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The trick was getting the note into the locker without anyone seeing.

There were two ways we could go about it.

First, one of us could cause a big distraction, allowing the other access to the locker while everyone in the hall was busy checking out the commotion.

Or second, we could be late for third period and slip the note in when everyone else was already in class.

Alex volunteered for the former, but I thought the latter was the smarter choice. Although Alex loved a scene, it seemed best to be discreet.

Thankfully, Alex didn't put up much of a fight, so we spent the last few minutes of lunch in the bathroom pretending to fix our hair and makeup.

Once the bell rang, Alex and I waited a minute and then walked down the hall, pausing only long enough for her to slip the note through the vent at the top of Andrew's locker. I could only hope it landed in a very obvious spot, and that he saw it either at afternoon break or at the end of the day.

I wouldn't know for sure until later that night at the Beanery Café, the spot Alex and I picked as the perfect location to break it to Andrew Finkel that his father had a message from beyond.

Dad ate his noodle casserole as though he liked it. I knew it wasn't his favorite, but it was easy to throw together and was ready for when he got home, ensuring I'd be on time for my supersecret rendezvous with Andrew Finkel.

There was a lull in our “how was your day” conversation when I stopped eating to watch him shovel the food into his mouth. He ate like he'd never eaten before and didn't expect to again.

It was pretty gross.

“Dad?”

“
Mmmhmm
,” he mumbled, not even looking up from his food. I wondered when he'd turned into a Neanderthal and how I'd never noticed before now.

“Dad!”

That got his attention. He put his fork down. “What is it?”

“Um, well, I don't mean to be… indelicate, but is that how you ate on your date?”

He looked down at his plate and then back up at me. “What do you mean?”

I cringed and looked down at my own plate, suddenly sorry I'd said anything. “Nothing.”

“What is it?”

I took a breath and looked at him. “Well… you kind of look like a pig when you eat.”

He didn't flinch when I said it, but he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple moving up and down in his neck.

“Sorry.”

He waved me off, pretending he didn't care. “Don't be. I guess it's better I know, since I have another date this weekend.”

I dropped my fork on my plate, causing a loud clatter. “
You do not!
”

Finally, Dad was smiling. “It's true.”

“Oh, Dad, that is awesome!” I jumped up out of my chair and ran around the table to give him a big hug.

“Ugh!” Dad protested when I squeezed too hard.

“Tell me
everything
.”

“Let go of me, and I'll tell you.”

Retracting my arms, I returned to my seat, awaiting the details.

Which oozed out of him like ketchup out of a glass bottle. It was totally maddening.

“Well, her name is Sharon,” he said, then daintily scooped up a few noodles with his fork and deposited them in his mouth.

“Sharon what?”

While I waited for him to continue, Dad chewed in a very slow and precise manner. Okay, maybe it would have been better if I'd heard about his date
before
I criticized his sloppy eating habits.

Once every morsel of food was cleared from his mouth, he continued.

“Sharon Adler. You might have met her at the high holidays at temple. Her mother and your grandmother used to play bridge.”

I fought a big smile, unwilling to arouse suspicion but knowing who was behind this setup. I had no idea how my dead grandmother had pulled it off, but I had no doubt she was behind it. “Oh, is her name Marjorie?”

“Yes, that's right—Marjorie Adler. Good memory!” He took another few noodles and continued. “It was strange, she phoned me out of the blue at work today.”

Out of the blue, as if.

“Really? That's weird. Did she say why?”

He shook his head. “Not really. She just said she was recently divorced and had been thinking maybe we could get together.”

I made a mental note to get the details from Bubby later.

“Anyway, you'll be very proud of me, Lilah. I asked her where she wanted to go and it turns out we both like Thai.”

“I
am
proud of you, Dad.
Hugely
proud. And what are you going to wear?”

He took a deep breath. “How about you take your old man shopping Friday night so we can find something nice? My shirt from the other night is ruined and it's been a long time since I've bought new clothes.”

“Of course I'll take you shopping! We'll get you some really hip clothes, maybe even some new threads for work.”

Dad actually looked pleased. He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, making a big show of his manners.

I applauded and then glanced at the clock: 6:17.

The note we'd left in Andrew Finkel's locker had said to meet us at the Beanery Café at seven. And I still needed some hair and makeup time.

“Sorry, but I've gotta run.” Pushing my chair back from the table, I picked up my plate and put it in the sink. “Do you mind clearing tonight?”

“It's the least I can do for my
stylist
,” he said, making me throw my arms around him again. He was a total nerd, but he was definitely a lovable nerd.

“Ugh. If you keep squeezing me like that, I'm going to throw up my dinner.”

“Sorry, I'm just feeling a bit enthusiastic about your dating.”

“Funny, I'm feeling a bit
nauseated
about my dating.”

“Oh, don't worry,” I said, finishing the last of my milk before putting the glass in the sink. “You'll do great this time. Just think. It can't be any worse than that last one.”

Let's hope.

“Well, that's true,” Dad said in a rare show of optimism.

“I'll see you later.”

“Where're you off to?”

I swallowed and quickly blurted out: “Oh just to the Beanery to meet Alex.” It wasn't even a lie. Alex would be there.

Dad had enough going on. I didn't need to tell him I was meeting a boy. And I especially didn't need to tell him I was meeting this boy to give him a message from his dead father.

Alex met me on the corner and we proceeded to the café. Understandably, I was nervous. Really nervous. I mean, it's not every day that you summon a hottie to meet you outside of school to tell him his dead father wants to talk to him. And even though it was easy to give my dad advice when it came to
my
love life, I really had no clue what I was doing.

“What if he doesn't show up?” I asked Alex.

“He'll show up.” She seemed very sure of it. Which made my stomach do a big flip.

“What if he
does
show up?” I asked.

She stopped walking. “What is wrong with you, Lilah?”

I frowned. “He's very cute.”

She shook her head. “And?”

“It's a little intimidating.”

She started walking again. “You shouldn't be intimidated. Just remember you're legit.”

“Huh?”

“You have a real reason to contact him. His father really wants to talk to him.”

“That's true,” a man, presumably Mr. Finkel, said.

Okay, so now I was embarrassed, discussing all of this with his father eavesdropping. “Can we please get some privacy?”

“Sorry.”

Alex looked around. “Oh, you mean…”

“Yeah, Andrew's dad is already here.”

“Oh.”

We didn't talk for the final two blocks. I opened the door and we walked into the noisy café. There were sounds of espresso machines and cash registers and lots of people talking.

“What are you going to have?” I asked Alex.

“Iced cappuccino, you?”

“Just an Italian soda. But I'll buy. It's my treat today.” I wouldn't normally splurge, but Dad had handed me a ten before I'd left the house.

Alex smiled and thanked me.

“Go get that table over there,” I said, pointing to a small bistro table in the back.

She shuffled off and I turned to the barista to order.

“Oh look, it's cargo pants,” I heard from behind me. I turned. Yep, because I had that kind of luck, it was Dolly Madison.

I wasn't even
wearing
my cargo pants. But either way, I ignored her and ordered drinks for me and Alex.

“Didn't you hear me?” she said.

I looked back at her. “I heard you. You didn't ask me a direct question, so I didn't think you were looking for a response.”

That shut her up.

For about four seconds.

“Don't you know this is an eighth-grader hangout?”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said, trying hard not to sound sorry at all. “I must have missed the sign on the door.”

Speaking of the door, at that second, it opened and Andrew Finkel came walking in. “Oh,” I must have said out loud.

Dolly followed my gaze and looked toward the door.

“Oh, what is this, some kind of date?” she said really loud. Loud enough for Andrew to hear.

I blushed.

“NO! It's NOT a date,” I said, looking at Andrew to make sure he knew I was really clear. His cheeks were red, too. Probably even redder than mine were.

He looked away. It was very cute.

“Six fifty,” the barista said, bringing me back to reality. I paid for the drinks and took them from the counter.

“We're over here, Andrew,” I managed to say without fainting before I turned to join Alex over at the table.

“What was that all about?” she asked as I put her iced cap in front of her.

“Dolly's being a meanie, as usual.” I sat down, with my back deliberately to her and the counter so
I could compose myself before Andrew came and sat with us. I was a bundle of nerves.

“Don't look now,” Alex said quietly. “But Dolly's making a move on your dude.”

I couldn't help myself; I whipped my head around so fast, a muscle in my neck pulled. “Ow!”

“I told you not to look!” Alex hissed.

Here's the thing—you can't tell someone not to look and then drop a big bomb on them like Dolly Madison, older girl with boobs, is macking on your guy and then expect the other person to really not look. It's basically impossible, like telling someone to keep their eyes open when they sneeze. Nope, can't be done.

But as I massaged the cramped-up muscle in my neck, I watched as Dolly stood too close to Andrew and made a point of laughing loudly at something he said. She was totally flirting with him and probably just to be mean to me.

I turned back to Alex and exhaled loudly. “Maybe I should see if I can find someone who wouldn't mind haunting her for a while.”

“Lilah,” my grandmother said with a big cluck of her tongue. “That's not very nice.”

Like Dolly was concerned about being nice to me? But no, of course I wouldn't ask some ghost to haunt her. I wasn't vengeful. That wasn't my style.

“Can you do that?” Alex asked. “Can you get someone to haunt her? Maybe undo her bra when she's in front of the whole school doing her eighth-grade speech?”

Of course, being vengeful
was
Alex's style.

I smiled. “No, I can't do that. But it's fun to think about, isn't it?”

“Hi, Lilah. Hi, Alex,” Andrew said from just behind me.

I almost fell out of my chair.

“Hi, Andrew,” Alex said, coming to my rescue. Then, she stood up and grabbed her drink. “I think I'll leave you two alone so you can chat.”

NO!
I thought.
This wasn't part of the plan!
But as I stared at my friend, hoping she would sit back down, she winked at me and left to go sit by herself at a different table. As I watched her go, I also got to see Dolly and her friends sit in a booth with a perfect view of our table. She sneered at me, so I quickly turned away.

“Have a seat,” I croaked, pointing at Alex's recently vacated chair.

“Thanks.”

I took a sip of my soda, buying a minute.

“So,” he said, stirring the straw in whatever coffee-colored concoction it was he was drinking. The ice cubes clattered around noisily.

“So,” I echoed.

He looked up at me. “Your note said this had to do with my dad?”

I looked down at my cup. “Yes. Um…”

“You know my dad died a few years ago, right?”

I nodded and then looked up at him. “That's why I needed to talk to you.”

“I don't understand. Is someone in your family sick or something?”

“No. It's not like that…” I had to stop stalling and just get on with it.

“Tell him he looks good,” Mr. Finkel said suddenly.

I took a breath. I couldn't open with a message. I had to ease Andrew in.

“Do you remember how I got hit by lightning?”

Andrew nodded. “Yeah. Are you okay? I mean, you look okay.” Then he blushed, which was very cute.

“Yeah, I'm okay. I mean, more or less.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but I put up my hand to stop him, needing to get my story out. “Well, since then, I have an ability… the ability to hear dead people.”

His eyes went really wide and then he crossed his arms at his chest. “Come on, you do not.”

“Really, I do. I can prove it.”

He lifted his eyebrow—just the right one. “So prove it, then.”

“Tell him you know he's wearing his Spider-Man boxer shorts.”

I felt my face get really hot. “I can't say that!” I blurted out.

“Can't say what?” Andrew asked.

Oh, this is not going well
, I thought.