“How do you know?” Price whispered back, matching her tone.
“He was horrible. He beat her. Sometimes she’d come to school with bruises. He never let her leave the house except for school. She came to my house one time, one time in four years. And my mother never let me go to hers.”
“And no one did anything?” Price’s fists clenched together. Kylee reached down and took his hand, gave it a squeeze.
Jessica shook her head. “The police were over there all the time. Everyone knew he was trouble. And then one day, she didn’t come back.”
“Come back?”
“To school.” Jessica gestured to the building behind them.
Kylee’s fingers closed around Price’s wrist. “Why?”
“Do you know why?” Price asked.
“No. But I bet it had to do with her stepdad. Maybe he hurt her so bad she couldn’t leave the house.”
The memory came to life on the heels of Jessica’s words, a painful visual of herself lying in bed, unable to move. “That’s what happened,” Kylee said with certainty. “He threw me into the wall, and I dislocated my shoulder. My left side was a massive bruise, from my cheek to my foot. I couldn’t walk without a limp.” She nodded, remembering. “My parents had been warned if they got another complaint about my condition, CPS would take me away. No questions asked.”
“So Bill took you out of school,” Price said. “Before any complaint could be made.”
“Not Bill.” Kylee shook her head. “My mom. It was my mom who didn’t want to lose me.”
“Your mom didn’t want to lose you?” Price said, cocking his head. “Or she didn’t want Bill to get in trouble?”
Kylee opened her mouth to defend her mother, but Jessica interrupted.
“What?” she said. “Bill? My mom? Are you still talking to me?”
“Oh.” Price shook himself. “I’m sorry. I was thinking out loud.” He placed both hands on Jessica’s shoulders. “Hey, thanks for talking to me. You’ve been helpful. Listen, let’s keep this conversation to ourselves, okay? Something’s not adding up here. I gotta figure it out.” He dropped his hands and started up the sidewalk.
“Can I help with anything else?” Jessica called after him.
Price turned around. “Yeah. Maybe. Go through your notes from her. Look for something, anything, that could be used against Bill. Let me know.”
“Who’s Bill?”
“Her stepdad.”
“Oh. Right.” She nodded. “Okay. I will.”
Kylee stood next to Jessica, wishing she could say something more. “You were a good friend to me, Jessica,” she whispered.
Jessica didn’t take her eyes from Price. After a moment, she shouldered her backpack and went into the building behind them.
A chill crept through Kylee’s belly, and she shuddered. She needed to catch up to Price. “Smart thinking,” she said, reaching out and taking hold of his forearm as he walked under the awning. The contact flooded her like a stimulant, and she straightened her shoulders. “I didn’t remember the notes we wrote until now.” She cringed a little, remembering her live self. “I was terrified of anyone finding out how dysfunctional my life was. I wanted to be normal and carefree like everyone else.”
“When did you start cutting?” Price asked.
Kylee sucked in a breath. “About two years ago.”
“Why?”
“Because of Bill.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not a fun memory, that’s why!” Kylee snapped. “Do you think people cut themselves because they’re happy?”
“Just one not-fun memory? Or lots of them?”
“I don’t know. I felt overwhelmed. I needed an escape. Maybe, that first time, I thought about killing myself, just to end my pathetic life. But I didn’t have to. Because cutting gave me the outlet I needed. It sharpened my focus and dulled my pain at the same time. Suddenly, I was in charge of what I felt.” She pushed her lips up into a grimace. “That made all the difference. I could endure.”
“I wish I’d known you,” Price said. His steps faltered. “I would’ve helped you.”
She shook her head. “You wouldn’t have noticed me. I was as invisible then as I am now. I worked hard not to be seen, and no one wanted to see me.” She paused, hating to admit this out loud. “You noticed me now because you had to. We were thrown together. You had to be my ‘ghost guide,’ or whatever.”
“No.” He spun to face her. “I don’t believe that. We would’ve felt the same for each other that we do now. Even if I wasn’t your type. You would’ve changed me. I would’ve saved you.”
His sincerity moved her, and she swallowed her emotion. “We’ll never know, will we?”
“I know.” He clasped her hand in both of his. “I know, Kylee.”
“We have a direction now,” Kylee said, much less interested in Price’s classes. Her mind buzzed with anticipation for their after-school activity. “We need to find out what evidence the police have for my death.” She sat next to him in his class, one hand on his thigh to keep constant contact. She didn’t want to risk going intangible again.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
“Mm-hmm.” Price didn’t look up from his oceanography equations.
“The evidence had to be planted. Because I didn’t kill myself. And if it was planted, there must be a way to prove it.”
“Hmm.”
“Why do you keep humming?” the girl next to Price whispered. Kylee caught a whiff of her perfume as she leaned closer to him.
“Oh.” Price leaned back and scratched his eyebrow. “Uh, nervous habit.”
Kylee chuckled. “Stop humming, Price.”
He gave a soft laugh also. The girl looked at him oddly.
Kylee tried to pay attention to the teacher, but she kept thinking about school getting out. “How do you think Bill arranged the evidence the way he did?”
Price shot her an unreadable look.
The bell rang, and Kylee was certain she was the most enthusiastic kid flying out the door.
“Kylee!” Price shook his head as he pulled her over to his locker. “Try to relax, okay? You’re way hyped up.”
“Right, right.” She took a deep breath. “I know.”
Price headed to the front of the building. Kylee stayed close behind, fingers grazing the bottom of his t-shirt. If she drifted too far away from him, coldness closed in around her like clouds blotting out the sun.
“It won’t take long to get to the police station,” Price said, pausing at the sidewalk and squinting up at the sky.
Several girls loitering around the benches spotted him. “Price!” they squealed in varying chords of harmony. They launched themselves off their benches and onto him, throwing their arms around his neck and squeezing his arms.
This was not new behavior. Kylee had watched girls fawn over him all day. It made her wonder, with these living, breathing girls around, why he wanted to be with her.
“Hey, hi,” he said, laughing and trying to escape their tentacles.
“No bus today?” A brunette with heavy eyeliner asked.
“Ah, no. I’ve got something to do.”
“Do you need a ride somewhere?” her loud, confident voice said.
The girls parted, giving Kylee a clear view of the girl with shoulder-length brown bob and a cropped white sweater.
“Not today,” Price said, taking a step backward. “I’m walking. It’s close by.”
She smiled, revealing some sort of clear plastic device on her teeth. “We were about to go out for fries. Want to come?”
“Wow, that’s nice, Mila, but I’m kind of in a hurry.”
“Someday you won’t turn me down,” she said. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
“I don’t need a—”
She shook her head, cutting off his protest. “Where am I taking you this time?”
Price scratched his eyebrow. “The police station?”
Mila puckered her lips, and some of the girls oohed. “Is that a question?” she asked.
“No, I need to go there.”
She jangled her keys. “You are more interesting every second, Price Hudson. Come on, ladies!”
They fell into step around Price, practically carrying him to the parking lot. Kylee stayed behind, though she wanted to wrestle her way into the middle and start throwing punches. A few bloody noses might get them off him.
Mila led them to a cherry-red pick-up truck. The large tires made it look bigger than it was. She hit the black knob in her hand and the vehicle unlocked.
“Shotgun?” Price suggested.
“And deprive everyone of your company?” Mila smiled. “Wouldn’t be fair.”
It took some hustling, but finally two girls sat up front with Mila and four in the back with Price. There was no way Kylee could sit with them. Frustrated, she hauled herself into the back of the pickup.
The engine engaged, and the only sound Kylee heard was the wind as it whipped her hair around her face. She imagined the laughter and giggling going on in the cab as four girls squished around Price. It took all her willpower not to turn around and watch them.
Two seconds later, the tires squealed as the vehicle came to a stop in front of the police station. Kylee rocked forward and gripped the sides of the car to keep from catapulting out. At least it was a short ride. She jumped out and marched to the sidewalk.
Mila got out first. She walked around the front of the vehicle and opened the back door. She stuck a hand in and retrieved Price from the mess of girls. He emerged, holding Mila’s hand, his face red and his hair mussed.
“Thanks,” he said, freeing his hand and wiping it on his pants.
Mila shook her head, her short brown hair tossing around. “Want me to wait around?”
“Oh, no, that’s all right.” Price shook his head. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on your, uh, fries.”
“Tell us how it goes tomorrow. I’ll be on pins and needles.” She lifted up on her toes with the last word, her face close to Price’s.
Kylee sat down on a bench and stared straight ahead. Her nature was far more jealous and insecure than she’d realized.
The truck pulled away and Price sat down beside her. “Sorry. That was awkward.”
She shrugged and clasped her hands together. “It was fine.” There wasn’t much point talking about it. He couldn’t help how they treated him.
“Listen.” Price pried her hand from her lap. “I’m only interested in you.”
She swallowed and forced a smile. “But not forever, Price. Someday you will be interested in them.”
He pressed his forehead to hers. “Forever, Kylee. I’m telling you. You’re the only one for me.”
She laughed and stood up. “Come on, Price. Don’t be so . . . I don’t know. You’ll find someone else. And you’ll be happy.”
“I don’t want to.”
She faced him. “But I want you to. Live. Let me live through you.” Just—not yet, she thought.
He avoided her eyes. “Let’s get inside. Ready?”
He strode past her, and she followed. “What’s the plan, again? What am I supposed to be doing?”
“We need to find out about your case.”
She waited, but that was the extent of Price’s advice. “Yeah, genius. But how?”
“You get a password so I can hack the computer system. Then we’ll study the official reports, autopsy, find out everything you want to know. So just, you know, sneak inside.” He ambled forward and opened the door. Kylee slipped in behind him.
While Price stood at the plastic window asking about volunteer opportunities, Kylee hurried down the hall. She followed the sound of voices and turned the corner into a room with a myriad of cubicles, desks, and officers milling about.
She paused. What now? Where to start? She spotted a cubicle with two chairs but only one officer. She sat down in the chair next to him and watched him for a bit. He sipped from his steaming mug and ran a hand over his slicked-back hair, then rubbed the scruff on his chin before jotting a few words down on a clipboard. Kylee found herself mesmerized by the swirling designs on his suspenders. He went back to typing on the computer, and she lost interest. How long would she have to wait before he had to log on?
Inspiration struck, and she slid out of the chair. Crawling under the desk, she spotted the glowing red light on the power strip with his devices plugged in. She pressed the button.
Nothing happened. The little red light still glowed.
Not again. Kylee focused her mental energy, picturing it gathering into a sparkling ball. Imagining the ball was at the tip of her finger, she pressed the button. She gasped as an icy shock rippled through her, starting in her finger and encompassing her whole body.
Kylee shrank back, shaking so badly she couldn’t move.
“Price,” she whispered. “Price!” She huddled up, wrapping her arms around her knees, and closed her eyes.
Dimly she became aware of voices rising, though only when the cop next to her pushed his chair out and turned around did she pay attention.
“What is it?” someone at a cubicle across from him asked.
“Don’t know.” He stood up, one hand on his gun belt.
The door to the room pushed open and Price burst in, an angry receptionist swelling behind him, grabbing at his clothing and yelling. “You can’t go in there!”
He ignored her. His eyes surveyed the room until he spotted Kylee, and he darted toward her.
“Stop right there, son!” the cop yelled, pulling a small black gun from his belt.
“No, Price, stop,” Kylee cried, reaching out to him. He couldn’t get shot, not on her account.
He didn’t stop. He crossed the distance between them and grabbed her hand. At the same instant, the cop fired his weapon.
image [https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/story_images/big_e09430100fdad92b255756074f8adb2d.jpeg]