Price was moody and quiet the entire bus ride home. Kylee fiddled with the ring on her finger, now a dark blue and cold against her skin. The light was nearly out already. How much time did she have?
A slow, dull drizzle started as the bus plodded along. Price did nothing to try to shield himself from the rain when he got off. Kylee wished she had an umbrella as the cold water droplets soaked into her hair. She felt a chill creep over her and had to remind herself she was dead.
Price started to unlock his bike and let out a loud sigh.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, trying to stay close to the cover the bus station provided.
“I can’t ride my bike home in this.” He pulled his bike from the rack and retreated to the safety of the covered station. “I’ll have to call my dad.”
They sat alone at the bus station waiting for Mr. Hudson. The wind blew harder, pushing the rain to fall at an angle. Price huddled at one end of the bench, his hands clasped and resting on his jean-clad knees. Kylee hugged hers to her chest and rested her cheek on them, trying to get warm.
Even though they were on the same bench, she felt as if they were miles apart. She cleared her throat and raised her voice to be heard over the droning rain. “So, you’re going to ignore me now? Angry at me because I’ve decided to move on?”
Price didn’t answer, but his shoulders hunched forward.
She felt a stab of frustration. “There’s nobody here to notice you talking to me, you know.”
Still no answer. He’s upset, she told herself. Sad. Whatever. How could he abandon her now? She let her legs drop to the concrete and stood up.
“Sorry I turned out to be a ghost. Must’ve put a real damper on your life. I can find my own way home, thanks.”
She should’ve provoked him earlier. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist as she walked by.
“I didn’t care, you know. I figured it out weeks ago. That you’re dead. And I didn’t care.”
“And now? Now that you know I’m not going to stick around, you’re done with me?”
“How can you say that?” He released her and shoved his hands through his damp hair. He dropped them back over his face and left them there.
Kylee lowered onto the bench again, closer this time. “Okay, I’m sorry. I don’t get what you’re going through.” She touched his back, but he stiffened and jerked away from her. She withdrew, holding both hands in her lap and waiting for a response from him. When he didn’t say anything else, she couldn’t help throwing out, “But you don’t get what I’m going through, either.”
He snorted through his hands. “Yeah. You’re right.” Still, he didn’t lower his hands.
The black BMW pulled up beside them, and Mr. Hudson jumped out. “Price! What are you doing out here in the open?” He glanced at the awning covering the bus station. “You’ll catch your death in this weather!”
Price mumbled something under his breath and helped his dad load the bike onto the rack on the bumper. He opened the passenger door. For a moment, Kylee thought he was going to get in and leave her. Then he opened the back door long enough to toss something from the front to the back, and Kylee scrambled in. He met her eyes before closing the door.
They drove in silence, the swish of the windshield wipers and the occasional blinker the only noises over the pattering rain.
Mr. Hudson pulled the car into the garage. “Price, I want you to go straight upstairs and take a warm shower. Shake off some of that cold.” He shook his head. “I knew it looked like rain this morning. Never should’ve let you go.”
“I’m fine, Dad.” Price didn’t budge from his seat. “I’ll be right in.”
“What’s wrong, son? Did something happen at the beach?”
Stolen story; please report.
“I’m fine.” Price’s words came out short and clipped. They left no room for further questioning.
“I’ll put on a cup of coffee.” His father closed the door and walked the ramp into the house, casting one last glance over his shoulder at Price.
Kylee opened her door and let herself out. “Can you open the garage door long enough for me to go home? Or do I need to sneak out a window?”
Price got out too. “I’ll open the door.”
“Thanks for the consideration.” She balled her hands into fists and waited while the heavy metal door groaned and creaked its way to the top. She stomped out into the rain. Where did she go now? She belonged in a grave.
“Kylee,” he whispered.
She turned back from her angry exit, softening at the sight of his stricken face, the wide eyes and down-turned mouth.
“Don’t leave me.”
She’d left him before she met him. Kylee stepped back into the garage and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling how he shivered from the damp clothing. “Your dad’s right. Go take a shower. Get warm.”
His hands closed around her wrists, holding her in place. “Listen, Ky. You’re not doing this alone.” He clenched his teeth, the muscle in his jaw pulsing. “If you’re so determined, so eager—then you’ll have to accept my help.”
How could she say yes? Price would be in danger. He might die. But if she said no, he very well might go crazy. “Okay,” she said. “But we do it my way.”
A smile softened Price’s expression, a glimmer of relief in his eyes. “Sure.”
Kylee held back a sigh. “Can you skip church tomorrow?”
Price gnawed his lower lip. “I’ll try. It’s kind of a big deal to my dad. Because of my mom. But maybe I can play sick.”
“Do it, then. Come over and we’ll talk.” She turned her body away from him, crossing her arms over her chest before he grabbed her again. She felt his eyes boring into her back, but Kylee forced herself not to look.
The walk in the cold, biting wind with the rain pummeling down on her lasted far longer than Kylee thought necessary. She wasn’t alive, after all. Shouldn’t she be able to blink and open her eyes in the warm dryness of her bedroom?
The front door was unlocked, and she let herself in. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the smoky gloom of the interior of the house. The ring was still glowing, at least. It seemed brighter than it had on the bus.
“Bill?” her mom called from the kitchen.
Bill didn’t stir from his spot in the den, and Kylee didn’t bother responding. She thought about banging cupboards and doors for her own amusement. But there wasn’t anything she wanted in the drawers, so what was the point? A part of her wished the fantasy of living could’ve continued; at least she’d been able to occupy herself.
She lay down on her bed and willed the time to pass. She wasn’t tired. She didn’t feel like reading her silly books about silly people and their silly hopes and dreams.
Each minute passed like the slow, steady ticking of a clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. The rooster crowed and Kylee tossed her pillow across the room. She hadn’t slept. But it was morning.
She climbed out the window and went across the yard to Price’s house. Low clouds hung in the sky, darkening the horizon and threatening rain. The house sat in dormant silence, as if it were a sentient being breathing deeply in its sleep. She settled herself on the porch swing and closed her eyes. The ring felt heavy and solid on her finger, no warmth or life in it. How long would she be here, waiting? Just waiting. She rocked the swing back and forth. The breeze whispered in her ear, wordless sounds about existence and purpose.
The house stirred, a deep breath expelling from its bowels as machines and electronics whirred to life inside. Voices followed, the high-pitched, excited tumble of Lisa’s voice, and the teasing, deeper sound of Price’s. Kylee braced herself. Yesterday had been awkward and painful. Like they were strangers pretending to be friends. How would today be?
The smells of coffee and toasted bread wafted through the closed house. Kylee imagined them eating, drinking steaming liquid out of mugs. She put herself in the picture, a normal teenage girl who could cut her hair if she wanted, change her outfit, and eat bread and jam.
Price said something to his father. Kylee couldn't make out the words, but she heard Mr. Hudson respond. She sat up on the swing and tried to listen. A dish clattered in the sink. Lisa started her chatter up again, but this time Price’s voice didn’t mingle with hers.
He must’ve gone upstairs. She hopped off the porch and peered up at Price’s window. The leaves of the vine climbing up the wall swayed in the breeze, taunting her to make her move. She wrapped a hand around the stalk and pulled. It barely budged. Really, though, if it broke and she fell, what was the worst that could happen? Gripping the vine with both hands, she put her feet on the wall and rappelled up.
She hesitated outside the window, then pressed her hand against the glass and knocked.
Price sat at the computer desk, his back to her. She knocked again, harder this time, the tapping sound barely audible on her side of the glass.
But he heard her.
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