Girl Meets Ghost (19 page)

“These are work clothes!”

“Those are yoga pants.”

“Well, I can work in these. I've done lots of homework in these pants. Plus they're washable. I don't care if they get dirty.” The truth is, I'm just too lazy and tired to change. And honestly, she should talk. She's been wearing the same gymnastics uniform for weeks.

“I guess,” Daniella says, not seeming so sure.

We have to sneak out of the house so that my dad doesn't wake up, but I do stop in the garage on the way out to grab a shovel. I take some work gloves while I'm at it, figuring I might as well keep my hands protected. Who knows what kind of disgusting stuff is lurking in the dirt?
Probably worms and bugs and thorns. And maybe bones. I shiver and then push the thought out of my mind before I have a chance to really think about it.

We traipse over to the cemetery, and Daniella knows enough to stay quiet as we walk. The sun isn't quite up yet, but it's starting to peek over the tops of the trees, and a few birds are starting to chirp. It's actually kind of relaxing, and I feel my mood start to lift a little.

I mean, honestly, what's to be upset about? Everything is going well—my math grade is back on track, Brandon and I had a great date, Ellie and Kyle are happy. And my good luck continues, because once we get to the cemetery, Daniella says, “There.” She points over to some roses.

“ ‘There' what?”

“There's probably where we buried whatever it is.”

“In the rosebushes?”

“I love roses,” she says, and shrugs.

“So much that you'd dig them up?” Wow. Talk about being inconsiderate. I mean, those rosebushes are beautiful. Although, I guess she didn't do too much lasting damage, since the bushes look the same as always. But still. Probably someone had to come and replant them.

“So much that I'd bury something with my best friend there because I probably thought it was lucky or something,” she says, acting like the answer should be obvious.

“Whatever,” I say, not really sure I believe her. Also, if
anyone comes along and sees me digging up roses, it's definitely not going to go along with my story that I'm planting a bush for my dead grandmother, Cecilia C. Worthington. (Cecilia C. Worthington is so not my grandmother. She just happens to be the closest grave to the flowers that Daniella wants me to dig up.)

I stick the tip of my shovel into the ground. Luckily, the roses are forming a ring around a tall elm tree, and so I don't actually have to dig them up. That would be way too sad. And destructive. I just have to dig in the circle of dirt around the tree.

“How far down do you think you would have gone?” I ask.

“Probably not too far,” she says. “I don't really like to get dirty.” Somehow this doesn't surprise me.

I get to shoveling. But after about half an hour, I'm starting to think I've dug myself too deep. (Ha-ha, get it?) I haven't found anything, there's dirt all over the place, and I'm turning into a sweaty mess.

“You have dirt on your cheek,” Daniella points out helpfully.

“Thanks,” I say, and glare at her. I plop down on one of the big rocks that line the garden and swipe at my cheek with my hand. “Look,” I say, “I'm sorry, but I have to go to school now. And I haven't found anything. So I think we should—”

And that's when I feel it. My foot brushing against something in the dirt. Something hard. I automatically jerk my foot back, all sorts of thoughts floating through my head about what it could be.
Please don't be a skeleton, please don't be a skeleton.
 . . . I turn to look. But it's not bones. It's something shiny and metallic. The sun glints off the metal, and I reach down and pull it out of the dirt. It's a bracelet, and there's another one next to it. Two beaded silver friendship bracelets.

“Oh my God,” Daniella says as soon as she sees it. “I remember! I remember the whole thing now. I know what happened.” Her face has gone completely white, even whiter than usual. She's looks really upset, like she might start crying.

“What is it?” I ask. “Daniella, what happened?”

But before she can say anything, I hear a voice behind me.

“Kendall?” Brandon asks. “What are you doing?”

•  •  •

“What are you doing here?” I ask while quickly hopping out of the rosebushes. Or, uh, what used to be the rosebushes.

“I came to visit my mom's grave,” he says. He's looking at the shovel with a weird look on his face.

“This early?”

“Sometimes I ride my bike over here before school.”

“Cool. Me too. I mean, I walk here. To, uh, visit my
grandma's grave.” I push my sweaty hair out of my face, then reach for the hair tie I always keep on my wrist. But it's not there. Crap. I must have lost it in the dirt somewhere. I scan the ground, but I don't see it. Not that it matters. There's no way I'd pick up some muddy hair tie and put it in my hair in front of Brandon.

“Okay.” Brandon hesitates, and I think he's going to ask me why he's never seen me here in the morning before. But instead he says, “What are you doing, digging all around?”

“I'm planting a bush,” I say. “A bush for my grandma.”

“But there are already rosebushes here,” he says. “And isn't your grandma's grave over there?” He looks concerned, like he knows what I'm doing is wrong and now he's going to have to make the hard choice about whether or not he wants to call law enforcement on me. But that's crazy. Brandon would never call the police on me. Brandon is in serious like with me. Isn't he?

“I know,” I say. “But, ah, I . . . I was thinking I would plant something else.”

“What were you going to plant?”

Good question. “Friendship bracelets!” I say brightly, holding them up.

“You were going to plant friendship bracelets in the cemetery?” He's looking at me like I'm crazy.

“Well,” I say, “they're actually, you know, good luck. If you plant them. It's an ancient Chinese ritual.”

Brandon moves forward and takes one of the friendship bracelets out of my hand and looks at it. “ ‘Besties Forever,' ” he reads. “These are good luck?”

Daniella guffaws.

“Yes,” I say, “but, ah, I forgot the paper at home, the one that has the special, uh, Chinese prayer you're supposed to chant before you plant them. So I can't plant these right now.”

“Okay.” He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but then shuts it. He's silent for a second, and then he says, “So, ah, I guess I'll see you at school.”

“Yup,” I say, swiping at my face again for any stray dirt. “See you at school!”

I stand there for a while, waving at him with a big smile on my face so he doesn't realize anything's wrong. What the heck is Brandon doing, showing up everywhere I go? It's really too bad, because if he didn't keep catching me doing ridiculous things, I would think us running into each other meant something—that, like, we were destined to be or something. But obviously we're not, since all the normalness of yesterday's fab date just got erased. Sigh. If I hadn't ruined my chances with Brandon Dunham before, then that definitely just did it.

•  •  •

By the time school is over for the day, I'm exhausted. Who knew that all that digging would take so much out of me? It's
like that time when Ellie and I thought we'd try out for the track team, but then we went running for a couple of days to get ready and decided it just wasn't worth it.

Plus Brandon had a dentist appointment during math, and a baseball meeting during lunch, so not only did I not get to see him, I got stuck sitting with Kyle and Ellie all by myself. Ugh. Kyle kept feeding Ellie licorice, which was very annoying. I mean, I'm happy for them and everything, but shouldn't they know better than to do that kind of thing when other people are around?

Anyway, it's after school, and now I'm at the high school again, waiting outside for Jen to come out of her gymnastics practice. I have the bracelets I dug up this morning in my pocket. It's a little cold out here, so cold that I have to keep hopping from foot to foot to stay warm. But I'm afraid to go inside, because if Jen sees me at her practice before I have a chance to talk to her, who knows what she'll do? Get me kicked out at the least, call the police on me at the worst.

So I'm kind of, ah, hiding behind a bush when she finally comes walking out. Thank God she's alone. She's putting on a pair of really cute puffy purple gloves, and I fall into step behind her, la, la, la.

“Jen?” I try.

She turns around, a smile on her face, but when she sees me, her face darkens and she quickens her step. “You!”
she says. “Go away!” Wow. She sounds kind of like Mrs. Dunham. Why does everyone think it's okay to call me “you”? That's so rude.

Daniella pops up. “Where the heck have you been?” I say to her.

Jen thinks I'm talking to her, though, and so she turns around and says, “That's none of your business. You need to take a hint and leave me alone.” She starts rummaging around in her bag, and for a second I think maybe she's going to pull out some kind of pepper spray or something. But she's just looking for her car keys.

“Wait!” I say. “Daniella told me about your friendship bracelets!” She keeps walking, and I'm not sure if it's my imagination, but I think I see her slow down just a little bit. “The ones you buried at the cemetery.”

She whirls around then, her hair whipping against her face. “How did you know about that?”

I think about telling her again that Daniella's family was friends with mine, but at this point it doesn't matter. She isn't going to believe it, and besides, she doesn't have to.

I pull the bracelets out of my pocket and hold them up. I spent some time cleaning them off with my jewelry cleaner, and so they sparkle in the afternoon sun. “She told me about them,” I say, “and I thought you might want them.”

She reaches out to take them, and her eyes fill with tears. “You . . . How did you . . .”

“Tell her that I don't blame her,” Daniella says. “Tell her I don't blame her for the fight we got into.”

“Daniella wants you to know that she doesn't blame you,” I say. “She says that she's not mad.” I have no idea what it means, since isn't
Daniella
the one who took
Jen's
boyfriend? But whatever, I'm just the messenger.

Jen starts crying then. Her whole face crumples up, and tears run down her face. We're in the middle of the parking lot, and a couple of people turn to look as they walk by, but Jen doesn't seem to notice.

“I didn't mean it,” she says. “I wanted to give her a ride, I did. I was just so mad at her for what she did with Travis. And so when she called to see what time I was picking her up, I told her she'd have to find her own way to the meet. And so she took the bus.” She swipes at her tears with the back of her hand, and that's when I get it. Jen and Daniella got into a fight because Daniella was hanging out with the boy that Jen liked. And so Jen told Daniella to find herself another ride to the meet. And that's why Daniella was on the bus that ended up crashing.

“Tell her it's not her fault,” Daniella says. “Please, please, please tell her it's not her fault.” And now she's crying too.

“It's not your fault,” I tell Jen. “Daniella doesn't blame you. She doesn't.”

“How do you know?” she asks. Her eyes are shiny with tears, and her tone is pleading. I hesitate.

“The same way I knew about the friendship bracelets,” I say finally. “And let's just leave it at that.”

She looks at me, then nods, and before I know what she's doing, she's grabbed me into a hug. She holds on to me for a long moment, still crying. And I feel like I want to cry too. I'm thinking about Ellie and best friends and how they can get you through your dark times, how they're always there for you. How true friends will love you no matter what. I think again about telling Ellie about the ghosts, and realize that maybe I should. Ellie will understand. Ellie's amazing. I always want to make sure that in my friendships I have no regrets. This whole thing with Daniella and Jen has made me realize that.

“Thanks,” Jen says, pulling back. Her eyes are still wet, but she has a smile on her face now.

“You're welcome,” I say.

And when I turn around, Daniella is gone.

Well. I kind of
miss her. Daniella, I mean. She's only been gone for half an hour or so, but just knowing that she's not coming back is kind of sad. Especially since I didn't get to say good-bye. That's just how it works out sometimes. Sigh.

After I finish up with Jen (who feels a lot better after we talk for a little longer—she even put one of the friendship bracelets on her wrist, which really seemed to comfort her—yay me for doing something good!), I have to run back to my school so that I can take the late bus home. When I get to my house, my dad's not back from work yet, so I make myself a snack of apples and peanut butter and settle in the living room to do my homework and try to keep my mind off Brandon.

The house is quiet without my dad here, and I'm a little afraid Mrs. Dunham is going to show up. So I put some music on my iPod and set it on its dock to break up the silence.

I'm halfway through my history reading when my phone rings. Ellie.

“Kendall!” she yells. “Where have you been? I've been trying to call you for an hour!”

“I'm right here,” I say innocently. “What's up?”

“Why didn't you tell me that Brandon found you at the cemetery this morning, digging up flower beds?”

“I wasn't digging up flower beds!” I say. Jeez. Talk about being dramatic and starting rumors. I mean, I told him I was burying friendship bracelets.