gone upstairs like I asked and hadn’t left. I frowned at the crowd in the living room. There were atleast thirty kids in there, plus more in the kitchen. Shockingly, Faye hadn’t kept her word.
The front door opened as more kids readied themselves to come in. I darted up to it and slammed and locked it closed.
Faye stomped over. “What are you doing?”
“You said no more than twenty people. No one else is coming in.”
Faye rolled her eyes. “Loosen up, Jade. I let you bring in Robot Girl and Killer Boy.”
Righteous anger burned through my veins. Who did she think she was? This was my house and my party. And though Faye had deluded herself into thinking she ruled the school, she certainly didn’t rule me. I didn’t know what kind of girl she was used to, but I cared more about my dignity than popularity. I swelled up with confidence and spoke firmly, “Faye, I’m going upstairs for a minute. When I come back, there’d better be ten less people in this house. If there aren’t, the whole party ends.”
I went straight up the stairs and didn’t look back, but enjoyed imagining the shocked expression on Faye’s face. I felt exhilarated after standing up for myself. But when I reached the landing, my elation evaporated. I never could cross the top step without thinking of Kayla.
My thoughts muddled again, I turned down the hallway. For some reason, I’d expected Donovan to be waiting in my room. But instead he was standing outside Colby’s closed door. The old Donovan was back — shoulders hunched, sad aura pulsing from him.
And as I stepped up to him, I realized why.
“This was her room, wasn’t it?” I said gently.
“Yeah,” he said, staring at Colby’s door. “She had framed black-and-white photos all over the walls. There was always a stack of fashion magazines three feet high on the floor next to her bed.” He looked at me quickly, then away again. “I imagine it’s different now.”
“Yeah, take all that away and replace it with Star Wars.”
Donovan gave me a curious look.
“It’s my little brother’s room,” I explained. What I didn’t say out loud was that now I knew why Kayla’s ghost appeared most often in there. Colby’s room had been hers.
Donovan turned away from the door and faced me. “Sorry about downstairs.”
“You’re not the one who needs to apologize,” I said. “And the party was kind of sucking, anyway. The only reason people even came was because this was Kayla’s house.” I groaned. “I can’t escape her.”
My hand flew to my mouth. Fantastic. Here he was mourning and I’d basically bad-mouthed and complained about the girl he was missing so much. Normally, I’d have more tact, but I felt so comfortable with Donovan that the truth kept slipping out before I could stop it.
I was about to apologize, but Donovan gazed into my eyes and said, “I know how that feels. When people see me, they don’t think, ‘There’s Donovan O’Mara.’ They think, ‘There’s the guy who may have killed Kayla Sloane.’”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “About your losing her.”
He shook his head. “I’d already lost her.”
I scrunched my forehead in confusion and he added, “The day she died, I came here to break up with her.”
The front door slammed so forcefully, the house shook. Raised yet muffled voices drifted upstairs. Then the door opened and shut again.
I clenched my jaw. “I have to go deal with this before they wake my brother up.” I gripped the banister tightly as I descended the stairs, mostly out of anger that my time with Donovan was interrupted.
When I reached the bottom, a girl with a horrified look on her face shouted, “I’m leaving, too,” as she tore out the front door, slamming it behind her.
What was going on? I’d asked Faye to thin the crowd, not rile them up. I turned the corner into the living room and stopped short.
Less than twenty people remained now, but they were all clumped around the coffee table. The
The front door opened as more kids readied themselves to come in. I darted up to it and slammed and locked it closed.
Faye stomped over. “What are you doing?”
“You said no more than twenty people. No one else is coming in.”
Faye rolled her eyes. “Loosen up, Jade. I let you bring in Robot Girl and Killer Boy.”
Righteous anger burned through my veins. Who did she think she was? This was my house and my party. And though Faye had deluded herself into thinking she ruled the school, she certainly didn’t rule me. I didn’t know what kind of girl she was used to, but I cared more about my dignity than popularity. I swelled up with confidence and spoke firmly, “Faye, I’m going upstairs for a minute. When I come back, there’d better be ten less people in this house. If there aren’t, the whole party ends.”
I went straight up the stairs and didn’t look back, but enjoyed imagining the shocked expression on Faye’s face. I felt exhilarated after standing up for myself. But when I reached the landing, my elation evaporated. I never could cross the top step without thinking of Kayla.
My thoughts muddled again, I turned down the hallway. For some reason, I’d expected Donovan to be waiting in my room. But instead he was standing outside Colby’s closed door. The old Donovan was back — shoulders hunched, sad aura pulsing from him.
And as I stepped up to him, I realized why.
“This was her room, wasn’t it?” I said gently.
“Yeah,” he said, staring at Colby’s door. “She had framed black-and-white photos all over the walls. There was always a stack of fashion magazines three feet high on the floor next to her bed.” He looked at me quickly, then away again. “I imagine it’s different now.”
“Yeah, take all that away and replace it with Star Wars.”
Donovan gave me a curious look.
“It’s my little brother’s room,” I explained. What I didn’t say out loud was that now I knew why Kayla’s ghost appeared most often in there. Colby’s room had been hers.
Donovan turned away from the door and faced me. “Sorry about downstairs.”
“You’re not the one who needs to apologize,” I said. “And the party was kind of sucking, anyway. The only reason people even came was because this was Kayla’s house.” I groaned. “I can’t escape her.”
My hand flew to my mouth. Fantastic. Here he was mourning and I’d basically bad-mouthed and complained about the girl he was missing so much. Normally, I’d have more tact, but I felt so comfortable with Donovan that the truth kept slipping out before I could stop it.
I was about to apologize, but Donovan gazed into my eyes and said, “I know how that feels. When people see me, they don’t think, ‘There’s Donovan O’Mara.’ They think, ‘There’s the guy who may have killed Kayla Sloane.’”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “About your losing her.”
He shook his head. “I’d already lost her.”
I scrunched my forehead in confusion and he added, “The day she died, I came here to break up with her.”
The front door slammed so forcefully, the house shook. Raised yet muffled voices drifted upstairs. Then the door opened and shut again.
I clenched my jaw. “I have to go deal with this before they wake my brother up.” I gripped the banister tightly as I descended the stairs, mostly out of anger that my time with Donovan was interrupted.
When I reached the bottom, a girl with a horrified look on her face shouted, “I’m leaving, too,” as she tore out the front door, slamming it behind her.
What was going on? I’d asked Faye to thin the crowd, not rile them up. I turned the corner into the living room and stopped short.
Less than twenty people remained now, but they were all clumped around the coffee table. The
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