“Yeah, I’m in Connoly’s class,” she said, looking down at her hands. “Stupid, really. Don’t see why.”
“What’s wrong with
Connoly?”
Maggie shrugged. “Nothing.”
I wondered if it was a remedial math class and decided to change the subject to not embarrass Maggie. “So tell me something,” I said as casually as I could. “What was Pricilla saying about preferring the McKnights? Who are they?”
“Another family here in town,” Maggie explained. “Like your family, in a way. Seems to be dozens of them around. This town was built by Blackburns and McKnights.”
“Really?”
“Yeah
.” Maggie leaned in like she was going to whisper a deep, dark secret. “From what I hear, Blackburns hate the McKnights and vice versa. There’s some feud between the families that goes back years.”
I bit into my apple.
“Any idea what the feud is about?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Maggie shook her head. “Nope, but whenever something bad happens to someone in one family, they always blame the other family, no matter what it is. If a McKnight gets in a car accident, it’s somehow the fault of a Blackburn. If a Blackburn slips and falls in the tub and kills themselves, it’s the fault of a McKnight.”