Wraith (25 page)

Zane said nothing further, and after a few moments I
glanced his way again. It was a compulsion, and I knew it. A part of me was
half afraid that the next time I looked at him, he might not be there.

He was still there, all right. But the sight of him
made me gasp out loud.

He was slumped in his seat, looking idly out the
window. His form was largely transparent, with a few solid patches. His legs,
from mid-thigh down, were bare, and his skin was pale. He was wearing a blue
cotton hospital gown.

"Zane!" I shouted, and the car swerved
suddenly toward the shoulder. I righted the wheel and forced myself to breathe
slowly.

"What?" he asked, sitting up straight, his
eyes searching the road ahead. The gown was gone. He was wearing a tee shirt
and cargo shorts. He was fine. "Did you see something?"

I shook my head without thinking. It would have made
the perfect explanation, since I was always seeing things in the road. I didn't
want to tell him the truth. I couldn't.

"Zane," I said with a squeak, unable to
restrain myself, "do you remember what happened… I mean… how you
died?"

He did not appear thrilled at the question. I
couldn't blame him. He had remembered enough rotten stuff already. His own
death must surely be the worst.

"Don’t answer that," I said quickly.
"It doesn't matter. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," he
answered. "But for the record, no, I don't. I can't remember anything past
when my mother died."

"Maybe you shouldn't, for now," I
announced, filling my voice with a positive energy I was nowhere close to
feeling. We had reached the turnoff to my condo, and I pulled in with relief.
Freakin' shadows were everywhere this afternoon, especially near the beach
lots. "I think you should just relax for a while," I suggested.

"Yeah," he answered brightly, rubbing his
hands together. His voice was cheerful, vintage Zane, but I didn't believe he
felt any better than I did. I just figured he was a better actor. "If you
don't mind, I think I'll hang around the condo tonight while you guys are gone.
Catch some basketball on TV, make myself a sandwich. That okay?"

I offered a smile. I wasn't surprised that he didn't
want to go with me to Matt's house. It was better for everyone that he didn't.
How much I would miss him wasn't an issue.

I would miss him for the rest of my life.

I pulled into our drive and shifted the car into
park, fighting hard to contain the moisture building up, once again, behind my
eyes.

"That's cool," I agreed. "Just do me
a favor, surfer boy."

He smiled at me, dimples and all.
"Anything."

"Be here when I get back."

I knew my mother would be annoyed with me. But when
my dad, who was usually the epitome of easygoing, offered little more than a
glare as I hustled down the stairs of the condo two at a time to join them in
the idling car, I knew I was in trouble.

"I don't like to keep a colleague waiting,
Kali," he said shortly, steering out of the drive before I could get my
seat belt fastened. I'd had no time for a shower and felt totally grubby—my
hair was still clammy with sea water from the cove.

"I know, Dad," I apologized. "I'm
sorry. I just lost track of time. I'll tell them it was my fault."

We rode in uncomfortable silence a few more minutes;
but lucky for me, my father never stayed mad long. Besides which, it was
obvious there was something he was dying to say.

"Looks like we've found a house!" he
announced finally, his voice back to its usual buoyant tone. "Your mother
and I both really like it, and we think you will, too."

"That's great!" I said sincerely.
"What's it like?"

My mother showed me some pictures she had taken on
her cell phone, while my father described every aspect of the house and
neighborhood in glowing detail. It was smaller than our house in Cheyenne, as
we all knew it would be, given local housing prices. But clearly, it had
character. Funky multiple levels, wide, gently sloping eaves, and over-large
windows made it look wonderfully Hawaiian.

"The rooms are small, and it needs a lot of
updating," my mother admitted. "But the house is definitely livable.
And I know you'll like your room, Kali. It has its own door leading to a lanai
that looks out over the backyard."

I smiled broadly. Having my own personal deck would
be too cool for words. I could see myself now, nibbling on fresh mango, sipping
some tropical concoction while filling out college applications on my laptop.
The sun would be shining; there would be a nice breeze, scented with flowers.
Zane would pop over and perch on the railing, telling me how great the surfing
was—

My smile faded. I had to stop.

"It looks fabulous," I answered, handing
the phone back to my mom. "I don't mind if it's smaller. I'll be off to
college in a year anyway."

"We can drive by it tonight," my dad
explained, "but we can't get inside. We've scheduled with the agent for
all three of us to take another walk-through tomorrow afternoon."

It was clear from his tone that the outing was not
optional.

My parents finished the rest of the drive talking
mainly to each other, which was a relief. I knew that my mother suspected I was
keeping something from her, and that she expected—at the very least—a more
detailed accounting of how I had been spending my "alone" time. I
could hardly blame her. But mercifully, she did not raise the subject in the
car. Most likely because she figured she'd have better luck interrogating me on
her own.

I used the downtime, instead, to placate Tara and
Kylee.

Thanx for waiting. Walk on beach after dance was
nice. You are psychic—yes, he kissed me. On way with parents to dinner at his
house. Not sure how I feel, but like him a lot. I am SO not used to hanging out
with a jock!

I must have rewritten the text twenty times before I
sent it. It was all true, but the tone was a lie. I sounded happy and excited,
which is how I figured I should feel. I couldn't describe in a thousand texts
the hopelessly confused, murky muddle of excitement, hope, sadness, and raw
terror that was actually coursing through me.

Their responses were immediate.

KNEW IT!! Kali's 1st real kiss! Don’t worry jocks
can b sweet!

That's exciting! Meeting the parents already? Wow!
This guy must be super serious!

I frowned, realizing I hadn't explained the parent
connection very well. I hadn't explained anything very well, but that couldn't
be helped. I could satisfy their curiosity only after I had a very long return
flight over the Pacific during which to think up some version of events that
actually made sense.

I tried, for a moment, to focus only on Matt and my
feelings for him—or what I
might
be feeling if I weren't otherwise so
distracted.

My dad knows his dad. I've never met a guy like
Matt before. He seems really into me, and his friends say he's never been
serious about anybody. But he's sweet and honest and really good looking. Whole
thing seems surreal. 

I hit send without trying to overthink. The phone
buzzed again within seconds.

U are SO set, girl! Hang onto this 1! 
J

Kylee's rampant enthusiasm always made me smile. But
Tara's response was unexpected.

I know I usually advise caution in such situations…
but what the heck? Jock is a stereotype. You have good instincts. Follow them.
Luv U, Tar

I replaced the phone in my bag, feeling oddly
adrift. I would have been much more comfortable if Tara had started spouting
off statistics on athletes and domestic violence. Having the all-wise,
no-nonsense Tara trust my judgment in a matter of the heart would have pleased
me… if I trusted my own judgment. But how could I?

I had kissed Matt less than twenty-four hours ago.
Right now all I could think about was Zane.

"This is it!" my father declared in his
military voice, making me jump in my seat. The time to Honolulu had flown by—I
had not even realized we were close.

We piled out of the car and headed for the front
door of a modest one-story house with a small front yard, but what appeared to
be a monstrous deck looking over a lush hillside out back. Smoke curled around
the side of the house as the delicious scent of smoldering charcoal met our
noses.

"Good eating tonight!" My father mused,
ringing the bell. "Keith said he liked to barbecue."

The door was opened almost immediately by a big,
handsome guy with bright blue eyes and a broad smile. It took me an
unforgivably long moment to realize it was Matt.

"So, how's it going, Kali?" he asked a few
moments later, when the introductions (and apologies) were over and he had
managed to steer me aside. We were standing on his deck, ostensibly checking
the grill. The aroma was mouthwatering; the view exotic and lovely. By Cheyenne
standards, all the houses in Honolulu were small and packed way too close
together, but when one had what was practically a rain forest ascending up a
steep green slope into the clouds mere feet from one's door, such disadvantages
could be overlooked. "You look kind of freaked out," he continued
good-naturedly. "My dad doesn't scare you, does he? I mean, he scares a
lot of people, but I figured you'd already be used to that."

To my surprise, I chuckled. "No, your dad
doesn't scare me. If you can put up with mine, we're cool." Having a
father who tends to intimidate your friends was part of being a military brat.
It was nice that Matt understood.

I met his eyes, which looked friendly and open as
usual, and wished I could tell him the truth about my day. But there wasn't a
soul alive I could share that with.

"I got in the ocean a little bit this
afternoon, and it did freak me out, seeing as how I can't swim," I
explained, attempting a shred of honesty. "But I was only knee-deep in a
cove. What have you been up to?"

He shrugged. "Same old, same old. Working out.
Getting texts from Lacey yelling at me because Ty took off to that ultimate
Frisbee tournament."

I grinned. Lacey's texts on the topic would be
colorful, I was sure. "You told him about that?"

"Hell, no!" Matt protested. "Dude
doesn't need me for that. I think he was already planning to go. He just didn't
want to tell Lace about it. Last thing I need is to get in the middle of their
business."

"Do they get along okay?" I probed,
realizing it wasn't any of my business either, but curious nevertheless. I was
hoping Lacey and I could get to be buds when I got back.

"Ty and Lace?" Matt responded. "Yeah,
I guess so. They've been together forever." He paused a moment, looking
thoughtful. "Actually, if you want the truth, I think it's pretty lousy
between them. Ty's a good guy and all, but he takes her for granted."

I leaned in attentively, hoping for more. Nothing
gave a better window into what a guy thought about relationships than listening
to him talk about his friends. But apparently, all Matt had to say on the
subject, he had already said.

Our conversation turned, as it so often did, to
sports, and within a few minutes we had been summoned back inside for some
obligatory socializing. I liked Matt's parents, whose casual attitude toward
dinner and life in general was much like my own parents', and I was amused by
the self-absorption of his older sister, who barely said three words to anyone
as she rummaged about the house looking for sunglasses and car keys and some
other, unidentified item that was apparently ultracrucial to the hot date she
was already late for. It was enough to keep my mind sufficiently occupied that
I could—at least for a little while—stop worrying so much about what was
happening to Zane.

There was still, however, the matter of the Buddha
shadow.

He wasn't a real Buddha, of course, just a really
fat, middle-aged Asian looking man who happened to be sitting cross-legged on
the floor, barefoot and shirtless. I might have been able to tune him out if
the dining room were bigger, or if he were smaller, but the fact that his
corpulent form sat staring at me about eighteen inches from my assigned chair
was maddening. The man did absolutely nothing during the entire meal but
glower—and occasionally belch—in an endless, revolting loop of wasted
ectoplasm. The only emotion I could sense from him was a vague disgust, which
was doubly annoying given that his eyes were trained solidly in my direction.

Gift, indeed
, I thought irritably as the
Buddha burped so loudly it drowned out the punchline of Matt's mother's joke about
grocery shopping on the island. What possible emotional turning point could
this
be for the man? For anyone?

I would never understand the shadows.

The belching Buddha was so distracting that I could
barely engage in the conversation like an intelligent person, and after the
third time I had to ask Matt's mother to repeat something, I started worrying
that his parents would think I was either partially deaf or—worse—some kind of
flake. Luckily Matt, who was seated across from me, had no such trouble. He
seemed perfectly at ease fraternizing with my parents—seeming, in fact, to
enjoy it—and judging from the look on my father's face I had no doubt the man
had us mentally married already… pending Matt's graduation from The Academy, of
course. Only when the conversation broke into two, with the women talking
schools and the men talking real estate, did Matt turn his undivided attention
back to me.

He didn't say anything, two simultaneous
conversations being enough for the small table, even without the noxious burps
only I could hear. But I could guess what he was thinking. It was in his body
language, and the smile behind his eyes. He wanted to be closer to me. He
wanted an excuse to deliver another of his friendly hugs, or to slide an arm
around my waist. He couldn't seem to come up with one, given the company. But,
as if to prove my powers of observation correct, he slid a foot over beneath
the table and bumped it up against mine. "Doing okay?" he mouthed.