I shrugged rather than answering. But thinking and doing are two very different things.
“It was sunny, but the water was freezing and I went out anyway. I was out way too deep in the water by myself—me, the water, and my chattering teeth. And I may have been a little drunk, so I wasn’t thinking very clearly. And I laid back floating with this little noodle thing, and I looked at the sky and wished I could just float out into the ocean and die.”
I checked my spider senses, but they didn’t seem to be tingling. I cautiously concluded that she was telling the truth. For now.
“So I . . . I had a good cry and started swimming in. And I noticed I was out farther than I thought and I tried to fight the stupid current—which you’re not supposed to do—and after a while I was so cold and tired I couldn’t hold on to the noodle anymore and I sank.” She looked up at me, her eyes wet. “And it turns out that all of your problems are actually worse when you’re dead. Stealing included.”
“But you couldn’t steal stuff anymore. Wasn’t that better?”
“I wish,” she said. “Cold-turkey withdrawals are a bitch. I couldn’t touch anything. The first few months were hell. No, really,” she said, turning to me for a second. “I thought I was in hell. Everything in me screamed out to grab things, to take things, and I. Just. Couldn’t. And it hurt. I spent so much time yelling and screaming and cursing God, and Buddha, and Allah, and anyone else who might have made me a ghost. But it was no use.” She gestured to herself. “Obviously.”
“Did the urges finally wear off?”
She shrugged noncommittally. “Yes and no. I mean, I found ways to deal with it—I had no choice—but it’s like being an alcoholic or a chain-smoker or something. You can quit, but you never lose that urge, especially when you’re around the good stuff. And I’m around stuff all the time. The best I can do is distract myself with other things. I can go wherever I want and listen to private conversations. Spy on private moments. Sometimes stealing people’s privacy feels almost as good as taking their stuff. But it’s not . . . it’s not the same. And it’s—” She paused for a second to take a few breaths and get a hold of her emotions. “It’s just so damn hard.”
“I didn’t know,” I said quietly. “I mean, I knew about the kleptomania, but I didn’t know it affected you like this. I . . . I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t want you to know. I just wanted to get the stuff returned and move on, whatever that means.” She shrugged helplessly. “And now that’s not going to happen.” She flopped back onto my bed and started to cry again.
“Don’t cry, Kim, please,” I implored. “We’ll find a way. We’ll make things happen.”
She opened her wet, black-lined eyes and looked at me. “Do you think so?”
I knew the life or death of her hope lay in my answer. An answer I already knew was going to have to be a lie. “I know it,” I said, with as much conviction as I could muster. Faith was never my strong suit; I’d never had any use for it. But even when all I really felt was doubt, Kimberlee needed more than ifs and maybes. “We’ll find a way. I—” This was the hardest part to say. “I’ll help you.”
A little part of me died inside at that. I knew I would help her—in the past month we’d become . . . I wasn’t sure friends was the right word, but we were something. So I’d help. But what would it cost me? At the very least I’d have to lie to both Khail and Sera. And until when? I was out of ideas.
But she had no one else.
“Really?” She pushed up on her elbows, her eyes brightening a little.
“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Of course.” I smiled. “I’m the one who can see you; that must mean that I can help you. We just have to figure out how.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “If taking all that stuff back didn’t work, I don’t know what will.”
“We’ll think about it for a few days,” I said, trying to stave off the panic while keeping my expression totally impassive. “Something will come up. We’ll find the answer.”
Kimberlee looked down at the floor for a long time before looking me in the eyes. “Thank you,” she said, her voice low. Then her eyes darted away.
“You’re welcome.” I cocked my head toward the bathroom. “I gotta get in the shower,” I said. “Turns out, it is another day.”
Kimberlee rubbed her arm across her face, swiping away her tears. She had put her game face back on. Her face that held the world at bay and didn’t let anyone get too close—or know how much she was hurting. The face I was used to.
Kimberlee was back.
Twenty-Nine
KIMBERLEE FOLLOWED ME around school all day again, but she kept her distance and didn’t speak. Even with her brave front, she wasn’t exactly jovial, and a cloud of gloom seemed to encompass her. After all these weeks with a ghost in my life, I was finally feeling haunted.
And she wasn’t the only one acting weird.
“You want to come over after school today?” Sera asked, a little too cheerily. “My parents are both out of town and Khail has a big party after wrestling to celebrate the guys going to State.”
State. I am such a bad friend. I hadn’t even asked which of my guys had made it to State. I’d been so concerned about the last return that I didn’t ask how the qualifying match went.
“We could have some actual alone time,” she said, snuggling against me.
Any other time I would have been all over that idea, but everything felt strange today. My whole life felt was upside down, and my brain kept reminding me that Sera had lied and I hated that. Still . . . I wasn’t going to turn down an invitation like this.
I tried to give Kimberlee an apologetic look as I walked out the door with Sera after school, but I wasn’t sure she caught it. Still, she’d forgive me. She didn’t really have a choice. She was stuck with me. Forever, maybe.
Or was I stuck with her?
I tried to push thoughts of forever to the back of my head, but they were there, lurking just out of sight. Sera let us into her house and we went into the kitchen to grab something to eat. She chattered as she did, but I had a hard time following her conversation for more than about ten seconds. The third time I said something like, “Huh? Yeah. What?” she sighed and looked at me with one hand on her hip.
“You’re so distracted today. Come here.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind her.
The Hewitts had an awesome media room, dominated by a sectional with an enormous middle piece that was like five feet wide and turned the whole sofa into what looked like the most massive bed ever. You could just sink into it and it molded around your body with the perfect combination of softness and support. Seriously, best make-out couch ever.
And, as yet, untried by me.
Sera put on a movie, but I figured it was just for background noise when she lay down beside me and wrapped her arms around my ribs and let one leg slide up to rest on my thigh.
I leaned toward her and pressed my face against her neck. She started to kiss me and for a while I kissed her back, starting to feel like I could let everything else in my life go and just focus on her, but my thoughts kept returning to Kimberlee, going through everything she had told me. I tried to figure out what could be left for her to do.
And why me? Why was I, of all people, supposed to help her? Was there something special about me that related to what she had to do? It made sense, but I couldn’t figure out just what it was. Maybe if we had a long talk tonight I could find out something she hadn’t wanted to tell me yet. Something she—
“Hello?” Sera said, waving a hand in front of her face.
My eyes snapped back down to her and I groaned. I’d wanted a day like this forever and I just couldn’t enjoy it. “I’m sorry,” I said. “This is great and you’re awesome and I’ve wanted to be alone like this for ages, and I’m just so—”
“Distracted?” Sera offered.
I nodded glumly.
Sera settled herself beside me. “Me too,” she
said quietly. “I’ve been planning this since I found out last week that both my parents were leaving,” she said, looking up at me from underneath her eyelashes. “I wanted . . . I wanted this to be really special. But things are kind of weird in my life, and you’re obviously stressed about something and . . . well, I should probably stop trying to force it.”
“It’s okay,” I said, slinging an arm around her. She curled herself against me. I knew I should probably keep quiet, but I wanted to tell someone. “I’ve been working on a big problem that I thought I finally fixed, but it turns out I was wrong. I’m back at square one.” But rather than making me feel better, saying the words out loud made the hopelessness of the situation seem suddenly overwhelming. If anything, I was worse off than when I first met Kimberlee. At least at that point we thought we knew what to do. Now we had nothing.
“Care to share?” Sera asked quietly.
I wanted to. I wanted to so badly, but I knew I couldn’t. “It’s really complicated,” I said, stalling. “How about this?” I suggested, leaning to kiss her forehead. “When I figure it out, I’ll tell you.” And hopefully by that time, you’ll have forgotten all about it.
“Fair enough.”
I was silent for a moment, then it was my turn to press. “What about you?” I asked. “You’ve been pretty distracted yourself.”
I felt her whole body stiffen against me.
“Hey,” I said, in my most gentle voice, hoping that being nonconfrontational might encourage her to confide in me. I hesitated, then decided to confess what I knew. “Listen, I saw you get called into Hennigan’s office again on Friday. And you don’t have to tell me what happened, but you don’t have to lie, either.” Please just don’t lie.
She sat up, her jaw clenched. “It’s no big deal,” she said, scooting herself off the couch.
“It is a big deal,” I said, following her. “It’s a big deal because it upsets you so much. I don’t like things upsetting you like this. Especially not Mr. Loser-Hennigan.”
“He’s not a loser; he’s a snake,” Sera retorted so sharply I backed away a little. “He’s a sneaky, blackmailing snake and I hate him!” The flare of anger settled into a bitter cold as she paced. “Not that it’s really his fault. I’m not going to fall in the trap like everybody else in the school. Just being all happy about all this stuff coming back,” she said in a singsong voice, “and not realizing that they shouldn’t be happy. They should be pissed at the person who started everything. Everything is her fault. Hennigan, the stupid returns, everything. I swear, I am never going to be free of Kimberlee Schaffer.”
At the mention of Kimberlee’s name I sat up and swore under my breath.
“What?” Sera said, looking at me in a way that made me glad I didn’t have a mirror.
“Why . . . how . . . I don’t . . .” I paused and tried to collect my thoughts. “Why do you hate her so much? Why can’t you just move on and let this go? You don’t know what kind of life she had. Maybe she had problems, Sera.”
“Everyone does; that doesn’t mean they treat the world like shit.”
“Maybe her problems were that big.” Big enough to contemplate suicide and then to keep her here as a ghost.
“And maybe it doesn’t matter. Some things aren’t justifiable, Jeff.”
“I’m not trying to justify anything. But sometimes there’s more to people than you think.” Who was I lecturing now? I felt like this was what I needed to hear, not Sera.
“And you know this why? She was dead by the time you moved here.”
“But I—” I paused and chose my words carefully. “I’ve been hearing a lot of stories. It sounds like she was really messed up—like she had problems and no one bothered to understand.”
“Well, she didn’t make it very easy.”
“It sounds that way. But she’s gone now. Wouldn’t it be healthier for you to let her go? She’s dead. Isn’t it bad to speak ill of the dead?”
“What do you care? You don’t even believe in an afterlife.”
“I care because I care about you!” When had I started yelling?
“And she was awful to me. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Maybe it would mean more if you would just tell me what’s going on!”
Sera was yelling back now. “No offense but you’ve known me for, what, a month? Boyfriend or not, maybe I’m not ready to spill my life story, okay?”
Why was I demanding Sera level with me even though I hadn’t been honest with her? But I couldn’t seem to stop. After the way Kimberlee had fallen apart when she didn’t move on, I felt like I had to stand up for her. “She stole your stupid shoes and skirt. I can’t believe you’re still holding a grudge over that!”
Two red spots stood out on Sera’s face. “You have no idea what she did to me, Jeff. I’m warning you; don’t go there.”
But the picture of Kimberlee sobbing on my bed was too fresh. “Did you ever consider that maybe you can hurt people even after they’re dead? That people’s feelings live forever? You don’t ever think about how she feels. You’re just like everyone else. You want to be forgiven for what you did but you won’t forgive her.” I clamped my mouth shut. I hadn’t intended to confess that I knew.
Her cheeks flushed bright red. “Who told you?”
“I wish you had,” I said quietly.
She swallowed hard. “I couldn’t. I knew you wouldn’t . . . you wouldn’t—”
“Forgive you? Well, you were wrong.”
She looked down at her feet.
“I don’t care about your past, Sera. But I care about now. And if you won’t let go of this thing with Kimberlee, then I don’t know if we can—” I clamped my mouth shut. I’d been about to say I don’t know if we can be together. But I’d stopped too late; she knew where that sentence was going.
She was quiet for a long time, her eyes drilling into mine. When she spoke, her voice was soft, controlled, and full of fury. “You don’t know anything. No one does.” She hesitated. “Even my parents and Khail don’t know everything. You want me to forgive her? Believe me, I’m working on it.” Her voice rose now. “I’m trying because I can’t live with these awful feelings inside me. She was terrible, Jeff. Completely inhuman. She would shove me in the halls, break into my locker and soak my backpack, destroy my assignments and books. She beat me up in the locker room one day—slammed me against the lockers so hard I blacked out for a couple seconds. And I never understood why.”
I did. Or, at least, I knew the reasons. Understand was something I would probably never manage. “Why didn’t you tell someone?” I choked out.
“I did, eventually. But—” She hesitated. “Let’s just say my parents weren’t very interested in me at that point. And that didn’t help either. I felt abandoned on all fronts. When things got really bad I was into some pretty messed-up stuff, and I was superhigh one night when Khail found me and worked the whole story out of me. I hadn’t told anyone because Kimberlee was basically untouchable, since her parents paid for like half the school. That was about the time I . . . got shipped off to rehab,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “When I came back I was determined to be clean and start over, but I was terrified of Kimberlee. Khail promised me he’d . . . he’d taken care of it, and that Kimberlee wouldn’t bother me anymore, but I wasn’t sure I could believe him.”
“And then she died,” I said weakly. I knew the end of this story.
But Sera shook her head. “My first week back she cornered me in the parking lot before the game and cut off my hair, Jeff. She grabbed my braid and chopped it off. Who does that? A monster, that’s who.”
I stared at her in horror, not wanting to believe. But everything in her eyes told me she was telling the truth. This was it—what I’d been trying to get them both to confess from the beginning.
And it made my whole mouth sour.
“I never told Khail. Never told anyone. Just said I decided to get it cut—into a really extreme A-line,” she added with a gr
umble. I don’t think Khail suspected anything. I was tired of needing him to fix my problems, so I decided to just take it. And I did. For a couple weeks. Then . . . then she died.” Sera walked forward, her eyes glittering with anger. “And you know what I felt, Jeff? Relief. No, it was more than that. I felt safe. For the first time in ages, I felt safe.”
“I—”
“Don’t. Don’t say anything. Just go get into your car and leave. I can’t talk to you right now.”
“Sera, I—”
“Please go,” she whispered.
I was in my car, driving aimlessly, a few minutes later. What had I done? After feeling sure that I had learned to see Kimberlee for what she was—especially this morning—she’d completely suckered me. She wasn’t a lost soul waiting to move on; she was a demon cursed to live a hollow eternity on earth.
I stopped the car in front of my house and stared up at my bedroom window. She’d be there. Where else would she be? As I pulled into the garage I went over Sera’s story in my head, stoking my anger. I punched the button to close the garage door and slammed the kitchen door open. No one was home and I was glad. I couldn’t have kept this quiet if I had wanted to—and I didn’t. I stomped up the stairs and threw open my bedroom door. Kimberlee was sprawled in front of the TV that I had started just leaving on when I left for school. I grabbed the remote and turned it off, flooding the room with silence. Kimberlee looked up at me, her eyes wide and questioning. And maybe a little scared.
“What did you do?”
“Do? I can’t do anything.”
“To Sera, when you were alive? What did you do!” I’d never been a shouter, but something about Kimberlee brought that side of me out.
Kimberlee rolled her eyes. “Is the little princess making up stories?”
“They’re not stories, Kimberlee, and you know it.”
Her face closed into an unreadable expression.
I took a step back and put my hands on my hips. “I want to hear it from you.”
She forced a smile, but fakeness radiated from her so brightly I couldn’t believe I’d ever been fooled. “I stole her skirt and shoes. I already admitted I shouldn’t have done that.”