is.
But... She's my sister. I don't
want to see her do this. Why can't she fixate on one of the
multitude of boys in our school who'd die for just one date with
her? Why does she have to be set on the popular boy with the huge
ego and multiple personalities?
I can't stand listening anymore,
so I go back to the other version of myself. But I don't want to
listen to her either, don't want to look at her vapid adoration of
someone who's betraying her. He doesn't care about her even half as
much as she cares about him, that's obvious. If he did his
attention wouldn't keep wandering back to Bobbi, would it? And if
he wants a cheerleader that bad... What would he want with a
pseudo-punk semi-goth chick like Drew McKinney? No, he's only with
her because she'll put out for him and the cheerleader won't.
Simple as that. I don't know why she doesn't see it. Why I never
saw it.
Maybe Bobbi and I have certain
traits in common.
Depressed, more alone than I
ever was in life, and just miserable in general, I leave, looking
for somewhere else to haunt. My feet take me on autopilot to Fray.
We've just met, but he's fundamentally my only friend in the world.
Good thing I'm not used to having many of them anyway.
Chapter Twelve
The door of the hunting club is
propped open to let in the fall air for the patrons, who are
mesmerized by the football game on the screens behind the bar.
Since the last time I was in, the place has been redecorated with
spiderwebs and hanging bats. It's kind of sad to think that as a
ghost Halloween will be just another day for me.
Fray's perched on a stool the
living are giving a wide berth despite its excellent view of Blue
Ridge State getting clobbered in the first. I glare at the TV,
hoping Finn's future alma mater looses so horrifically they scrap
their football program entirely. Down by fourteen with only three
minutes played, they just might.
The crowd grumbles as the local
boys punt the ball back into their opponents' possession. My mouth
twists into a dark smile. Yeah, see how much funding the football
program gets after a game like this.
My ghostly friend whistles as he
turns my way. “Such venom, luv. What'd your boy do now?”
“Not my boy.” I lean against the
edge of the bar, fold my arms tightly, and glare at the floor. The
guy a seat down looks over with an uncomfortable frown and shifts
to the far edge of his stool before downing about half of beer in
his glass.
“Of course not,” Fray agrees,
holding back laughter. “So this has nothing to do with Finn trying
to hook up with your sister?”
If my eyes narrowed any further,
they'd be closed.
“You think he's using her,” Fray
says. “But she seems willing to be used.”
Glass starts to rattle. The
big-haired bartender grabs two of the closest bottles and looks at
the rest of the liquor shelf with alarm.
“That an earthquake?” someone
asks.
“The earth ain't shaking,” she
tells him. “It's that ghost. Same one that messes with the TV.”
Oh, crap. I take a moment to try
to calm down until everything settles.
“Are you trying to tell us
something, spirit?” Big-Hair asks the air, very loud and very slow,
like some people talk to young children or foreigners.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Lay off on the
hairspray.”
“You need to get a handle on
that, you know.” Fray gives me a look I'm well familiar with. It's
the same look my parents give me almost every time they see me.
“I know.” Sighing, I shake my
head and look at my boots while the bartender continues trying to
get a response from her ghost.
“Can I help?”
My throat gets tight for a
second. No one has ever followed that 'You need to sort out your
life' look with that question before. “Sure. Tell me how to get rid
of Cooper Finnegan.”
“Get rid of..?”
“I'm not going to kill him.”
Fray nods. “Then you can't.”
“What? But there has to be a
way. You haven't been haunting this club forever. It was built,
when? The seventies? The
But... She's my sister. I don't
want to see her do this. Why can't she fixate on one of the
multitude of boys in our school who'd die for just one date with
her? Why does she have to be set on the popular boy with the huge
ego and multiple personalities?
I can't stand listening anymore,
so I go back to the other version of myself. But I don't want to
listen to her either, don't want to look at her vapid adoration of
someone who's betraying her. He doesn't care about her even half as
much as she cares about him, that's obvious. If he did his
attention wouldn't keep wandering back to Bobbi, would it? And if
he wants a cheerleader that bad... What would he want with a
pseudo-punk semi-goth chick like Drew McKinney? No, he's only with
her because she'll put out for him and the cheerleader won't.
Simple as that. I don't know why she doesn't see it. Why I never
saw it.
Maybe Bobbi and I have certain
traits in common.
Depressed, more alone than I
ever was in life, and just miserable in general, I leave, looking
for somewhere else to haunt. My feet take me on autopilot to Fray.
We've just met, but he's fundamentally my only friend in the world.
Good thing I'm not used to having many of them anyway.
Chapter Twelve
The door of the hunting club is
propped open to let in the fall air for the patrons, who are
mesmerized by the football game on the screens behind the bar.
Since the last time I was in, the place has been redecorated with
spiderwebs and hanging bats. It's kind of sad to think that as a
ghost Halloween will be just another day for me.
Fray's perched on a stool the
living are giving a wide berth despite its excellent view of Blue
Ridge State getting clobbered in the first. I glare at the TV,
hoping Finn's future alma mater looses so horrifically they scrap
their football program entirely. Down by fourteen with only three
minutes played, they just might.
The crowd grumbles as the local
boys punt the ball back into their opponents' possession. My mouth
twists into a dark smile. Yeah, see how much funding the football
program gets after a game like this.
My ghostly friend whistles as he
turns my way. “Such venom, luv. What'd your boy do now?”
“Not my boy.” I lean against the
edge of the bar, fold my arms tightly, and glare at the floor. The
guy a seat down looks over with an uncomfortable frown and shifts
to the far edge of his stool before downing about half of beer in
his glass.
“Of course not,” Fray agrees,
holding back laughter. “So this has nothing to do with Finn trying
to hook up with your sister?”
If my eyes narrowed any further,
they'd be closed.
“You think he's using her,” Fray
says. “But she seems willing to be used.”
Glass starts to rattle. The
big-haired bartender grabs two of the closest bottles and looks at
the rest of the liquor shelf with alarm.
“That an earthquake?” someone
asks.
“The earth ain't shaking,” she
tells him. “It's that ghost. Same one that messes with the TV.”
Oh, crap. I take a moment to try
to calm down until everything settles.
“Are you trying to tell us
something, spirit?” Big-Hair asks the air, very loud and very slow,
like some people talk to young children or foreigners.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Lay off on the
hairspray.”
“You need to get a handle on
that, you know.” Fray gives me a look I'm well familiar with. It's
the same look my parents give me almost every time they see me.
“I know.” Sighing, I shake my
head and look at my boots while the bartender continues trying to
get a response from her ghost.
“Can I help?”
My throat gets tight for a
second. No one has ever followed that 'You need to sort out your
life' look with that question before. “Sure. Tell me how to get rid
of Cooper Finnegan.”
“Get rid of..?”
“I'm not going to kill him.”
Fray nods. “Then you can't.”
“What? But there has to be a
way. You haven't been haunting this club forever. It was built,
when? The seventies? The
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