“What does it mean?” Kylee asked.
“How should I know, Kylee?” Price responded, his tone taking on a perturbed edge.
She grabbed his hand, trying to hide her fear. Relief flooded her as warmth overtook the chill. She turned her hand up as the ring began to glow more.
She grabbed at the strap on Price’s backpack again. This time, she grasped the rough fabric between two fingers.
“Price,” she whispered, staring at it, “it’s you.” Someone bumped into her shoulder, and she shuffled closer to him.
“What’s me?”
“Madame Humphrey said you give me life. She meant it. Like, really. I’m clinging to life through you.”
“Right.” He looked at her warily. “That’s what she said.”
“So without you,” Kylee said, her voice so low he had to lean toward her, “I’m becoming nothing. Nothing but a ghost.”
“I guess that’s all the more reason to stick together.” He slipped her hand into his pocket and held it there.
Price’s first class, public speaking, was in a classroom in the back of the building. Lots of people stopped to say hi to Price as he led her through the halls. What if she were a real girlfriend? She pictured herself visible, standing next to Price, his arm around her waist. She saw herself laughing at a joke his friend told, her eyelids glittery, a dimple showing in her cheek (did she have a dimple? She wasn’t sure she’d ever smiled at her reflection). Her blond hair hung straight and slick down her back, her clothes every bit as form-fitting and stylish as the ones she’d seen on the bus.
Price evaded his friends with a quick wave and continued down the hall, forcing Kylee out of her imaginings. He tugged at her every time she stopped to gawk at the fliers hanging around the walls, announcing school events and public interest.
“What fun!” she said, seeing one about a chess team, another about a football game, and another about an upcoming dance. “A dance. Are you going? Do you go to the football games?”
“No and no. I don’t do sports games. At all. And as far as the dance, well, I’ll go if you come.”
She pictured it, her dressed up and Price dancing with an imaginary partner. “Let’s stay home and say we went.”
“Yeah.” He laughed and nudged her shoulder with his. “My thoughts too.”
She spotted another one. “There’s a French club. Are you in it?”
He shook his head. “I’ve only been here a few weeks, remember? I’m still deciding what clubs to join.”
“I can see why that would be hard.” She scanned a few other fliers as they turned a corner. She wanted to join all of them. A pang twisted in her chest at the knowledge that she never would.
Price turned left into a classroom. Several tables were set up facing a whiteboard, not so different from the middle school Kylee had gone to. Price seated himself at a table in the back and gestured for her to take the spot next to the window. He finally relinquished her hand.
She sat down and studied the other students as they came in. Some of the girls looked like the ones she’d seen on the bus, but others looked more like herself, or at least like the girls she’d known in middle school: ponytails, no make-up, t-shirt and jeans. She felt a bit relieved that she wasn’t completely outdated.
Price leaned over and whispered, “Is he cute?”
“What?” She blinked at him, caught off-guard. “Who?”
He smirked. “The guy you’re staring at.”
Kylee’s face burned. “I wasn’t.”
“Right.”
“Really!” she protested. “I was looking at the girls.”
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Price laughed out loud. “That’s a new one.”
“No, not like that. Argh.” Kylee pressed her lips together, deciding it was better not to pursue the conversation.
But Price brought up an interesting question. She turned her attention to the boys. Many wore the same hair and clothing style as Price: collared shirts, jeans, short, spiky bangs. Some seemed a bit awkward and more old-fashioned in their button-up flannel. Others seemed like they’d jumped on the bus after milking the cow, with wet grass and mud still clinging to their boots.
The students set their books down and began to congregate. One boy settled on top of his table. He wore a green jacket with leather sleeves, and he leaned over and shoved the boy next to him, laughing the whole time. Kylee felt the girls in the room gravitate toward him, pulled into orbit by an invisible line.
“Chris Hampton,” Price said. “Senior. Football player. Popular, dumb as a rock.”
Kylee smiled. “Not my type.”
“I used to be him.”
She turned to stare at him. “You?” Price hardly seemed like the idiot, self-absorbed, sporty type.
“Things change.” He squinted at her. “So you wouldn’t have liked me if we’d met last year, huh?”
Her face burned. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“It’s all right. I wouldn’t have deserved you. And I wouldn’t have cared.” He lowered his eyes, but not before Kylee saw the emotions simmering there. When he looked up, he was under control, humor sparkling in his eyes. “So what is your type?”
She shrugged. “You, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Well, I never liked a boy before you.” She turned her attention to the table in front of her and ran her fingers over the shiny surface. “But I like you. You’re perfect for me.”
Her own words mocked her. They were meant for each other. Why was she dead, then? Why did fate make it so they could never be together?
“He’s cute, though, right?” Price said, his tone light.
Kylee focused on the boy who sat on the table with a self-satisfied, arrogant expression on his face. There was something handsome about the arrangement of his features, the smooth cheekbones and clear blue eyes beneath shapely eyebrows. But his attitude reminded her of Bill, and she felt an instant dislike. “No.”
“Really?”
She looked at Price. “There’s nothing cute about him.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re lying.”
The teacher came in as the bell rang, her smile melting off into a determined, purposeful expression. “All right, guys, quiet down. In your seats. Scarlett, Anna, now.”
Two girls slinked away from Chris’s table.
“Chris,” the teacher said.
He slid down and into his chair, sending a wink and a smile toward the teacher. Kylee looked to see if it affected her, but her sternness didn’t waver.
“All right, gang, Thursday we are debating. Today I’ll give each table a topic. I’ll assign whether you’re for or against the issue. Be prepared to defend your side factually, even if it’s not what you feel.” She went down the aisle, placing a small white card on each table. She stopped at theirs. “Price, you don’t have a partner. Why don’t you hop up a row and work with Claire?”
Claire swiveled around. Her light brown hair was pulled back into a single braid, and Kylee could tell from her earthy aroma that she lived on one of the farms outside of town. Even so, she had an open, friendly appearance, and when she smiled, she was pretty.
“Oh, sure,” Price said, meeting Claire’s eyes. A blush reddened his cheeks, and he bent to grab his bag.
“You think she’s cute,” Kylee said.
Price cleared his throat and shot her a look. She knew he wouldn’t say anything, though, which meant she had the last word.
She stayed in her chair as Price moved to the table in front. “She might be cute, but just remember, I’m better at sneaking through windows.” Kylee kept her tone light, teasing, but her real feelings betrayed her. She shut up and swallowed before he heard the quiver in her voice.
Every girl here offered more than she did. They were alive.
She watched him work with Claire for the rest of the class and felt as though she were peering into the future. This was the natural progression of life. Of course he would find someone else. He needed to. He deserved to. But the whole idea hurt.
He leaned his head close to Claire’s and pointed his pencil at something she’d written. Kylee imagined him dipping his face closer and kissing her, pressing his lips against Claire’s pink mouth.
She shuddered and rubbed her arms. The sight of them chilled her. She couldn’t watch anymore. Kylee stood up and walked to the classroom door. Her hand reached out, grabbing the knob and yanking the door.
It didn’t budge. Never mind the door. She propelled herself forward, wincing at how easily she passed through.
She barely stepped into the hallway before the door opened, and Price came out. His eyes darted up and down the hall before moving to her and taking her hands in both of his. “Kylee, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the linoleum floor.
“Sure, there is.” He tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
His eyes flicked back and forth as if trying to read her mind. “Then why did you leave?”
Kylee sighed. It felt ridiculous to say it out loud, but she did anyway. “I couldn’t watch you and Claire.”
“Claire?” His features lightened. He laughed and tapped the tip of her nose. “You’re so silly.”
She didn’t see the humor. “I’m dead, Price. I have a reason to be jealous of every living girl you talk to.”
His smile faded. “Let’s not talk about this. Come on, my water break’s over. Come back inside.”
“As long as you don’t start making out with Claire.”
He grabbed her face and kissed her. “Shut up.”
The ring on Kylee’s finger grew hot, warming her hand, glowing brighter. “Kiss me again.”
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