Coma Paranormal Romance by Lilly Mance--9 chapters

Coma Paranormal Romance by

LillY ManCE

Copyright © 2013 by Lilly Mance ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Edited by: Heather C. Haines | texttweaking@outlook.com Book Layout and Cover Design: Nat Mara | Marraii.com Cover Images: Valua Vitaly & Subbotina | Dreamstime.com The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this fiction: Coke, Vogue, Freddy Krueger, X-Men, and Wolverine Printed and bound in the USA ISBN: 148413205X ISBN-13: 978-1484132050

Summary: Zack is a ghost. He has no recollection of who he is, or why he lacks a body. He's not dead, of that he's sure. As soon as he gets to a certain distance from Lyra, he gets snapped back near her.

Lyra just graduated, but is taking a break from further education. She's been able to see ghosts all her life, but they couldn't see her.

Till now.

Her world changes when she discovers that Zack is just as material as she is.

But, Zack is in a coma, in the far future, and his life could be ended at any moment.

Together, they'll have to discover if love that transcends space and time is enough, or if there’s something more to it than meets the eye.

A pen is neither good nor bad.

It’s what you do with it that makes it a weapon of war or a tool of peace.

Likewise, love is neither good nor bad.

It’s what you do with it that makes it the ultimate punishment or the greatest reward.

Prologue August, 2114 A.D.

y name is Lyra. I was born in 1995, but now I'm a temporal guard in 2114. There's a temporal war going on, and I'm about to make the biggest sacrifice a person can make to end it.

The love of my life, my one true soul mate, is about to be erased from my memory, and I from his. He will never know that I have existed, and I will be returned to my time with no recollection of any of this.

I've been taught that history is something to be learned from; it’s not something to change. We've gotten ourselves into this mess by repeatedly altering history through time travel. But I've also been taught that one learns from mistakes, and I discovered the biggest mistake mankind has

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ever made. What I learned is that in order to pay a huge debt, you have to make a huge sacrifice. Unfortunately, no sacrifice is enough unless it's personal.

It all started with a coma‌

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Chapter #1 2013 A.D.

eeing all those graduation caps in the air meant only one thing, school was finally over, and the longest summer was ahead of us. Helen and Maya, two of my best friends, made it clear they were going to make the most of it since I wasn’t starting college with them in the fall. Silly, but they took my decision to take a break from education a lot harder than my parents.

Mom and Dad were supportive. They disagreed— definitely weren’t happy about it—but they understood my reasoning. As long as I made my decisions based on mature arguments and not some whim, they saw it as a valuable life lesson. They viewed life as some big playground where we learned from our mistakes. That gave me a lot of

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freedom to work with, and I appreciated it. On the other hand, Helen and Maya thought I was making the biggest mistake of my life, and even tried to influence my mom into encouraging me apply to college—force me, to be exact. The college they would be attending, that is—others weren’t an option.

When I thought about it, I looked forward to having some time on my own for a change. I needed time to sort things out, to think things through without my phone ringing every half hour. The past few months have been crazy; I’ve hardly had any time to stop with all the studying and partying going on. I swear there were times the three of us resembled hyenas on meth—running all over the place, trying to be at as many parties as we could, all while keeping our grades up and laughing at attempts to cover that black circles under our eyes until our bellies hurt.

Going to college would be only a continuation of it, and I couldn’t afford that. I had to stop. It was time to find that inner GPS. “Lyra, come on! We don’t have all day.” Helen snapped me back to reality. “Get that yearbook signed, and let’s get out of here!”

I pressed my yearbook tighter against my chest, as if it was in danger of being stolen. Everyone I cared about had already signed it; the rest were not important anyway. I glanced around to see if I had skipped anyone, but ended up being disgusted by a long line of people waiting to have their yearbooks signed by the very person who abused them throughout high school: Bea Henderson, better known as 4

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Queen Bee. Although the valedictorian speech was usually given to the best student in school, this year it was given to Queen Bee for her overzealous dedication to extracurricular activities. In other words, she was the principal’s daughter.

Thank God for that, because instead of boring, presumptuous words, it turned out being stand-up comedy.

Poor Bea thought we were laughing at her witty remarks, but the reality was entirely different. Except for her parents, everyone else laughed at her. Someone must have told her the truth, because her long face and occasional sour grin showed how much fun she was having signing yearbooks.

Mom and Dad motioned for me to come over. Dad had to leave for a doctor’s conference, so he wanted to hug me once more before he left.

Letting me out of his embrace, he said, “I’m proud of you, honey,” and kissed my forehead. “Mom's driving me to the airport. I’ll be back in two weeks, and then we’ll go jobhunting together.” I nodded and squeezed him one more time.

“The last one home makes lunch,” Mom winked at me, and grabbed Dad's hand.

“Deal,” I replied a tad too late. They were slowly disappearing from my view, holding hands like a couple of teenagers. Sweet. Four arms grabbed me from behind and I instantly knew who it was.

“We've got outfits to discuss.” Maya poked my belly. “No time to mope around.”

“I'm not moping,” I protested. “Why would I mope?”

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“If you say so—” Maya grinned. “Anyway, Helen has already agreed and I need you on board as well.”

“On board for what?” Nothing kinky, I hoped.

“Wardrobe conference call!” Maya squealed with excitement, tapping her feet in place.

“Oh, no. Not that again,” I slammed my forehead. This “we’re inseparable” thing the two of them had going wasn’t really my cup of tea, but I always went along because it wasn’t their fault I was damaged goods, and couldn’t feel the same way. We hung out together all the time, I loved them as friends, we had tons of fun, but I like to pee alone, thank you. “Do we have to?” I whined.

“Yes, we have to!” Maya said with determination in her voice, and Helen giggled behind her, knowing the agony that it caused me.

“Okay,” I sighed. In my opinion, Einstein had it all figured out—a bunch of identical suits and he never had to waste energy on what to wear.

Y The post-grad party was scheduled down at the beach, appropriately named “From Dusk till Dawn”. Surely the majority of the partygoers would look like vampires at daybreak, justifying the name. Thank God it wasn’t a theme party where I’d actually have to wear a costume—a single detail a certain someone neglected to mention to the geek team. I didn’t know how someone could be so cruel as to get a kick out of fooling a bunch of gullible wallflowers into coming costumed. I could already see them with fake 6

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vampire teeth, white stage makeup, and hopeful looks on their faces, only to meet ridicule. Arg! I wish one of them would discover some balls and bring down that mean Queen Bee and her minions. I really hoped karma existed and would come back to bite her.

Y One excruciatingly long wardrobe conference call later and Helen and Maya were finally at my door, so I called out: “MOM! We’re leaving!”

“Oh, my!” Coming down the stairs, Mom clasped her hands with visible adoration on her face. “The three of you look fabulous! Just like in that hair commercial.” She wasn’t far off. Each of us had thick, waist-long hair. Maya’s was curly honey blonde, cascading graciously down her back. Helen’s was wavy and light platinum blond. Mine was straight as an arrow, dark brown, and wouldn’t curl no matter what I tried. And try, I did.

“Totally commercial-worthy,” I replied with a smile, and pulled my hair back, raising my chin.

“Let me take a picture. Who knows when I’ll get a chance like this again…” Mom said, going through a drawer in search of her camera.

Maya shot me one of those looks that said, “You can still change your mind.” I frowned, shooting back a not-thatagain look. Being friends with someone for so long did have its perks—nonverbal communication was definitely one of them.

After posing for Mom, we were out the door. Maya’s 7

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barely-drivable car gave its several huffs and puffs before it took us toward our destination. While Helen and Maya were busy plotting their final moves to capture Brad and Darren’s attention—and who could blame them, both guys were the epitome of hotness and the competition was tough—I enjoyed my solitude in the back seat. Maya had been into Brad for ages, and Helen went against her better judgment in falling for Darren. Every time they got overly excited about guys, it gave me an opportunity to zone out.

There it was again! That strange feeling—as if I were slightly out of pace with the world; going too fast or too slow, or maybe even having an out-of-body experience. For as long as I could remember I had felt like that. As soon as I was immersed in my own thoughts, it would creep up on me. No matter how much I examined the feeling, I never got any closer to understanding it. It didn’t happen when I studied for tests, so concentration must have played a role.

It happened when I didn’t pay much attention, when I was daydreaming slightly. I bet that was a reason why I got to see those pesky ghosts from time to time—I was stuck somewhere in between worlds. I’m badly tuned. That thought made me snort and exit my dream state. I noticed Maya and Helen watching me carefully. Apparently we had arrived. When?

“Seriously Lyra, where do you go off to?” Maya pursed her lips, annoyed, and rested her chin on the back of her seat.

“What? I don’t get to drool over guys but you do?”

Offense is the best defense, or so I had heard. What else 8

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was I supposed to say? My body is here, but I don’t feel like I should be? Oh, that would surely get me a one-way ticket to the asylum.

“Now you’re talking!” Helen’s high-pitched voice went hand-in-hand with her excitement. “Who’s the protagonist?”

Damn! That backfired. Um, let's go with, “Damien,” I sputtered to put a lid on the subject. Pfft, like I cared at all about my ex-boyfriend. Jerk.

“Still?” Maya made a face. “I’m glad it’s not Brad, though.” Friends or not, she didn’t like the idea of me adding to the competition. The entire school was fangirling over him, and that irked her.

“Of course it’s not Brad! But the way you two talked about him and Darren, it, um, got me thinking about goodold days with Damien,” I forced a smile; a little white lie never hurt anybody.

“Okay, let’s get this party started!” Getting out of the car, Helen butchered Pink's song, and the two of us joined as back-up vocals. The last rays of sunlight were touching the ocean, making it glittery and creating a disco-ball effect.

The sound of music and murmuring flowed in waves over the sand dunes all the way to the parking lot, getting louder and more constant as we neared.

The beach was lit with colorful light strands hung in a square, forming a dance floor. Spread out around it were familiar groups—people who usually hung together, kept to themselves, and rarely mingled. Their business was talking about other people's lives since they had none of their own.

Slightly farther away, closer to the water, we saw our group 9

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of friends sitting on one of the big blankets. One look at those blankets and it was obvious each presented an interest group of sorts. Just like lunch tables—God forbid you should sit at the wrong one, or too close to someone who outranked your social status. Understandably, ours was very close to Brad and Darren's, giving Maya and Helen a golden opportunity to swoon.

Resting my back against Helen's, I watched an endless mass of bodies moving to the music. The lights reflecting on their bodies made it all seem magical. A group of girls brought whistles, and blew them to the beat of music, making the crowd go wild with excitement. My glance moved further toward the kegs where an interesting pair of eyes grabbed my attention. Now that one I could drool over! I thought seeing a tall, dark-haired guy, possibly in his early twenties, and clearly not from our high school. Suddenly, I felt the need to fan myself. He was absolutely stunning.

“I’ll get drinks,” I said to my girlfriends, not revealing my ulterior motive—getting closer to that gorgeous set of eyes. Teen drinking wasn’t our game, but it would be a perfect excuse to talk to him, to ask him where nonalcoholic beverages were. Perfectly innocent, I snickered.

My heartbeat picked up a notch as I walked over.

Finally, someone new and possibly interesting. I wondered who he came with. Please God, not the Queen Bee. I crossed my fingers, inhaled deeply, and lifted my gaze. My heart was racing like mad. Looking at him sideways, he was absolutely gorgeous. Dressed in dark clothes, hands nonchalantly tucked in his pockets, he stared off into the 10

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distance. A night breeze blew a few strands of hair into his eyes, and he blew them away like he couldn't be bothered.

My mind kept repeating what I was going to ask him as I was nearing him. Now that I was close to the kegs, I had a clear view of his entire persona. He wasn’t looking my way, so I scanned him from top to bottom as if he were my own personal eye candy. Unfortunately, my heart sank as I reached his feet. A major downer. Damn kegs! I cussed to my chin. My world came crashing down as I watched his feet hover slightly above the ground. Pesky apparition! I growled internally. He’s a freaking ghost!

Ghosts, or apparitions as I called them, never stood out much from the crowd. It was more the weightlessness of their movements and a hint of translucency that gave them away during the day, but when it was dark, it was really hard to distinguish them from normal people if their feet were not visible. When I was little, it took me a long time to realize that I could see something others couldn’t. It would have been more apparent if they were stereotypical ghosts, but they looked so much like the living, making it that much complicated. Over time I started calling them apparitions because I really didn’t know what they were, and judging from other people’s stories, they were nothing like ghosts, so I had to make a distinction. They never paid any attention to me, leaving me with the impression that they couldn’t see me. That only added to my conclusion that I was perpetually stuck between the worlds. But, they always seemed somehow busy, driven even, making me not want to have anything to do with them anyway.

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“Such a shame,” I said to myself, and went past the kegs to find the nonalcoholic beverages. I couldn't get back empty-handed. Well, at least I could freely stare at the guy.

He was a feast for the eyes, so not all was lost. Or so I thought.

Watching the apparition guy as I went by, sure that he couldn’t see me, the strangest thing happened—my gaze was met! A combination of fear and thrill zoomed through me. As if stuck down by a lightning bolt, my feet stopped moving and left me standing right in front of him. Someone must have sucked out all the air, because I couldn’t breathe. With mouth agape, I stared at him helplessly.

Shamelessly, he stared back, straight into my eyes, without blinking. I’ve never seen more beautiful eyes on a man or a ghost, but I’ve never felt more scared in my entire life either. I sucked in a sharp breath, swallowed a knot, and felt my lower lip quivering. He didn’t move; not even a twitch. Breathing evenly, his eyes took their time examining every inch of my face with cat-like interest.

Immobile, I screamed internally at my feet to move, but they refused to cooperate. His head tilted to the side, his gaze holding. Taking cautious, shallow breaths, I felt life slowly return to my legs, so I urged them to move forward.

After two steps I sped up, still unable to break eye contact, and then quickly got lost in the crowd. Cold sweat tingled on the back of my neck, accompanied by an intense heartbeat. The drinks stand was right in front of me, so I hurried over as if it were my refuge. Unaware of my trembling hands, I tried pouring drinks, but that ended up 12

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being a disaster. I spilled half of it all over the stand.

Luckily no one saw my mishap, but I had to steady myself before trying to carry three paper cups through the evermoving crowd. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths, telling myself everything was okay. He’s not a danger to you, I encouraged myself. So what if he saw you? I felt calmer, and opened my eyes. Scanning the crowd, I saw no sign of him, so I took the drinks and went to find Helen and Maya.

“What took you so long?” Helen snapped, tapping her foot impatiently. Was I really gone that long? It didn't seem so.

“Sorry. I got held up at the drinks stand,” I sort-of lied, handing her a drink.

“Maya finally hooked up with Brad! You should have seen it. He’s so sweet with her,” Helen said grinning, her voice elated.

“I can’t believe it! She was so worried he was into someone else,” I said, but I had never really doubted she would win. Once she gathered the courage to talk to him, that is. Maya was beautiful, and eventually got who—or what—she wanted, but her shyness stood in the way more than once in a while. I just hoped Brad was worthy of her attention. Hot guys rarely were. Jocks especially.

“Apparently he was into her all this time,” Helen continued, “She whispered it to me just before she left with him.”

“That’s so cool! I guess she’ll be riding home with him?”

“Yeah. She slipped me her car keys,” Helen waved huff13

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n-puff’s keys, winking and smiling. Then her expression shifted into a worried one. “Are you gonna be okay with Damien being here?”

Little did she know, he wasn't my biggest issue anymore. “Sure. I'm used to it by now. What about you and Darren?”

Helen rolled her eyes. “No luck. He’s all over Queen Bee,” she motioned behind her with disgust. My gaze followed, but instead of spotting the lucky pair, my eyes met an intense stare. The apparition guy was back and he was watching me. His green eyes were dissecting me piece by piece. Chills prickled up my neck. I must have turned deathly white, because Helen took my hand and said, “You okay? It’s not that big of a deal. Really. Whoever messes with Bee isn’t worth my time anyway.”

“You’re right,” I squeezed through my teeth. “Let’s mingle.” I pulled her far away from the apparition, and deep into the crowd. Meeting my gaze was one thing, but following me around was another. Creepy.

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Chapter #2 he next morning came far too soon. The sunlight peeking in between the drapes hurt my eyes, and I pulled the comforter over my head. It would have been great to sleep in, but the sound of my mom vacuuming meant there wasn’t much left of morning. Instead it was likely closer to noon. Still half asleep, I dragged myself downstairs to have some breakfast.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Mom said, turning off the vacuum cleaner. “Did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah, it was pretty good. Did I wake you when I came home?”

“No, honey. You know I sleep with one eye open until you’re back,” Mom smiled and signaled me to follow her into the kitchen. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“I don’t know. I’m not that hungry. Maybe some cereal…”

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“So what are you girls up to today?” Mom said, placing a bowl of cereal in front of me.

“We’ll take it easy, hang out over ice cream down by the beach, and maybe catch some sun. Helen and Maya are coming over around two.” Slowly I poured some milk over the cereal, mesmerized as the flakes swirl in the bowl. God, I was so tired.

After breakfast, I took a long shower and applied some light makeup. The running water must have possessed some powerful energy, because it upgraded my ass from slow motion to turbo speed. At the sound of Maya’s huff-npuff car in our driveway, I raced out the door, waving Mom goodbye. She said something, but I was already too far away to hear what.

On our way to the beach, Maya told us all about her dream date with Brad. It turned out they had a lot of things in common, and being secretly into each other since junior high was one of them. Matchmaking aspirations were apparently another one.

“A blind date? Really, Maya?” Helen was not at all thrilled with the idea. “And what makes you think I’ll go along?”

“Brad suggested it and I thought it would be cool,” Maya grinned, not at all bothered by Helen’s pouting.

“Oh, and that makes it okay, then? Why not Lyra? Why me?” Helen protested, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

“Hold it right there!” I interjected. “You’re not dragging me into this one.”

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“Because he’s not her type,” Maya explained so matterof-factly.

“And he is mine? You would know this…How?” Helen snorted.

“I met the guy last night.” Maya parallel parked huff-npuff in the shade. The old tin can wasn’t equipped with air conditioning, so I was glad she nailed that spot. At least we wouldn’t be cooked on our way home.

Helen scowled and said, “If this goes badly, you’ll owe me big time! No, scratch that. You already owe me!”

“And if it goes well?” Maya snickered and waved her hand like she always did when Helen was overreacting.

“Come on, Helen. I should be upset, not you. I’m the fifth wheel here.” I rolled my eyes. “At least you two will have someone to talk to…”

“Aw, you know we won’t neglect you.” Helen aimed her pout at me.

“But that’s what I’m afraid of! Please, present me as your mute cousin. That way I can sit and keep to myself.” I hoped they really would, but they both laughed, and dismissed my plea.

Approaching our rendezvous point, we saw a myriad of familiar faces from last night. It seemed everyone was there sipping ice teas, soaking up the sun, hiding tired eyes with dark shades, and nodding our way in recognition. It was our high school’s favorite beach hangout. Brad got up from the table wearing a silly grin and motioned for us to come and sit. Seeing his friend, Helen’s body language revealed that she liked what she saw. Mine on the other hand showed utter terror. I stopped dead in my tracks.

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Last night’s apparition guy was standing there, only two feet from our table, staring at me. Uneasiness shot straight to the pit of my stomach. I forced myself to walk calmly over to our table, sit, and look anywhere but at him.

I decided to act as if everything was perfectly fine, which turned out to be rather difficult. I felt the constant need to squirm. Hell! I wanted to run away that instant. Unable to act normally, I decided I had to find an excuse to leave, soon. My heart pounded so hard, my ears buzzed, and I felt quite lightheaded. What does he want from me?

“Earth to Lyra.” Brad’s voice made me flinch. I glanced up to see an annoyed waitress standing there, waiting to take my order.

“Oh, sorry. Coke, please.” I felt the blood rush to my face and my company laughed.

“You do that a lot lately,” Maya said. I sheepishly smiled back. Keeping pace with reality was hard enough without a distracting ghost-slash-apparition on my back.

I snuck a glance at him, and tightness gripped my chest.

His stare was constant and disturbing. The guy had no shame!

The entire time we were there, the apparition guy didn’t take his eyes off of me. Nor did he move. I tried to participate in the conversation at my table, but failed miserably. I was glad more than ever that they were all so into each other that no one paid attention to my rambling.

But each time I tried to excuse myself, Maya or Helen would see through my excuse and refuse to let me go—a downside of knowing each other so well.

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Each minute that passed felt like an hour. I dared to look at him only a couple times, just to make sure he was really observing me. No doubt he was. There was something in his appearance that was unnerving yet enchanting at the same time. I felt drawn to him but scared of him at the same time. His face was beautiful and serene, completely in harmony with his short, black hair— which he had styled in an odd-looking (though somehow flattering) way: several long strands on his forehead rather than straight-across bangs. His full lips would make Angelina Jolie eat herself.

And that set of striking green eyes below thick, black lashes made me swallow too many times to count. He wore a darkblue V-neck tee embroidered with the letters “TGA”. The short sleeves revealed muscular arms, and hinted that a well-defined chest was hidden underneath. Long, black cargo pants were tucked in a strange-looking boots that suited his overall peculiar appearance. I had to admit, if I were forced to choose a personal paranormal stalker, this would have been the one. God, why can't he be real? While he couldn’t have been much older than 18, there was nothing boyish about him. Yes, he was drool-worthy and hot as hell. But damn, he was still freaking me out.

Maya, Brad, Helen, and what’s-his-name pushed their chairs back almost in unison, and I took it as a sign we were finally leaving. Maya leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I can see you want to go home, but Helen and Shawn might hit it off, so we’re going for a walk. Wanna take my car?”

“Sure. Brad will give you a lift?” She nodded and added, 19

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“Come and pick me up tomorrow. We’ll have a day to ourselves.”

I took her keys, and threw a quick glance at my stalker as I walked away. He was still there, positioned as firmly as a rock. Thankfully, he was not following me to huff-n-puff.

Physically, that is. His eyes were glued to mine. He watched my every move. I quickened my pace to get as far away from him as I could. My hands shook slightly as I fumbled to unlock the car, but I managed to get in and lock the door behind me. One last glance at the apparition showed he was still in the same spot, and I sighed with relief. I’ll have to avoid this place for a while, though.

Maybe he’s bound to the beach. Seeing him—and being seen by him—two days in a row wasn’t a good thing. Maybe this is all a coincidence and I blew it out of proportions—I told myself, while quite aware I was simply deluding myself.

Y Over the next couple of days, I made a whole lot of halfcredible excuses to avoid the beach. Yesterday I even faked being sick and stayed in. I wasn’t sure how long I could keep it up without raising any alarms, but for today I was off the hook. Having new relationships prompted Helen and Maya to go shopping for the new clothes, so they were spending the day at the mall. I said I would meet them there after lunch, even though I had no shopping aspirations of my own. At least it was far away from the beach.

“Honey, we have to go.” The urgency in Mom’s voice made it crack. “I’m gonna be late.”

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“Coming!” After one quick glance at the mirror and two deep breaths, I was ready to face the world.

“You look nice, hon.” Mom squeezed me while gently urging me out the door.

“So do you.” I smiled. Her white nurse’s scrubs made her big brown eyes stand out, emphasizing the alwayspresent kindness in her gaze. They say doctors never marry nurses, but whoever said that obviously never met my mom. She could melt an icicle with her soft gaze. She melted Dad, all right. I giggled internally.

Mom dropped me off and hit the gas to get to work, saying goodbye with two swift honks. Pushing the glass door with one hand, I entered the mall and dialed Maya’s cell with the other. The phone rang a couple of times, and went to voicemail. I decided to go looking for them. They couldn't be too hard to find.

The ground floor wasn’t in their range of interest, so I skipped it. The old escalator moved slowly, taking forever to reach the first floor. I browsed around the shops in search of my friends, but it was more than clear they were not there, so I started toward the next floor.

Riding on the escalator, I tapped my fingers on the phone, and watched the second floor come into view. A familiar set of strange boots standing—hovering to be precise—on the landing platform caught my attention. My heart skipped a couple of beats. Dread washed over me as it dawned on me that it was my apparition stalker. Here, not miles away on the beach. There was no escape; I was being brought straight to him. Served on a plate! Hyperventilating, 21

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I locked my gaze on the toes of my sneakers, watching with horror as the escalator stairs come to an end. Against my will, the stairs pushed my feet onto the solid floor, nudging me closer to him. Now, standing only arm's-length from him, fear deafened me, but I dared to look up, and our eyes met. A bolt of electricity shot through me. His face was expressionless, which only pushed my panic button even more. I took pride in reading facial expressions well, but now that I desperately needed to—zilch! His lips slightly parted, but before I could find out if he would speak, something bumped my back and I was abruptly brought back to the world of the living.

“Miss, it’s the end of the road,” said a man behind me in a harsh tone.

I turned around, and smiled apologetically. “Sorry.” I stepped aside, throwing a quick glance at my apparition stalker. He wasn’t there anymore. I looked around, but he had definitely vanished. With a sigh of relief, I saw Helen waving at me a few stores down, so I picked up what was left of me and rushed to meet her. My heart was still racing as if I had run a desert marathon. My mouth dry just as well.

“Look!” Maya couldn’t wait to show off what they bought. She pulled out a glittery top and pressed it against her torso. “This is for Saturday. Helen got one, too!”

“Wow, it’s beautiful.” I’m not a fan of glitter, but Maya had a special bond with all things sparkly. That’s why I wasn’t surprised when she pulled out a matching pair of earrings and a set of equally sparkling bracelets, then 22

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pranced around like a movie star. I must admit, all that shine somehow suited her personality, and didn’t look off at all. It looked quite natural. If I put on just one of those things, I’d look like a cow in a saddle. “Did I miss a memo?

What’s on Saturday?”

“Brad called Maya,” Helen said, excitement radiating from her eyes. “He invited the three of us to a posh party!”

“Yeah, his parents are out of town for the weekend,” Maya added, tucking the top back in a bag.

“Will he get in trouble for throwing it?” Seizing the chance when they weren’t looking at me, I checked out the perimeter. No stalker. I breathed a little easier.

“They gave him their blessings! They even encouraged him to do it.” Maya seemed proud of the trust his parents had in him. “He said something about it being their family’s tradition. His older brother will come, and so will his frat boys,” Maya and Helen exchanged loaded looks that I ignored.

“Everyone that matters from our college is gonna be there,” Helen added. “How we present ourselves this weekend is how they’re gonna see us as freshmen.”

“We’re setting our social status,” Maya hid her anxiety with a nervous grin.

“Darn it. That sounds huge. I guess I’ll have to buy something new to fit in, won’t I?” My closet was full of casual wear, I owned nothing remotely posh. And I knew well how their minds worked—the fact that I wasn’t going to college wouldn’t be accepted as an excuse.

“Yes! And don’t think you’ll get away with being 23

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inconspicuous. We won’t let you this time,” Helen threatened me with her finger.

“Okay, but no skirts!” I pursed my lips.

“Fine,” Helen grimaced as if I ruined her girly dream.

“But you have no veto on tight!”

Now it was my turn to frown. Tight, short, revealing— none of it fit my profile. Baggy, sporty, unisex—that was my comfort zone.

Raiding store after store for over an hour drained me. I felt like a zombie from all the walking and trying on different outfits which were handpicked by the fashionmilitary duo formerly known as my friends. It didn’t help that I kept looking behind us for any sign of a to-die-forgorgeous paranormal stalker. The whole affair resulted in serious neck pain, and zero purchases. I agreed to try one last glove-tight ensemble in exchange for a neck massage later in the day.

The stale air coming from the changing booths upset my stomach as I got closer. Putting the clothes on a chair, I turned to close the door. But instead I came face-to-face with my stalker, up close and personal. Every hair on my body spiked up and a guttural scream fought to get out, but I pushed it down. To hell with it! I wasn’t about to be bullied by a freaking ghost!

“Who are you?” He said in a velvety voice before I managed to compose myself, let alone say anything.

A slightly hysterical giggle escaped my lips. “Who am I? Really? You stalk me for days, and now you have the nerve to ask me who I am? Who are you?” I hissed. In an instant, 24

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my fear turned into anger. He remained perfectly calm as if I didn’t throw a temper tantrum at him.

“I can’t leave your side, and I want to know why,” he demanded, quite arrogantly.

Can’t leave my . . . What? “That’s it! You’re a psycho!

Get away or I’ll scream!” Way to go Lyra, like that'll help.

“Go ahead. I’ll wait until you get it out of your system.”

He leaned against the booth frame, casually crossing his ankles. That calmness he maintained was rather irking me.

“What do you want from me?” I snarled, and shot him a stern look.

He tilted his head slightly and looked at me inquisitively, as if I were some strange, exotic animal whose behavior was something to be studied. After a moment, he cracked a smile and shook his head, melting my defenses with a set of pearl white teeth. Oh, it was a damn adorable smile. I grunted in my mind, and gnawed the inside of my lip. I could feel my facial muscles preparing to smile back.

Quickly, I shifted into serious mode by reminding myself that, hot or not, he could prove to be dangerous and I had no one to help me. As far as I knew, there were no paranormal police to call.

“Maybe I should take a different approach.” All traces of that smile were gone. He bowed his gaze, and crossed his arms, shifting weight to one foot. Just like that, he was back to soldier mode. Gorgeous, but pushy, and scary.

“You think?!” My snarky remark brought his eyes back up to mine. He watched me carefully, occasionally swiping 25

LILLY MANCE

those remarkable forest green eyes with thick lashes, hypnotically making it hard for me to concentrate. Such intense stare pierced right through me, causing shortness of breath. I had never seen such peculiar eyes before: dark green irises encircled by a dark blue band. Finally, he looked away, and I gasped for air, wishing I had something to fan myself with.

“I am trying to find some information and I need to expand my search area, but I can’t. You’re a magnet that keeps pulling me back when I wander too far.” I would have laughed at that lame pickup line—as if ghosts could pick up anyone—but his expression was so I-mean-business serious that I cleared my throat to hide my grin as he continued.

“As soon as I get a certain distance from you, I get snapped back to you against my will.”

“Why do you think it has anything to do with me?” I crossed my arms, and smirked. “We’ve never met, you have no reason to be . . . drawn to me.” The thought that this guy—an embodiment of self-control and male beauty— could be drawn to me against his will caused an internal giggle. If only that could be true. He must have been a heartthrob when he was alive. That would explain his egocentric attitude.

“Each time I was snapped back, I found myself in your proximity.” He motioned my way with his hand, sending a wave of a pleasant vanilla-like scent. Note to self: Do all ghosts smell like vanilla?

“It’s not that big of a town. It could be something else.” I protested, but he interjected.

26

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“No. It’s you!” He said it so as-a-matter-of-factly, narrowing his eyes on me.

“You can’t say that based on just a few encounters!” I counted three in my head.

“Try hundreds,” he sighed, and flapped his arms.

“What?!” He must be joking. “How long…? When…? You mean—” “Every day. For weeks. And, in the beginning, several times a day.”

Shocked, I couldn’t utter a word. This was way out of my comfort zone, not to mention beyond my imagination.

This guy was practically stalking me 24/7, and I only noticed him a few times. What was I still doing there? I should have fled the scene ten minutes ago.

“Are you okay?” He lowered his head to get a better look at my petrified face.

“No!” I hissed. “This is wrong on so many levels.

Please…let me go—” my voice got lost at the end.

“I thought I made it clear—I can’t! Believe me, I’m just as annoyed about this as you are.” He let out a long sigh, and then turned around to face a mirror. Watching his reflection in the mirror, all I could think was—annoyed?

Here I was practically scared to death while partly mooning over him, and he was annoyed?

“Let me see if I got this right. I’m stuck with a dead guy on my back from now on?”

“I’m not dead!” He twisted around as if I had offended him, and glared at me.

“You're not exactly living, either.” I snorted. “What are you then?”

27

LILLY MANCE

“I don't know, but I'm not dead!”

“Humor me for a minute . . . ” I chuckled. “You are not alive, so what makes you think you're not dead? What else is there?”

“Not being one doesn’t automatically imply being the other.” He sneered, those green eyes getting darker. “I've seen people die in a hospital, and they don't end up here.

Wherever here is.” He clenched his teeth.

“Not really 100% solid proof, but I'll buy it for now.”

“There's nothing to buy! I spent days watching dying patients until they passed away. A whitish haze exits the body and floats up toward the sky where it disappears.” His eyes darted toward the ceiling.

“Pfft, how cliché,” I said, receiving another glare from him. “Maybe you're one of those ghosts who have some unfinished business.” I figured one cliché deserved another, and numerous ghost movies came to mind.

“I'm not a ghost!” He snarled. I heard Helen and Maya's voices nearing, and I felt my eyes widen in fear, but he must have already picked up on that, because he said, “To be continued,” and vanished. I grabbed the clothes, closed the booth door, and then heard Helen ask if everything was alright.

“Sure. It's too tight, so I had trouble getting out of it,” I lied as I left the booth.

“We thought you bailed on us, considering how much you're enjoying this,” Maya winked.

“I'd never.” And I meant it. Running away from problems wasn't my modus operandi.

28

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Helen broke in, “Let's grab something to eat. I'm starving.” She rubbed her belly.

“Mario’s?” I suggested. Looking over Helen's shoulder, I could see him watching us. Was it going to be like that forever, I wondered. Is there any difference between me and schizophrenia patients? If it's this real for them, then it must be incredibly hard to come to terms with.

Y Wherever we went for the rest of the afternoon, he would soon appear. Seeing him lurking from a safe distance until we moved elsewhere, always perfectly still, he reminded me of a cheetah watching its prey. Is that what I am to him?

That thought froze the very essence of my being. I broke into a cold sweat. If he planned to harm me, I had no way to defend myself. I rubbed my clammy palms against each other. But if that was the case, why wait? He could have done it by now; apparently he’d had plenty of opportunities.

It's not like a psycho would need my permission. Since it seemed there was really nothing I could do for now, I decided to keep an open mind, and see what would happen next. But with a raised sense of caution, of course.

As the end of the day drew near, I became more accustomed to his presence. Not that his appearance was something a girl couldn't get used to. Quite the contrary. He was like one of those gorgeous guys in posters that you put on your bedroom wall and shamelessly stare at him for hours, imagining him coming to life and… Well, except this one kind of did come off the wall, but he wasn't playing by my rules.

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My fear of him didn’t subside, but my glances in his direction became less about fear and more about selfindulging. Our last destination for the day was the beach.

We found a perfect spot to watch the sunset. After fifteen minutes, I was reclining, propped up on elbows, with my ankles crossed. I tried to look relaxed, but my eyes feverishly scanned the area for my stalker. He didn’t show up this time, but anxiety gripped my thoughts. I couldn’t stop thinking about what he might be up to. If I were true to myself, I would have admitted that I was kind of disappointed.

Maya and Helen had dates later that evening, so they dropped me off in front of my house. Mom was still at work, but knowing her she must have left me something to eat in the crockpot. My stomach churned in response to my thoughts. After several quick glances behind me to make sure there were no paranormal stalkers around, I went in.

A familiar scent of home-sweet-home filled my nostrils as I entered. Empty houses never bothered me before, but after today I really needed someone to be there. It was a false sense of security, I knew, but nevertheless, a soothing one. Mom's voice could have helped a little, so I dialed her work number.

“Mom?” “Honey. Is everything okay?” Mom's voice sounded worried; I never called her out of the blue. Nurses were too busy as it was without needy daughters dragging them away from their work.

“Sure. I just wanted to see when you're coming home. We could watch a movie,” I did my best to allay her concerns.

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“I'll be home soon. That sounds great! Are Maya and Helen busy?” Insightful as ever, Mom was fishing for the real cause of my call.

“Yeah. They have dates.”

“I'll pick up some ice cream on my way home.” That was Mom's way of saying she knew I needed some comforting.

She made two kissing sounds and hung up.

Listening to silence on the other side of the line made me painfully aware of my surroundings and solitude all over again. For a brief moment, talking to Mom dispelled my fears. Now every sound seemed enhanced: the fridge humming, TV making the occasional cracking noises, a distant bird chirping, and a feeling I wasn't as alone as I had previously thought. Suddenly I felt queasy. I looked around the house, but nothing seemed to indicate someone else was there. Lastly, I checked my bedroom, and after seeing it was empty, I smiled at my own paranoia, and sighed out loud, saying, “When did I become so paranoid?” to a teddy bear on my bed. As expected, the teddy had no opinion on the matter.

“Since I appeared,” a steady, deep male voice said behind me.

I jumped violently, screamed, and slammed my back against the wall. My poor heart threatened to beat out of my chest. As soon as my brain managed to puzzle out what was in front of me, anger took over.

“What's wrong with you?!” I yelled at my ghost stalker.

“Do you get a kick out of scaring the crap out of me?”

“No.” He answered, calmly. I examined his face for any trace of a sly grin but found none.

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“Dead or not, I seriously doubt that you’re unaware of what happens when you creep up on someone.” I wanted to smack him. Anger consumed me. “Couldn't you knock, or something?”

“I would have, if I had planned for this to happen.” Just like before, his face revealed zero emotion. Was he human at all? Before he died, I mean. That degree of self-control was other-worldly.

“Oh, please! Don't even try to sell me some crap that it’s a matter of life or death. Some kind of no-time-to-knock emergen—” “—I'd never.” He cut me off, his eyes flaring. “And it's not like that. I was snapped back here.” He snapped his fingers. “That I have no control over.” He turned his back on me and hovered toward the window. “It's not all about you, you know . . . ” His voice lowered.

Oh, crap! His remark left me momentarily embarrassed, but I thought about it, and then said, “Sorry, but a suddenly appearing ghost stalker in my room does make it all about me.”

“You'll have to deal with it.” He turned back around, and fixed his gaze on me. “And make it quick, so we can start figuring this mess out. I have waited long enough.”

“What?! That's just rude! What if I don't want to play your sick little game? I didn't ask for this, and I don't want you here,” I hissed, grinding my teeth.

“You think I chose this?!” Finally, some emotion on that face. I hit a nerve! “I have a body to find. My body! I have no interest in playing games with a brat!”

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Oh no, he didn't just call me a brat!? “You misjudged yourself there. I don't need you. I have a body, and I don't want you here. So just get the hell out, the same way you came in!” Out of all the paranormal stalkers, I got the arrogant one. Apparently, fate had given him Adonis looks but a crappy ego to go along with it.

“As you wish,” he bowed sarcastically, and then hovered out through my bedroom door.

“That's not the way you came in!” I yelled, and slammed the door behind him.

I was pissed beyond belief. That arrogant prick! Who does he think he is, calling me a brat? As if paranormal stalkers are an everyday thing for a teenage girl. Nothing to be scared of. Oh, no, that’s just the normal routine, Lyra.

How dare you question his motives?! Pfft . . . Haunt me forever; see if I care! I marched up and down my room, fueled by anger. No one had ever called me a brat—that was Queen Bee’s description. He couldn’t have offended me more.

Mom got home a bit later than I expected. She had been tied up at work; some accident. I needed time to cool off anyway. She and I had always talked about everything, and if I wanted to hide something from her—especially something as big as this—I had to keep my emotions on a tight leash. Otherwise she’d read me like a magazine. We dug into an extra-large tub of ice cream and talked a bit about what was bothering me. It felt wrong but necessary to lead her down a fake trail of teenage-angst issues, and after she was satisfied that she had comforted me, we 33

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enjoyed a movie. At least I think she enjoyed—my mind was too consumed by paranormal offenses. How dare he call me a brat!

34

Chapter #3 or so long I had kept my quirks to myself. Telling Mom and Dad wasn’t an option. Their concern for my wellbeing would have surely made them consider hiring professional help. Both of them worked in a hospital, they would have pursued that path rather than believe my side of the story. Who could blame them? If I laid all the facts out on the table, it would resemble textbook schizophrenia.

But I needed to tell someone, so I decided to unload my burden on Maya and Helen. We agreed to meet down by the beach.

My cryptic call asking them to meet me made Maya and Helen anxious and once we were settled at a table they couldn't wait for me to start talking. Squirming in her chair, Helen squealed, “Come on, spill it out already!”

“Okay. But please keep an open mind.” I looked at them seriously, already doubting my decision to tell. It was too

F

35

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late to change my mind now. Both girls nodded, so I began, “Ever since I was a child, I’ve been able to see ghosts.”

Maya’s jaw dropped, and Helen said, “Cool! Can you get my dead grandma? I need to ask her where she hid my remote.”

I punched Helen in the shoulder. “You don’t even have a dead grandma!” Maya’s jaw was still down, so I gently pushed it up with a finger.

“No, but I always wanted to say that.” A wide grin broke on Helen’s face.

I dismissed her remark and continued, “Anyway, ghosts could never see me. We never interacted. They were just something I noticed from time to time.”

“Is that why you get weird sometimes?” Maya bounced in her chair as if she had just had an epiphany.

“Yeah. But…” I paused to build my courage. “Something has changed lately.”

“What?” Helen wasn’t hiding her impatience, tapping her foot under the table.

“One can see me. And has been stalking me since post grad party.” Their cheerful mood suddenly changed. Their eyes rounded, and they exchanged looks.

“Is it hostile?” Maya asked, gulping.

“It’s a he and I don’t know. I’m not sure what he—” I didn’t finish my sentence, because Helen jumped in.

“Oh my god, is he here now?” At the thought of a ghost nearby, Maya turned pale and started glancing around.

“No.” Their faces instantly relaxed until I added, “But he might be soon.” They stiffened up again, so I decided to tell 36

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them every bit of information I had. Knowledge brings understanding and peace to situations like that. After a stepby-step narrating of everything that had happened since I first saw him up until our last encounter, they listened without comment, occasionally nodding. After I finished my story, a couple of minutes passed in silence. Then Helen pushed her glass of water toward me, staring off into the distance. I took a sip and waited for their reaction.

“But he is cute?” Maya asked, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“Incredibly! But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s obnoxious and rude. And quite possibly a psycho!” I wondered, Were they missing the point? The danger? Help?

“What are you gonna do now?” Helen, at least, took the matter more seriously.

“I don’t know. Educate his ass about manners?” We chuckled, but the truth was that I was a lot less in control than I led them to believe. And a lot more scared. Even though it wouldn’t help the overall situation, sharing my secret made me feel less alone. “If things get weird—” “—and they’re not already?” Helen interjected, and we burst out laughing. Yeah, I was a whack job, and they knew that.

“Well, weirder than before! Will you’ll cover for me?” I glanced at both of them, expectantly.

“Of course we will.” Maya assured me, and then put an arm around my neck. “You should have told us years ago!”

“There was nothing to tell till now. That brings me to the next thing . . . ” 37

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Maya and Helen's eyes widened. “There's more?”

I chuckled, “No, not more. About Brad's party.”

“Shit.” Maya grimaced.

“Yeah, a big pile. If he stalks me there, and keeps to himself, no worries. But if he decides to talk to me again, I might need assistance.”

“Damn, girl!” Maya pulled her fingers through her hair.

“You know how important this party is to us.”

“I do, and I'll understand if you don't want me to go.” I lowered my gaze. “Actually, that's the reason why I'm telling you all of this.”

“Not going is not an option,” Helen spat out. “You're not getting out of it that easily,” she snickered. “If I didn't know you better, I'd think you made this all up just to avoid going.” She narrowed her eyes on me, suspiciously.

“Unfortunately, it's all true,” I snorted. “Then we have a deal?”

“You didn't say what you want us to do,” Maya said.

“Oh. Crap! If you see me talking to a tree or an empty chair, come to the rescue.”

“That's freaking me out, Lyra.” Maya's forehead creased.

“You and me both,” I smiled.

“We'll let Miss Scaredy Pants out of this one.” Helen glared at Maya.

“I’m not Miss Scaredy Pants,” Maya objected. “I can do this.”

“I'll keep an eye on you, and come if you need me,” Helen added, pretending as if Maya didn’t say anything.

“Thanks. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.”

38

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Y The party was in just a half hour, and I still hadn’t decided on what to wear. My wardrobe was pathetic. Jeans and tops in multiple variations. I wondered why I was even thinking about it. No matter which combination I chose, it would still be jeans and something. Maya and Helen will kill me. Well, what the hell, I’ll go with this one. I pulled out the tightest skinny jeans I had and a black top that was tight around the hips, baggy on top, and open-shouldered on one side. I borrowed Mom’s strappy stilettos, did my nails and makeup, and the only thing left to do was my hair. I went with a French braid hanging down my left shoulder.

Maya honked from my driveway, what prompted me to rush downstairs. As soon as Helen saw me walking out of my house, she burst out laughing. Maya leaned over Helen from her seat to see why, then burst out laughing, too. I frowned, and got in the car.

“What? I did my best. This is the tightest pair of jeans I own.” I grinned.

“Yeah, you did your best.” Helen turned toward Maya, still grinning from ear to ear, “Hand it over,” she said, holding her hand palm-up. Maya rolled her eyes and put a five-dollar bill in Helen’s hand.

“You bet on me?” I asked, open-mouthed.

“Yup, and I won,” Helen smirked. “Maya was foolish enough to think you’d buy something new to wear.”

“Not fair!” I pouted.

“I’ll never give up hoping, though.” Maya snickered, and then hit the gas.

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Y Brad’s place was just outside town on a lonesome estate, hidden away in the woods. When we arrived, the place was already packed with people. Maya complained about finding a parking spot and being late. I, on the other hand, was mesmerized by the size of his house. It didn’t look that grand from the access road. I wondered why his parents allowed him to have parties at a place like this. The damage a bunch of high-school and college kids could do to this type of villa would be way too high of a price to pay.

Maya and Helen straightened their perfect little dresses, smoothing out some of the wrinkles caused by sitting in a car, and motioned for me to follow them. Loud music coming from the back yard gave the impression that the house was vibrating. Brad’s face lit up as soon as he zeroed in on Maya. He left his group of friends, and came to greet us.

“Glad you could make it,” he quipped, leaning in to kiss Maya.

“Helen couldn’t be bothered to hurry up,” Maya grimaced at Helen.

“Where’s Shawn?” Helen asked, glancing around.

“My brother took him on a tour around the house.” Brad pointed upstairs. “Can I get you girls something to drink?”

As soon as Brad left to get us drinks, we looked around the place. We were surrounded by a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Everyone was neatly dressed and throwing occasional glances at us over their drinks. Maya shifted her weight 40

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from foot to foot, nervously twirling a strand of hair. Helen nudged her in the side to stop it. Several unnaturally tanned guys that walked by, ogled me from head to toe, commenting on my not-so-posh appearance. I gave each of them the evil eye.

An hour into the party, I found myself alone, sipping on a virgin colada. My girlfriends were busy slow dancing with their boyfriends, so I found a refuge at a cocktail bar by the pool. After I brushed off several poor pick-up attempts by stuck-up college boys, the bartender was kind enough to leave me alone and not try anything funny. The only thing he did offer was to “spice up” my drink. The shock on my face made it more than clear to him that he was barking up the wrong tree.

The slow dancing was over and couples dispersed from the dance floor, leaving room for others to have a go at it.

Maya and Helen were busy mingling and making impressions, so I didn’t want to disturb them by revealing my location when Helen glanced around to find me. I took a step back into the shadows. It was for the best. I was sure they didn’t need me snapping at the crowd they were trying to impress. Posh people are the type that usually made my inner bitch come out and play.

When Helen stopped searching for me I stepped out of the shadows, and caught a glimpse of my paranormal stalker. Unlike Helen he didn’t need to search for me; his prying eyes knew exactly where to find me. Holding his stare, I ordered another virgin colada—my fifth to be exact—wishing it was spiced up this time. He better keep 41

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his distance. Tonight I wasn’t in the mood to play hide-andseek with him.

I devoted my attention to my drink, playing with the little colorful umbrella. My stalker was still in my line of sight, sticking out in the crowd like an elephant in a hen house. I giggled. At least we had one thing in common: neither of us fit in. He belonged on a cover of Vogue magazine, and I on a milk carton. I twirled the toothpick umbrella between my fingers, pondering how it would be if he were real. Impudently, I scanned him from top-down.

His lips curled into a smile. As if shielding himself from my impure thoughts, he crossed his arms. But all that did was bring his impeccable biceps into view. I giggled. I wouldn’t mind having those wrapped around me. I raised my glance, and stared at him wistfully, biting my lip. Insolently, he stared back, wearing a devilish grin as if he could read my mind. I sighed, saying, “Just my luck,” flicking the little umbrella down the bar. The bartender took that as a sign to get me another drink. Good. This one was finished anyway.

Half-way through my sixth colada, I felt the need to sit down. I was weak in the knees and dizzy. My stalker became blurry but he was thankfully still in the same place.

Walking away from the cocktail bar, I struggled to keep my balance. Thinking it was best to stay away from the pool until my poor legs rested, I went to crash in one of the tartan chairs. Oh boy, did I crash. Several heads turned my way, commenting on my wasted status. Wasted? I wasn’t wasted! My hands hung loose by my sides, but my legs felt better.

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For some odd reason, my stalker decided it would be okay to come closer. With tremendous effort, I raised my glance and stuttered, “Didn’t I . . . tell you . . . to get the hell—” “—you did,” he cut me off. Some heads turned around to see why I was talking to myself. “So this is your idea of fun?” He clasped the back of his neck, ogling me.

I grimaced, “Go away!” I waved my arm, and it fell back to the side of the chair.

“You’re drunk.” He snorted, folding his arms in front.

If only I could move, I'd get up and bite that biceps. Did he say drunk? I rolled my eyes, “I’m not—” I paused. I was unable to form a coherent sentence. And then it hit me.

“That bastard!” I looked toward the bartender. “He messed with my virgin colada.”

His lips curled to the side, “How many did you have?”

“Six.” “And you didn’t taste the liquor?”

Oh, how I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. “No, asshole,” I glared at him. “That’s what cocktails were invented for. To disguise the liquor.”

Out of nowhere, Maya and Helen appeared with worried looks on their faces. My stalker winked, and distanced himself.

“Lyra,” Helen squealed, sitting down. “What happened?

The word got out that some girl in jeans got wasted and is talking to herself.”

“Not to myself!” I snorted, having a hard time keeping my eyes open.

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“He’s here?” Helen glanced frantically around us.

“Was. Not anymore.”

“How much did you drink?” Maya asked, her face boiling with anger.

“I don’t know,” I hissed.

“What do you mean you don’t know? How much?”

“The freaking bartender spiked my drinks.” I pointed my finger at him, and they both looked in his direction. All of a sudden, instead of lighting up a line of B-52s, the bartender started jumping around and screaming like a five-year-old. His apron was on fire. I couldn’t hide my amusement. He took the apron off and jumped on it until the flames died out. The whole time the crowd laughed like crazy. Only I could see the man responsible for his trouble.

My ghost stalker bowed toward me, taking credit for the incident, and left the scene.

Y Days went by without his appearance, but just because I wasn’t seeing him didn’t mean that he wasn’t there. I was sure he was watching like he had before I knew he existed.

That state of things was far worse than arguing with him.

Even when absent he had an impact on my life, and that bothered me. Really, anything was better than this. I was glad when he made his appearance on Brad’s posh party since it was boring, and the bartender stunt did earn him some credit, but talking to him where everyone could see caused some damage. Now I was known in college circles as “that psycho girl.”

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Maya and Helen were right: the impression you made at that party would follow you to college. Luckily I wasn’t going to college, but I did have paranormal situation to deal with.

Standing outside my house in our garden I decided to resolve that issue. I had to make him go away for good, or I’d be stuck with him for life. Fiddling with a rose petal, I took a deep breath, then said aloud, “Are you here?”

“Mostly,” a familiar, deep voice replied behind me, startling me in spite of the fact that I expected him to be there.

“Oh, that’s creepy! Do you follow me into the bathroom, as well?” It would be totally awkward if he did, and I was powerless to do anything about it.

“No. Why would I spoil my lunch?” He replied, casually.

I could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on that stern face. His tall, lean figure moved gracefully between the roses. With hands folded behind his back, he bent down to smell one.

“Since when do dead guys eat?” I replied, rustling my fingers through leaves.

“Will you drop the dead thing? It makes you sound . . . stupid,” he retorted, straightening his back.

“First you call me a brat, and now stupid?!” I hissed, regretting my decision to call him. “Okay, pal, you’re gonna have to find a better way to use your words, ‘cuz this isn’t getting you any bonus points.” I crossed my arms, and glared at him.

“Let me lay it out for you, and then you tell me what to 45

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call you.” He crossed his arms as well, rocking back on his heels.

“Fine!”

“Apparently you define the living as being able to interact with you.” He paused as if he expected my answer.

“Uh-huh.”

“Further, you define the dead as the opposite of being alive, which would make them unable to interact with you.”

Seeing where he was going with that, I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued, “As I’m clearly interacting with you, that would make me very much alive. So you calling me dead would then make you, what?”

“Misguided,” I huffed. “Certainly not stupid!”

“And calling me dead repeatedly, even after I told you I wasn’t, would make you, what?” He tilted his head, raising a brow.

“Deaf?” I narrowed my eyes, not happy with the way that conversation was going.

“Right. So, will you withdraw your claws and act like an adult?” He demanded, maintaining a perfect posture.

“No!” Surprise flashed in his amazing eyes, revealing a few dark teal specks that I didn’t notice before. “You may have partially proven your point, Mr. Spock, but there are other things besides logic to consider.” His upper lip curled slightly, but that pissed me even more. “You see, I’m a teenage girl, and acting like an adult isn’t exactly what average teenage girls do! We have the right to be irrational, illogical, spoiled, fun-loving, and mistake-makers. In other words, we have the right to not think of a not-dead ghost’s 46

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problems. Would you care to tell me what to call an adult who expects rational behavior from a teenager?” I put my fists on my hips and spread my elbows as wide as I could.

Swiftly, he turned his back on me, and started slowly hovering down the garden. But before he managed to turn in full, I caught a glimpse of what looked like a repressed grin.

“I’m glad you find my logic hilarious,” he said, and then turned back around to face me, “But it’s the only thing keeping me sane in this extraordinary situation. On the other hand, calling yourself average is quite amusing.” He smirked, piercing my victory bubble. Annoyingly, nothing slipped by him. He clung to my every word.

“I’m pretty sure we’ll never be able to get along, so why don’t you make yourself scarce again?”

“Since you’re exhibiting cat-like behavior, I should have known you’d get a thrill out of playing cat and mouse.”

Completely unexpectedly, he swished right into my face, stopping only inches away. I could feel his breath touching my lips. I knew he must have done that on purpose in order to throw me out of balance, so I stared into his mesmerizing eyes without blinking.

After a moment, I took a step back and said, as calmly as I could, “I’m not the one playing games here.”

“Oh, no?!” His brows shot up. “You send me away, then you call me back, and then you push me away again. Kind of resembles playing with a yo-yo, don’t you think?” A smug grin spread over his face.

“Didn’t we cover that? I’m a stupid, average, teenage 47

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brat who behaves irrationally. You’re a cocky, arrogant, alive ghost who got himself glued to my ass, and you bounce back and forth as I walk. That must be the yo-yo effect you’re experiencing.” A victory grin hijacked my face.

At first, he looked at me baffled, then his lips curled, and finally he burst out laughing hard. In the midst of it— puff!—and he was gone. Ripples of his laughter lingered in my ears as I stared at an empty space in front of me. Well, that was odd.

Obviously talking got us nowhere. At least I wasn't afraid of him anymore. He had lost that scary edge, and now I felt more in control. I smiled to myself. Hell, I even felt a bit curious about his not-dead situation. He was far more interesting than any guys I knew; I had to give him that. Not to mention he was drop-dead gorgeous. The dropdead part made me chuckle.

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Chapter #4 everal days earlier, I had noticed our favorite hangout at the beach was looking for a waitress. I had never waited tables before, but it would be a good starting point.

Dad had said he would help me find a job after his return, but I was sure he wouldn't mind me taking an opportunity such as this one. It would be a perfect summer job. I called the restaurant and scheduled an interview. Maya agreed to drive me there.

“Hop in, working girl,” she said, opening the passenger door.

“Thank you, ma'am.” I grinned.

“Hope you don't mind; I arranged for support to meet us there.”

“Maya, you didn't! I'm nervous enough as it is!” Great, I thought, more material to stress over.

“Yes, I did. And no one's gonna make fun of you while you serve us.”

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Serve them? I cringed. “I don’t think I’m gonna get to serve anyone today, let alone you guys.” Thinking of serving them made me reevaluate my decision to work in a place full of familiar faces. Was I up for that challenge? “I’m just going in for an interview.”

“You never know,” Maya winked. “That's exactly why we decided to come. If you can handle us, you'll be able to handle anyone.” She was right. It would be a sort of controlled experiment.

Entering Mario's beach bar, I felt as if I had never been there. Suddenly I noticed so many things I overlooked before. It seemed a lot bigger and unfamiliar. Maya hugged me, looked into my eyes, nodded, and then joined the rest of the gang waving at us from our usual table. My pulse picked up, and I had to wipe clammy hands before entering the personnel area. I took several deep breaths and knocked.

“Come in,” a male voice said from behind the door.

“Hello, I called you earlier about a job . . . .” I said, still holding the door knob.

“Yes, yes. Lyra, isn't it? Please, have a seat.” He was a slightly bald, round faced, middle-aged man I hadn’t seen before. He sat at his desk, motioning for me to sit across from him.” You're one of the high-school kids that come here all the time, right?”

Was I so up in the clouds that I never noticed the people who clearly watched me? “Yes, that's right. I just finished high school and am looking for a job.”

“Is this your first job?”

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“It will be if you give me a chance.” I smiled, and he returned a smile.

“Well, I don't know what you've heard, but I believe in giving chances to people without experience, so you've come to the right place. As a matter of fact, whether someone is fit for this job or not can be seen in first half hour,” he motioned for me to follow him.

“Like now?” I was confused. Did he mean I should start right away? Fear spread through my veins.

“Yes, no better time than now. Let's see how you handle this kind of pressure. Lisa, give this girl an apron and fill her in on the basics. We have a trainee!”

A girl named Lisa smiled and took my hand. Her voluptuous body rhythmically swayed in front of me as I followed her to a changing room. She handed me a small, white apron and said, “Relax, it's easy. Just focus and try to write down everything a table orders and give it to the bartender. The only thing you have to remember is which table to deliver it to.” She handed me a pen and a scratch pad.

We went to the back and she introduced me to the bartender. “Jake, this is Lyra. She's on a trial run here, so take it easy on her.” Yeah, that made my ears start buzzing again. Like Lisa, Jake seemed thirty-something with a notat-all likable face. He nodded, and continued to wipe the glass in his hand. “Lyra, which table would you like to start with?” She pointed out those in need of service.

Immediately, I remembered Maya's comment and picked her table. What the hell; if I can't do it now, I never will.

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My heart pounded on my way over, but I maintained a confident expression and walked firmly, clutching the pen and paper in my hands.

“Hello guys,” I grinned, proud of myself for not fainting midway. “May I take your order?”

“Wow, Lyra! Did you get the job?” Helen asked. Seeing a mix of hopefulness and pride on my friends’ faces melted what was left of my fear. It boosted my self-confidence.

“Not yet. I'm on probation.” They each proudly recited their orders, I wrote them down, and went back to the bartender, feeling kind-of good about myself. I broke the ice! Meeting Jake's cold expression wiped the grin off my face, though. Not your friendliest bartender. Moments later, he filled my tray with drinks, and a second test had begun: Lifting it off the bar without spilling the darn thing all over.

Wow, it was heavy! I had to carry it with both hands, but I managed to get it to my friends’ table without making a mess. Good thing I already knew what each of them liked to drink, because I would have been in trouble if I had to remember who ordered what. I made a mental note to pay attention to that next time.

Several other tables went smoothly, and I was thankful to Maya and the gang for coming. If it wasn’t for them, I would have failed. Mr. Thompson, the manager, congratulated me on passing the test and becoming one of Mario's team members. I would start first thing in the morning. It was time to call Mom. She was going to be thrilled that I got the job.

After calling Mom, I went to join my friends. As I was 52

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walking over, Maya mouthed silently, “You got it?” The entire table stood up and cheered. They all patted my back as I was sitting down, and congratulated me on my first job.

“I owe you guys,” I confessed.

“For what?” Brad asked, putting his arm around Maya.

“For being here. You have no idea how much it meant to me.” Happiness and pride filled my chest.

“Nah, it's what friends do,” Helen said, slurping the last of her smoothie.

“I was freaking out, and seeing you all here grounded me enough to make it through. Drinks are on me,” I signaled Lisa to come take our order. She smiled, and came right away.

“Are these your friends?”

“Yeah,” I grinned.

“Good choice for table one,” she winked. “What will it be, little one?”

“I'll have an iced tea,” I said and looked at others. Pride on their faces told me how lucky I was to have such support. Priceless!

We stayed at Mario's until closing. Although Brad and Shawn were new additions to our group, their warm personalities and genuine care fit right in. It didn't feel at all awkward exposing my fears and doubts about the job in front of them. Both of them encouraged my decision to explore this path before college, which earned them shoulder punches from my girlfriends. Looking at our group, I felt sadness due to their soon departure, and the solitude of my chosen path. At the end of summer, they'll be 53

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gone, and new faces will call Mario's their home. Good thing Maya and Helen didn't know that adrenalin fueling my emotions at that moment could have made me change my mind about going to college.

Y Mom worked the graveyard shift again. I came home from Mario's just as she was about to leave. She squeezed the soul out of me, and her eyes watered.

“My little working girl,” she said, caressing my cheek.

“Fresh clothes for the morning are on your bed.”

“Aww, Mom. You didn't have to do that.” I kissed her on the cheek.

“Oh, yes I did! On my first day, I would have gone out in pajamas if it weren't for my mother. Never underestimate first-day jitters!” She kissed my forehead, and was out the door.

The adrenaline wore off, leaving me tired as hell. I went upstairs, and crashed on the bed next to neatly folded clothes. A light scent of fabric softener wafted gently from them and lulled me into a half-dream state. My eyelids felt heavy, and I fought to keep sleep away. Squinting, I traced the outline of a white blouse two inches from my nose, when I heard knocking on my bedroom door.

“Did you forget something?”

“May I come in?” The slightly hoarse, male voice jolted me into high level of alertness. I cleared my throat, and sat up.

“Sure.”

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“Congrats on getting a job,” my ghost stalker said, closing the door behind him with a silent click.

“Thanks, I guess.” How long had he been here? Good thing that never crossed my mind.

“You'll be great at it,” he said, leaning his back against the door. I expected him to fall through just like ghosts do, but he didn't. His body remained comfortably in place, filling my room with his presence and that hint of vanilla. No doubt, he was incredibly good to look at. Otherworldly beautiful. Paranormal creepiness aside, I'd give my all to have him. That prompted me to say, “Can I help you?” regretting it immediately. How stupid of me, knowing he wanted something from day one. I needed to snap out of this.

He cracked a smile, and crossed one foot over the other, “My name is Zack.”

“Oh-kay…” That was weird considering our past conversations. “I'm Lyra, but you knew that already.” He maintained a mysterious half-smile, so I asked, “What's funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” he sucked in both lips for a split second.

“It must be something since you're smiling.” Was this the same guy? Where did that stern soldier go? He seemed relaxed. Almost normal.

“The way you frowned when I introduced myself.” He threw a bland look my way.

I rolled my eyes, “Glad to see I amuse you.”

“It's a nice change.” The patronizing attitude of his brought out my bitchiness, making me want to smack his Royal Smugness. He practically begged for it!

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“What do you want?”

“Back to your old self, I see.” And just like that the smile disappeared from his face. Detaching his back from the door, he pushed himself toward my bed. And me.

“Excusez moi, but you're the one who came into my room. Not the other way around.” He was getting dangerously close now.

“True. But cut me some slack, will you? I'm trying to be polite here.” He bent, and placed his hands on the outsides of my thighs, our noses almost touching.

“Would you mind removing yourself from my personal space? I need to breathe,” I raised one eyebrow, and stared into those easy-to-lose-myself-in eyes. He laughed and straightened up.

“Look. I really need your help. Put yourself in my position for just a moment.” His expression revealed a hint of vulnerability, melting my guard down. For a moment, I was able to forget what he was, and saw in front of me just a regular guy that needed my help.

“Zack, is it?” He nodded. “Right. Zack, I don't understand your position, so I can't put myself in your shoes. All I know is that you're stalking me, allegedly unable to leave me, and we verbally attack each other whenever we speak. You need to explain more if my understanding is what you seek.” Wow, that was weird to hear coming out of my mouth. He let out a deep sigh, crossed to the other side of the bed, and sat down. “You can sit?” I asked, amazed by that fact.

“Maybe we should start at that. My current existence is 56

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exactly like yours. I have to walk, ride the bus, open doors, and light bartenders on fire.” He chuckled, giving me a significant look. “I have to do everything like a normal person.”

“I never did thank you for that bartender,” I smiled, but then his words sunk in. My mouth dropped in shock. It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t be like me. He’s a freaking ghost, for crying out loud!

“Don’t mention it.” He smiled, over-confidently.

“But you're hovering, not walking,” I challenged. If what he said were true, it would be a game-changer. He would, in fact, be real. That thought sent a heat wave down my spine. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Did someone turn up the temperature in my room?

“I'm not hovering. That's how you see me because we don't share exactly the same realm. To me, you’re the one who’s hovering” “No way!”

“That's what I was trying to tell you, but you wouldn't listen.” He shook his head.

“Wait a minute! If everything is normal, how do you get snapped back to me? That's a bit contradictory, don't you think? In my world, we don't get snapped no matter what,” I frowned, suspecting foul play.

“Exactly!” He jumped up, excited, as if I had struck gold, or something. That confused me; not a typical reaction from a liar. “Now, imagine if that happened to you in your otherwise normal world. Wouldn’t you think it had something to do with the person you get repeatedly snapped next to?”

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“Hm.” He had a point. I would. But I wasn't going to fall for it until all puzzle pieces fit together. “And what about vanishing in the middle of a conversation, or appearing out of thin air when I called you the other day?”

“Imagine two overlapping circles,” he formed circles with his thumbs and index fingers, and then linked them.

“We can both move inside our own circles, but see each other only in the overlapping parts. I don't vanish, I just move out of your visual field.” He sat back down on the bed, but I jerked up, and started pacing up and down my room with hands crossed behind my back.

Everything sounded so logical, and I was quite willing to believe it all. Replaying all the events in my head, I couldn't find a flaw in his story. Suddenly, I was aware that there was an incredibly handsome twenty-something guy on my bed. Real. Flesh and blood. Not a ghost, not a paranormal apparition, but a person. The room suddenly felt small, suffocating me.

“Lyra? Please, say something,” he said, his words stopping me in my tracks. There was only one way to put an end to that story. If what he said was true, I must be able to touch him. For real.

“You've got a crazy look in your eyes,” he said, studying me carefully. “What are you up to?” His head tilted as I clenched my fists. “Lyra?” His voice took on a pleading tone.

I took one step closer, staring straight into his eyes. “You look like a mad woman,” he added, nervously grinning. One more step, and finally determination took over me, and I found my finger clashing against his rock-hard abs.

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“Oh my God!” I shrieked. Zack burst out laughing, lying back on my bed. “It’s not funny!” I said, caressing my finger as if it was burned.

“So you didn't believe a word I said,” he replied, still laughing. I didn't respond. It was too much to process. He was real. As real as I was. I wondered about the implications that had on my religious beliefs.

“For someone I had to fight with just to say what I wanted, you're awfully quiet now,” he spouted, sitting back up, and nudged his head to the side, looking quite amused.

“How can this be?” I could barely get the words out.

“I don't know,” he answered, his face going back to serious. “When I first found myself in this state, I had no recollection of who I was. Gradually, some things came back to me. Things like my name, some fragments from past memories. But the information I have is mostly inconclusive.”

“Do you know where you're from? What happened to you?”

“Nope. Most of the fragments don't match anything from around here.”

“Zack?”

“Yeah?” A set of pearl white teeth lined up on his face.

“This is a lot to digest. I feel so tired right now. Can we continue this another time?”

“Sure. I waited this long, didn’t I?” Zack flashed a smile, got up, and went for the door. Before leaving he turned around to say, “Sweet dreams.”

“Mmhmm,” I muttered, already curled up in a fetal position, hugging my teddy bear. I needed to distance 59

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myself from all the information I had received. My mind was boggled. I struggled to stop the thoughts swarming around inside my mind, torturing me. After a while, all that was left in my head was a tiny voice repeating, “He's real.”

Y The noise from the alarm clock pierced my ears. I slammed the off button with a heavy thud. Still curled up and fully dressed, I looked around my room. Zack wasn’t there. I stretched my aching body, and all of my joints made cracking sounds. My neck felt stiff. Thank god I didn't roll over the clothes Mom had laid out for me.

Still drowsy, I dragged my feet all the way into the bathroom to wash my face. Cold water brought relief to my weary eyes. I took a look at my own reflection in the mirror.

Teddy's buttons left deep imprints on my left cheek. In slow motion, I squeezed out the last drop of toothpaste, and brushed my teeth. Wide, slow circles across my gums felt more like massage than brushing. The bird’s nest on my head would require some work, so I left it for later.

Fully clothed, I went downstairs to force some breakfast down my throat. The smell of bacon and eggs hit my nostrils when I walked into the kitchen.

“Mom?” “Morning sleepy,” she replied with a wide smile.

“Did you sleep at all?” She couldn't have; not after her graveyard shift.

“Not yet. I couldn't miss my only daughter's first day at work.”

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“Aww.” I felt all warm and fuzzy. I didn't expect her to do that. Washing clothes was already way too much.

“Besides, I have all morning to sleep, and you'll need extra strength to get through the day.” Mom put two fried eggs next to bacon on a plate and pushed it down the table.

The plate stopped inches from a glass full of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“What would I do without you?” I smiled, splashing salt over the eggs. My stomach churned in response.

“Dig in.”

Y Making my hair behave turned out to be harder than I expected. Finally, I managed to make a bun out of it, hoping it would hold until the end of my shift. Thick, heavy hair such as mine wasn't easy to tame. That's why I always wore it straight down. Not today, though. All I needed was my hair slipping into the drinks on my tray.

I took the bus to Mario's, thinking about last night's conversation with Zack. A part of me wanted to accept it as real—the part that was attracted to him from the moment I saw him. The scared part of me struggled with that possibility. It nagged at me to believe it was all a dream, knowing it would be easier to come to terms with that version of events. But it couldn't have been a dream.

Though it would be so much easier to get back to having a paranormal stalker than to face a flesh-and-blood person no one else could see, I had to acknowledge the fact. Zack is real. My insides quivered at that thought. Immersed in my 61

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thoughts, I almost forgot to get off of the bus on time. At the last minute, I slipped through closing doors, getting an angry honk from the bus driver. I fought the urge to flip him off.

Mario's was so different early in the morning. A stale stench of hard liquor filled the air, combined with a sweet smell of freshly baked pastry and a sour smell of coffee.

“There she is,” Lisa's cheerful voice interrupted my observations. I smiled, and said hello. “I'll be working with you today, but starting tomorrow, you're on your own.” I nodded.

After putting on an apron, preparing pots of coffee, arranging muffins and other pastries, people started slowly coming in. I was baffled by the fact how natural it felt for me to serve them. Lisa said they rarely had new faces in the morning, and that soon I’d know which newspaper to bring to whom, and how many coffee refills each of them needed. According to her, the night shift was a nightmare compared to morning because of all the drunks.

“But that's not in store for you,” she said. “Jake and I own that shift,” she reassured me, throwing an enigmatic look toward now vacant Jake's bar. I smirked, suspecting there might be more than work between them.

“Speaking of Jake, when does he come in?” His gruff face came to mind. The later, the better.

“He works night shifts, but like yesterday, he jumps in when he's needed. He lives upstairs,” she pointed a finger at the ceiling. A knot formed in my stomach at the possibility of Jake popping in whenever he felt like it.

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“Is he always that friendly?” I just had to ask.

“Oh, don't let him get to you. Underneath that hard surface, he's really a sweetheart.” Maybe to her, but he freaked me out.

Y At the end of my shift, my feet were killing me. Everything went the way I hoped, and I really enjoyed my first day at work. Jake came down only once, for breakfast. It was a bit awkward serving his lovable personality, but he didn't even acknowledge me. As soon as he had finished his breakfast, and took his grumpy self back upstairs and I was able to relax again.

Walking across the street toward the bus station, I was surprised to see Zack waiting there—something a normal person would do. My heart fluttered. A small smile escaped my attempt at self-control, and I had to admit to myself that I was extremely glad to see him. This time, though, it was different. I wasn't walking up to a ghost that annoyed me; I was walking up to a guy that would make any man look like a hog by comparison. Absolutely aware of his godlike appearance, and the effect it had on me, I felt so simple and plain. My reflection in a window didn’t exactly boost my selfesteem, either. That ever-present pale complexion combined with dark brown hair that usually made me feel pretty and confident, now made me feel like a zombie. All I needed was red eyes instead of brown ones to pass as a one. I pulled my fingers through my hair. A couple of butterflies tripped over each other in my belly as Zack cracked a smile.

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“Good day?” He asked, his usually dark green eyes now sparkled in broad daylight. Only a slight translucency of his body give away his ghost status.

“Yup.” I responded shortly. “What? Don't tell me you weren't there to spy on me?” I grinned, struggling to keep my act together. Amazing how much was changed by the fact that he was real. I was nervous!

“Now that you know all about me, where's the fun in that?” His grin widened. “I decided to stalk your mother for a change.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but instead I laughed.

There was a hint of mischief on his face that told me he must have been joking. “No, seriously. Were you there?”

“Ha! None of your business.” His eyes revealed he was enjoying my interest, so I decided to push that topic further.

“I feel offended,” I proceeded to fake-pout. “I liked you more as a ghost.”

“You liked me?! God! Remind me to never get on your bad side. If that's how you treat people you like…” His body rocked with a deep laugh.

“I didn't say I liked you at all.” I felt my cheeks burning up. Oh, I liked him, alright. “If I hate black and blue, saying I liked blue more than black doesn't mean I stopped hating either one of them. There's a difference!” I rambled, feeling a weakness in my knees.

“So, you still hate me?” Now he made a sad face. I wasn’t entirely sure it was fake-pout like mine.

The bus was nearing, and I took a step toward the curb.

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less.” The bus door opened in front of me, and I took a step in.

“Oh, I'm not coming along,” he said, sending a painful stab straight to my heart. I hesitated for a moment with my back turned toward him, then got on the bus without a word. I sat in the first available seat and stared forward.

The bus started moving.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! He's still the same arrogant, obnoxious person he was. Why did I let myself forget that?

So he's not a ghost, but that doesn't change a thing. I was angry with myself beyond belief. I had behaved like lovesick schoolgirl back there. Flirting? What has gotten into me? Stupid, stupid . . .

Nevertheless, the bus ride home was a bitter experience. And for what? A set of assumptions on my side?

As soon as I saw him there, I assumed he was waiting for me. I needed to get my priorities straight. Defiantly, I lifted my chin. It’s time to take two steps back, and start thinking with my head for a change.

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Chapter #5 ach day at work went better than the one before. I loved working at Mario's and felt as if I had always been a part of the team. My friends made an effort to come earlier than we ever used to so they could catch the end of my shift. It quickly became a ritual—I served them, finished cleaning up, and then joined them at the table.

Today was no different.

“Hi gang, what will it be?” They recited their orders, and before I went to get them, I whispered, “Today I get my first paycheck.” Their eyes watered. I was the first from our group to get a job, so it felt like it was the first paycheck for all of us. Maya silently clapped with the tips of her fingers.

There was one more table to serve and then I had to meet the manager. It has hard to control my excitement.

I approached my last table. A large, overweight man was sitting there, his butt cheeks spilling over each side of

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the chair. The poor chair made squeaking sounds as he wiggled in his seat. His shirt was having a hard time keeping all its buttons in place. I prayed to God that they would hold on till I got his order. I'd hate to be in his proximity when they burst.

“Hi. May I take your order, sir?” He lifted his gaze from the menu, and a set of two small, squinting eyes met mine.

A cold stare sent a chill down my neck.

“Three specials, and make 'em bigger than the last time,” he growled, and returned his gaze back to the menu.

On my way to the kitchen, I saw Jake leaving the manager's office, tucking his paycheck in his back pocket.

As he did so, his white shirt spread, revealing a hairy navel.

Our gazes met, and he nodded. I did the same, shaking of the image of his navel from my mind.

House specials were lined up on the counter, so I took three of them and went back to serve the obese gentleman.

I arranged them in front of him in a triangle shape. He took one glimpse at the plates and started yelling.

“What the hell is this?! I told you to make 'em bigger!”

He pushed all three of them off the table. Plates went crashing down, sending pieces of food all over the floor, and I jerked back, hugging my tray.

“Is there a problem, sir” I heard Jake's voice behind me, but I was too afraid to look away from the angry man. Jake put his hands protectively over my shoulders. I was thankful for the gesture; it made me feel safer.

“You call these meals? These are kid-sized,” the man continued to yell.

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“Calm down, sir,” Jake continued in a steady voice. “It's none of my business what you think of our portions, they're sized for normal people. But it is my business if you take it out on this innocent girl.” Jake pushed me behind him. I was surprised to see that my entire body could hide behind his.

“Are you saying I'm not normal?!” The man was red in his face, breathing heavily. “I'll sue your ass!”

“Sure you will.” Jake's voice remained calm. “Do I need to call the police, or would you like to take it outside with someone your own size?” Jake's fists clenched, and there was no doubt in my mind he would use the obese man as a punching bag.

The man mumbled something and went for the door, but Jake grabbed his shirt from the back, stopping him in place. Shirt buttons burst, revealing a hideous ball of meat.

Some buttons managed to hit windows, making people nudge their heads.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Jake growled. Fear spread over obese man's face. “You were about to pay and leave this lovely girl a fat tip.” The man nodded, sweat beads rolling down his forehead. He pulled a fistful of cash from his pocket and put it in Jake's hand. Then he wobbled out the door. Jake turned around, and said, “Here you go, kid,” handing me the cash.

“Thank you,” was all I could say. I felt so small, but safe. This paternal side of Jake made me reconsider my view of him.

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happens, someone will always get me to sort it out. Just make sure you don't get hurt until I come.” I nodded and gulped. “It doesn't happen often, you don't have to be afraid.” For the first time, Jake pulled his mouth into something resembling a genuine smile. Not perfect, but close enough. I guess his face wasn’t cut out for smiling.

“Are you okay?” Brad stood up as soon as I went to our table, and pulled out a chair for me to sit.

“Yeah. That was awkward.”

“I would have cried,” Maya said, looking like she meant it.

“I would have screamed at least,” said Helen.

“I wanted to do both, but I froze in place.” I admitted.

“Thank God that big guy stepped in,” Shawn added.

Compared to Jake, both Shawn and Brad were midgets.

“Who would have thought Jake was the type to come to someone’s rescue?” Helen raised her eyebrows.

“Not me,” I shrugged. “He didn't strike me as that kind of a guy.”

“Listen,” Maya changed the subject, “It's warm enough, so we agreed to go swimming.”

“I have to go home first. Oh, and I have to get my paycheck! I completely forgot about it in all the chaos.”

“Okay. Meet you on the beach, then?”

“Deal,” I replied.

Y My first paycheck wasn’t much, but it was enough to make me feel like a productive member of society. It was a damn good feeling! I went to the bus station, secretly hoping Zack 69

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would be there, but he wasn't. Since my flirt-accident, he hadn’t popped in, or showed up anywhere. I started to suspect something had happened to him. Although he predominantly got on my nerves, I had gotten used to having him around. Whether I was surrounded by friends or all alone, I always felt lonely. I don't know how and why, but Zack chased that feeling away. I felt more alive arguing with him than I ever had before.

I was sitting at the bus station, looking through my purse, when a large shadow blocked the sun. I looked up, and saw the fat man in front of me. My heart stopped.

“You owe me money!”

“What money?” I was scared to death, and feeling so tiny compared to the huge figure standing in front of me.

“The money your bully friend took from me.” The fat man stepped closer in a very threatening manner.

“I don't have it. It belongs to Mario's,” I replied, scared of the reaction my reply would get.

“I don't care! Give me all you've got in there,” he pointed at my purse. Instinctively, I held the purse to my chest. The man grabbed it, ripping it out of my hands. At the same time, a hand grabbed his throat from behind. The fat man started choking, releasing my purse to fight off his attacker.

I was petrified, but glad Jake had seen my peril, and decided to step in again. From behind the fat man a familiar voice screamed, “RUN! I can't hold him much longer!” In that instant, I knew it wasn't Jake. It was Zack!

My mind was incapable of deciding what to do first—grab the purse, start running, or hug Zack to thank him.

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Zack yelled, “NOW!” Motivated by the sense of urgency in his voice, I did just that. I snatched my purse from the ground, and started running faster than I ever had. I glanced back and saw Zack still holding him. My feet felt heavy, refusing to cooperate. I could have stumbled at any moment, so I stopped at the park. It seemed far enough away from my attacker. Both Zack and the fat man were no longer in sight. I sat on a bench and put my head between my knees, panting hard. My lungs struggled for air. Each breath I took seemed to lack oxygen, making me fight for more. My heart hammered so hard that it felt like my entire body rocked with each beat.

When I finally caught my breath, my mind went into high-stress mode. I wondered why Zack decided to get involved, and hoped he wouldn't harm that man too much. I hoped he wouldn't get hurt himself. Oh, God, I hoped he would be okay. I reached for my purse to call the police.

“There you are,” a voice said. I shrieked, and jumped up from the bench. Then I saw it was only Zack and without thinking, I ran straight into his embrace. Locking my arms around his waist, I burrowed my face in his chest, just below his jaw. He hesitated for several seconds, then put his arms around my shivering body, lowering his chin on my head, and gently stroking my hair.

I could hear his heart rhythmically beating; it had a soothing effect on me. Fear left my body, and something else took its place, sending all my senses into overdrive. I was suddenly hyper-aware of each point where our bodies touched. The warmth that radiated from his chest with 71

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each heartbeat had an intoxicating effect on me. Noticing his pulse picking up a bit sent mine into cardiac arrest. All I wanted was to raise my head from under his jaw, and connect with those full lips that were calling me with each breath that caressed my hair.

His breathing got heavier, luring me to give in to temptation. Slowly, I moved my head back, toward his shoulder, leaving my lips only inches from his neck. His jaw clenched as my breath touched his neck, then he pressed his cheek against my forehead. His neck connected with my lips, and I stopped my breathing completely. He sucked in a sharp breath, and I felt his body stiffen up under my arms.

A couple of long moments passed without either of us breathing, and then he put his hands on my shoulders, and put distance between us.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” He asked, his voice slightly hoarse. The black of his pupils almost covered the green.

I cleared my throat, and said “I'm okay.” Reality kicked in, and I looked around. It was good that no one was near us, because it would have appeared as if I was hugging air.

“Are you okay?”

“Sure.” He released my shoulders, and let his arms freefall, while at the same time avoiding my glance.

“What happened to the fat man?”

“Oh, nothing. I released him as soon as you were far enough away. He has no idea what happened to him. No serious injuries, just a sore throat,” Zack let out a halflaugh, tucking his hands in pockets.

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“I'm thinking about calling the police. What's gonna stop him from coming after me tomorrow?” Dread washed over me at the thought.

“I have a better idea. I followed him home. He lives nearby, so I thought about paying him a nightly visit. If I talk to his subconsciousness while he sleeps, I might be able to make him forget you ever existed.”

“What? How?” This was getting weirder by the minute.

“You see, this state I'm in has its privileges. While I was hanging out in the hospital, I discovered that if I talked near a nurse's ear, she would think my words were her own thoughts. It happened totally by accident at first!”

“Hmm. It’s not quite the same as deleting memories.” I ran my fingers through my hair, not at all convinced his idea would work. “You didn't pull that trick on me, did you?”

“No! Unlike them, you can see me. There's no way I could.”

“That's not very reassuring.” I narrowed my eyes, still suspecting he might have done it.

“If I could pull that on you, don't you think I would have made you more compliant to my needs by now?” He flashed a mischievous grin.

“I wonder—” I squinted, thinking about our hug earlier.

I wondered what he meant by his needs. I felt blood rush to my cheeks, and a flood of impure thoughts took over my mind. Quickly, I changed the subject. “I have to go home.”

“Come. I know a shortcut to the next bus station.”

“You do?” That was odd. I lived here my entire life, and didn't know any.

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“Yes. I have to use the bus a lot.” He winked.

Several minutes later, we were at the bus station just in time to catch the next ride. I felt sadness expecting the same thing to happen as it did before—me getting on, and him staying—but instead, Zack boarded first. I hid a small inner smile, and followed.

The bus was almost empty, people scattered here and there. Zack was already sitting at the back, watching me stumble down the aisle as the bus rocked. I managed to reach him without disgracefully falling. I sat next to him, having a hard time hiding my surprise. He grinned widely, tucked my hair behind my ear, and lowered his mouth to my ear to whisper something.

“You said you’d hate me less if I were quiet on the bus,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling the side of my face.

My belly did some weird flip-flops at the sensation. He moved his head back, slightly grazing the tip of my ear with his mouth. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he did that on purpose. I glanced at him sideways, but his face remained expressionless. The rest of the ride we remained quiet. But I was aware of every inch of his body next to mine. Several road bumps made our arms touch. Yet some of those weren’t hard enough to cause that, and still it happened. I started harboring hope that I wasn’t alone in this fatal attraction.

My bus stop was in sight and it was time for me to get up. I turned to him and asked, “Where are you headed?”

“I have some things that require my attention. I’ll let you know how it went with the fat man.”

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“Thanks,” I said, getting up. The bus pulled over, and I got out. Our eyes locked one more time, and the bus drove off. I felt kind of empty. His presence did funny things to me. For the love of God, stop swooning over him. No good can come out of it. He's a ghost.

Y I had no trouble finding my friends at the beach. There was no way you could miss Helen's charming giggles. I had used it as a beacon many times before at parties. You just close your eyes, and follow the sound.

“What up, peeps?” I said, spreading my beach towel next to Maya. She was on her stomach, tanning her back.

“Lyra! You made it!” Helen smiled, pulling her shades down just enough to reveal her eyes.

“You won't believe how true that statement is.” Brad and Shawn were swimming, so I thought it would be best to tell them about my fat-man rendezvous while they were absent.

“What do you mean?” Maya asked, lowering her shades as well after propping herself up on her elbows.

“You remember the fat man from Mario's?” They both nodded. “He caught me on the bus station, and wanted his money back.”

“No way!” Helen shrieked.

“Yeah. He grabbed my purse, but Zack intervened, so I managed to escape.”

“Hold on. Rewind! Zack who?” Maya asked, and it hit me that I hadn't updated them on my ghost-stalker status.

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I’d been so preoccupied with work, and ever since they hooked up with the guys we were almost never alone, so I totally forgot.

“I'll fill you in before the guys get back,” I said, throwing a quick glance toward Brad and Shawn splashing in the sea. I told them how I found out my ghost wasn't a ghost at all, and finished with, “I think I'm falling for him hard.”

“Careful, Lyra.” Helen shot me a warning glare. “You know nothing about him. Sure, he went all knight-inshining-armor for you, but still…”

“I know, but I can't help it. It's the way he makes me feel. I’ve never felt like this about a guy.”

“I think it's cool,” Maya said, flipping to the other side, taking a bottle of suntan lotion from her bag.

“Drop it!” Helen countered. “What kind of relationship can she have with him?”

“Uncharted territory,” I said, feeling rather stupid.

Having a relationship with Zack had never crossed my mind.

At first, he was a ghost and I was scared. Then things changed. Now he was real, and I was too busy feeling, not thinking. I sighed, “It's not like I'm gonna do anything about it. I don't know if he feels the same, anyway. “ “I don't want to ruin your fun.” Helen gave me a sympathetic look. “But I don't want to see you hurt, either.”

“I know, Helen,” She was my biggest support when things with my ex went downhill, and she helped me get through it. Damien and I were together for what seemed like ages. It wasn't love, it was more of a habit. He was 76

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always sweet and polite, but when he wanted to take things a step further in our relationship, I was reluctant—I didn't really feel that way about him. One day, while making out, he took that step even as I begged him not to. He raped me.

Aside from Helen, I never told anyone about it. Foolishly I blamed myself for allowing it to happen. For not breaking things off when I should have. For not seeing him for who he truly was. As if rape wasn't enough, when I finally admitted to myself that no matter what I did and how I behaved, there were no excuses for rape, I found out that his rape had left me with a present. Chlamydia. Adulterous, rapist bastard! “You've always been there for me,” I patted Helen's shoulder remembering all those times I cried on it.

“Come on you two,” Maya said after applying a ton of lotion. “It's not like she's gonna marry him and have lots of babies. How many of our relationships end up being just a fling? Let the girl have some fun!”

Helen narrowed her eyes, ready to explode. “Okay, Miss Casual. When did you ever hear Lyra say she's falling for anyone, let alone hard? Huh?” “Guys, I'm right here. Don't talk about me like I'm not.”

My comment earned me two butt-out looks. “Or do. I don't care.”

“Never,” Maya replied to Helen's question. “That's why I say go for it!”

“Oh, sure. Let's triple date with them. All six of us at the movies, with one empty seat. Or better yet, let's have dinner. The chair will have ravioli!” During her theatrical, Helen's face turned beet red.

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“Stop it! I get it!” I wasn't gonna let this turn into a fight of epic proportions. “You both have great arguments, but it's my life, and I'll do as I see fit.”

“What's with the frowns?” Shawn asked, startling us.

All three of us forced a smile.

“Oh, nothing,” Helen replied, and handed him a fresh towel. “Girl stuff.”

After fifteen minutes of awkward silence, and Brad and Shawn's confused-look exchange, Helen turned to me, and said: “Let's go for a walk.” I nodded, and started getting up.

She said to the guys, “We're gonna get our feet wet. It's too hot. Be back soon.” She gave Shawn a light kiss and signaled for Maya to follow us.

With our heads lowered, we walked through shallow water without saying a word. I watched the crystal clear water caress my ankles until Helen said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make such a big deal out of it.”

“Don't worry about it, Helen,” I said, knowing she was worked up because of my past, not my present. “It's not like we have to agree on everything. Like I said, you both had good points, and I'm not sure what I'm gonna do about it. If there’s even anything to do something about.”

“I just want you to be happy. I didn’t want to sound so unsupportive.” Helen's eyes watered, and I hugged her, then pulled Maya into the hug.

“Life's not all roses. I'll be okay.”

“So, BFFs again?” Maya asked tentatively.

“Was that ever in question?” I replied, and we laughed, glad that our fight was behind us.

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Y I came home rather sunburned to an empty house. Mom had gone to pick up Dad at the airport. I was looking forward to seeing him and telling him all about my job.

Mom and I had agreed to keep it a secret until he came home. With some free time on my hands, I decided to take a bath, and apply some moisturizer to my poor skin. Those burns were bound to sting like hell tomorrow.

Relaxing in the tub, I thought about what Helen had said about Zack. Reason told me to listen to her; there was no way I could have a normal relationship with him.

Thinking it was possible would be plain crazy and would set me up for certain disappointment. But that place deep inside of me that usually made me feel out of place was now screaming to be heard. There was something about him that made me feel alive, that made me feel like I needed him. All my life, I felt as if the stork had dropped me off at the wrong place. Messed up delivery, I guess. But with Zack in the picture, I felt as if everything had fallen into place.

And yet, I couldn't have him. Annoyed, I threw a sponge at my feet. It landed with a loud splash.

For as long as I’d lived, I had to hide a piece of me from the world. All my past relationships, Damien aside, were okay—regular guys doing regular things—but there was always something missing. It was all too superficial, and I needed depth. That's why I had never been head-over-heels in love with someone. In my opinion, relationships don’t include secrets. To commit to someone else, I had to feel 79

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safe, be able to trust him completely, and allow myself to surrender all that I am. And it had to be the same for him.

That corny soul mate sort of thing. What was the point of having a relationship if I had to hide who I was for the rest of my life? One time, hearing me say that, my girlfriends said I needed to get my head out of the clouds, and look at life for what it was—anything but a fairytale. Men are from Mars, and women are from Venus, Helen would quote. I couldn’t settle for that. If things really were like that, I’d rather spend my life alone than with a Martian. Mom had her own opinion on the matter. She said the problem was that I dealt with boys, not men, and that things would change in time. I begged to differ. Looking at Dad and the other grown-up men I knew, all I could see were the same boys, just with more facial hair.

So what was it that I wanted? What set Venusian men apart from Martian men? And why did I feel Zack was different? I really knew nothing about him. Mom’s car pulling in our driveway ended my internal debate. I must have lost track of time and now had to hurry up. I dried myself, applied a thick layer of lotion, and impatiently tapped my foot against the tiles, waiting for the lotion to soak in. There was no time, so I put on an expendable Tshirt that foreseeably glued itself to my skin, and hurried down to see Dad. We exchanged hugs, with me suppressing painful moans as he put his arms over my burnt back. It was almost midnight when we finished talking about my job, sunburns, and Dad’s conference. Before I went to bed, Mom 80

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and Dad had agreed to stop for coffee at Mario’s before work in the morning so they could see me in action. That made me nervous, and I tried to talk them out of it. No luck.

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Chapter #6 he next morning, I woke up way before my alarm clock went off. My mind was too busy to sleep, trying to figure out what I feared more—my parents’ visit or the fat man. I hoped Zack would come and share some good news before I got to work, but he didn’t. I was extra careful exiting the bus. It was probably too early in the morning for a third attack by the fat man, but if Zack’s efforts had failed, I was in big trouble. A couple of glances around the block reassured me I was alone, so I entered Mario’s. None of the staff was there yet, so I decided to make some coffee for myself in hopes that it would steady my edgy nerves.

Sipping warm coffee, I tried to visualize my parents sitting at one of the tables, and me serving them. It shouldn’t be too hard. Sure, it was important for me to show how good I was at it, but if stage fright got the best of me, I was certain Mom and Dad would find it cute, not clumsy.

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At that moment, something crashed behind me, and I almost fainted from fear. I heard myself scream as if I were standing outside my body. Before I passed out, I caught a glimpse of Jake hopping on one foot, holding the other in both hands. The crashing must have been Jake’s bare foot hitting something, or the baseball bat still rolling on the floor.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said when I managed to get ahold of myself.

“Morning to you, too,” Jake growled. I tried to look somewhere else because he was wearing only briefs. I’d hate to see anything slip out of those. That image would surely be permanently burned in my brain. “What are you doing here this early? I thought someone had broken in.”

“That man from yesterday attacked me when I was going home, so I came in earlier to avoid running into him.”

That was the briefest explanation I could offer.

“Did he hurt you?”

I shook my head. “No. I managed to escape.”

“You should have come to me. I would have made him regret that decision!” Though I knew he meant it, his gravity-defying hair, bare feet, and briefs made it hard to take him seriously. Seeing him like that took the edge off his usual grim self.

“Thanks, Jake. If he tries it again, I will. Coffee?”

“No, thanks. I’m off to bed.” Jake rubbed his eyes, and went back upstairs. Just before he disappeared around the corner, to my disgust, he scratched his butt. If my day was going to be anything like my morning, I’d be lucky to live through it.

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The rest of the staff came in and our morning continued as usual. When my parents showed up, I was ready and calm. They said they were proud of me, quickly drank their coffee, and left for work. I wondered why I had been worried in the first place.

As the end of my shift neared, I became restless. Zack still hadn't showed up. I thought not calling the police might have been a mistake after all. Was I that dazzled by him that I believed he could perform wonders? To be on the safe side, when my friends rolled in I would ask Maya and Helen to give me a ride home.

A sudden influx of customers postponed my plan to arrange a ride, but when I had a chance to look up I saw Zack in front of Mario's. When our eyes locked, he nodded slowly and smiled. I took that to mean that my problem was solved. After that, he pointed at himself, then me, and then motioned behind him toward the bus station. I guessed he meant he would wait for me at the station. That stirred a couple of butterflies in my belly, obliterating my reason.

Oh, I was a goner.

I couldn't wait to get out of my apron and meet Zack. I was anxious to hear how he managed to make the fat man forget about me. Joining my friends at the table seemed like such a waste of time, but I had to do it or they would suspect something was wrong. As soon as I sat down, I said I had to go home early because of my dad. Five minutes seemed like forever, but if I didn’t keep my body language under control, Helen would catch on. I wasn't in the mood for another one of her lectures.

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Crossing the street, my heart quickened its pace and each step closer to Zack did funny things to my insides. The problem was—he wasn't alone. There were other people waiting for the bus. I stopped next to him and stared at the pavement.

“Do you have time for a walk?” He asked in a low voice.

I nodded. “Follow me.” Like an obedient puppy, that's what I did. Slightly further away, he said, “I think we're safe to talk now.”

I looked up at him, and those green eyes under a rich layer of lashes met mine. The world ceased to exist. I wasn't sure what day it was, or what I wanted to talk about. I just wanted to freeze the moment. As we strolled side-by-side, his little finger grazed the side of my palm, sending snakelike electric vibes through my arm.

“Did something else happen?” Zack widened his glance, and I shook my head. “You look,” he paused as if searching for an appropriate word, “confused.”

“No, I'm waiting to hear what happened with the fat man.” Quickly, I broke my trance.

“Oh, that. I spent the entire night next to his bed. That man can snore!” He chuckled.

“And it worked?”

“Yeah, it worked! I had to be sure it did, so I spent the morning with him, as well. It was hard to get him to speak about his day before. I can't read minds, you know,” he raised a brow.

“Crap! That actually hadn’t crossed my mind.” His task was a lot harder than I originally thought.

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“I made him believe it was Jake who served him, and that if he ever showed his face at Mario's again, Jake would rip him apart. I kept reminding him, and he argued out loud with Jake about it.”

“What if he remembers the truth?”

“I don't think he will. When I mentioned you, all he said was that he wished the new girl had served him instead of Jake.”

“Thank you.”

We reached the park, and I sat down on the bench. Zack sat next to me, spreading his arms over the back of the bench, and crossing his ankles. Every cell in my body was aware of his arm behind me, and his body inches away. He seemed oblivious, perfectly relaxed. I wished his arm would drop around me, but instead he tilted his head toward me.

“You are different today. I don't think it has anything to do with the fat man.” He looked at me inquisitively. “You're too quiet.”

“What? You miss my bitchiness?” I laughed to cover my tracks.

“Hell, no! But I watched you enough to know this is not your usual self.” A smug grin covered his face, sending all my blood into my cheeks.

“Okay, Mister Know-it-All. Why don’t you tell me what's wrong with me?” Tossing the ball to him seemed like the best option. I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him what was really on my mind.

“Hmm, I don't know. But I'll find out.” A playful boyish grin flashed across his face. He pulled his arms back and 86

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stood up. I thought it was time for me to step up and do something for him.

“What happened to the you-need-my-help story?”

“I still need it, but you made it clear you didn't want to.”

He tucked his hands in his back pockets.

“I do now. You helped me with the fat man—” “—That's not why I did it!” He clenched his teeth together.

“I know, and that's exactly why I changed my mind.

Tell me. What do you need me for?”

Zack sighed and sat back down. He dropped his elbows on his knees, and rested his head on his hands. “For a while, I've been trying to reach a person that might know something about my situation. I saw her medical file in a hospital, but couldn't get to her because she's out of my Lyra-radius.” He tilted his head toward me, and smiled.

“Lyra-radius?” I chuckled. “Is that what you call it, or is it a spur-of-the-moment name?”

Zack slouched back and crossed his arms behind his head. An overconfident smile tugged his lips upward. “No, that's what I call it. You're my sun, my life revolves around you. Literally. Did you forget that I cannot go further than a certain distance from you?” He smiled, but unlike the first time we spoke, he didn't seem to be annoyed by it.

Maybe I should have kept my thoughts to myself, but it was itching to get out, so I said, “You're less annoyed by it.”

He didn't respond, only his lips curled a bit, and then he continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “Would you be willing to go with me to see her?”

“It depends. Where is she?”

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“A psych ward about thirty miles away.”

“A crazy person? Really?”

“You of all people should know that what people think is crazy is not always really crazy. I mean, you're the one talking to an empty bench.” He pointed at himself.

“Ouch!” I pressed a palm over my heart. There I was, being stupid again. I wanted to fall into a hole and hide.

“When do we leave and how?” My voice slightly trembled, selling me out.

“I didn't mean to offend you,” Zack took my hand from my chest. I don't know what got into me, but I snatched it back, and jumped up.

“You didn't. You just said the truth.” Embarrassed, I felt the need to escape, so I turned my back on him, and distanced myself by taking a few steps away. “You didn't answer my question.” I reminded him while fiddling with some loose threads on my shirt. He didn't reply, but nothing could have made me turn around and face him.

A couple of moments later, he said, “Tomorrow,” right next to my ear. Instantly, I stiffened up. I didn’t hear him coming up behind me. His breath grazed the back of my head. Feeling him standing behind me, nothing but a thin layer of air separating us, my breathing sped up. He scooped my hair, and placed it over my left shoulder, leaving the right side of my neck bare. “After work,” he leaned forward, closer to my ear, completely annihilating that thin layer of air between us. I drew in a sharp breath, and held it. “If you have time, we could catch a bus and be home by ten.” His voice sounded so sweet and sultry.

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At that moment, hearing his ragged, heavy breathing, I would have said yes to anything. He had me. Completely.

But I was nothing if not a control freak, and I wasn't going to let myself be played like that. Defiantly, I turned around to face him, keeping a serious, I'm-not-affected-by-you expression. He lifted his gaze, breathing heavily through slightly parted lips. We stared into each other’s eyes, speechless. I wished I could read his expression clearly.

“Sure.”

“Sure, what?” Zack asked, his eyes not braking from mine, the black of his pupils sucking me in like a magnet.

“My answer to your question.”

“What ques—? Ah, that. Okay.” Quickly, he bowed his head, and went straight back to the bench. I narrowed my eyes, and tilted my head, smiling. Was he . . . ? Was this genuine? Could he be just as affected? I went to sit next to him, but as soon as I did, he jumped up, clumsily excused himself. Just like that he was gone. All by myself, I started laughing. There was no telling which one of us was the crazy one here. Him or me?

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Chapter #7 fter work, Zack was waiting for me in front of Mario's.

Since yesterday, the chemistry had changed. He seemed a lot more reserved, kept his distance, and maintained conversation on a basic level only. Even on the bus, he inclined his body toward the window, and stared outside the entire ride. I couldn't help but think that the way yesterday ended brought this on. The wicked side of me wanted to test my theory, so I moved my knee toward his. As if burnt, he quickly moved closer to the window. I turned my head toward the aisle to grin. Yep, he had issues with our close encounter. I guess I wasn't the only control freak on the bus.

The psych ward was an intimidating facility resembling one of those spooky horror movies. It was a monumental building with bars on every window. The walls were all covered in ivy, and the yard had wild, overgrown garden it.

Here and there, hidden in the grass, were remnants of oncegroomed but now neglected roses.

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Zack had influenced a nurse to arrange a visit for me, so I introduced myself at the desk. I pretended to be Sophie's friend. A large man dressed in white came to take me to see her. I prayed to God she wouldn't scream, or say that she didn't know me. Before we got on the bus, Zack assured me that if either scenario occurred all I needed to do was to act innocent and keep up my act. The staff thought she was crazy anyway, so they likely wouldn’t believe her. Sad, really.

Walking down those creepy corridors cemented my decision to never to reveal my secret to Mom and Dad. This could easily be my home if I did. A graveyard silence was penetrated by our echoing footsteps, adding to the creepiness. Several doors had scratches on them as if Freddy Krueger was the in-house decorator. We reached Sophie's room, so the guard stopped.

“Wait here, Miss.” He disappeared behind the door.

Several moments later, he came out saying, “You may enter. Don't worry, she's not dangerous.” I gulped, repeating the not-dangerous part in my mind.

Zack went in first and I followed. Sophie was sitting on her bed, running one fingernail under the others. She was a tiny young woman, about my age, and very thin. She had messy, chin-length, curly hair. An oversized sweatshirt had slipped down one shoulder, revealing a worn out grayish Tshirt with several holes.

“The guard didn't say there were two of you,” she said to my surprise, widening her big, blue eyes.

“You can see him?” I whispered, staring into her deep, blue eyes.

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Sophie snorted. “Shouldn't I be surprised that you can?”

She shifted her legs to form a lotus position. Black sweatpants revealed her pointy knees through several tears.

“My name is Zack. And this is Lyra.”

“Sophie.” She extended her hand to shake Zack's, and I reached over her bed to shake hers. “Lyra? What kind of name is that?” Her eyes rounded waiting for my answer.

“Constellation.” I sighed, pointing up, remembering all the times I had to say that. Thank you, Dad. “Oh, okay. Pretty. Why are you here?”

“I need your help.” Zack didn't beat around the bush. “I read your file, and I think you might know something that could shine some light on my situation.”

“I doubt that my records have what really happened to me.” She let out an annoyed snort.

“That's why we're here. Could you tell us what really happened?” Zack sat on her bed.

“Sure, why not?” She didn’t seem all that interested in our situation, but at least she was talking.

“Thanks.” Zack folded his hands in his lap.

“When I was six, we were on the road to my grandma's.

We stopped midway to stay in a hotel. There was a pool and I drowned.”

A gasp escaped my mouth, completely involuntarily.

Sophie looked at me, and then continued as if nothing had happened.

“They managed to rescue me, but I fell into a coma.

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the fact that we were going to my grandma's, so that's where I went. I hung out at grandma's until my memories returned. It was a slow process. Then I went back to the hospital and reintegrated with my body. After waking up from the coma, I was left with this wonderful gift of seeing others in the same situation.” With aggravated expression, Sophie motioned toward Zack. I swallowed a knot. “That's how I ended up here. Nobody believed me.” Zack opened his mouth to ask something, but I interjected.

“You said your soul went to your grandma's. But he is like me, material. Not a soul.”

“Contrary to common belief, a soul is just as real. I hate calling it a soul, though. It was me, really me, but I was not visible to others. It was like someone changed the station, but it got stuck in between stations, leaving a part of me in this channel while moving most of me to another channel.”

“How many people have you seen like me?” Zack’s voice sounded rather strained.

“Too many to keep track.” Sophie readjusted a pillow behind her back.

“You seemed rather certain that you went to your grandma's because that was the only thing you remembered. Is it the same for others you see?” Zack bit his lower lip waiting for her answer.

“Without exception. Your last memory is your destination.”

“But we’ve never met.” I said to Zack, shocked that I was his destination. Briefly, he looked at me, and then back at Sophie.

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“One more question.” Zack cleared his throat. “Could you leave your grandma’s house if you wanted to?”

“I don't know. I didn't try. I was six. A lot of things didn't cross my mind.”

“But have you heard from others about that problem?” I asked, anxiously staring at her big blue eyes.

“They didn't say,” she exhaled loudly. “You have to understand, I didn't want them around. Seeing them ruined my life.” She bowed her head, her golden locks following.

“The last visit I had before you was a teenage boy from my school. He didn't care what his presence did to me. He was so self-centered and angry about his situation. Once he realized I could see him, he made my life a living hell. He would come to my class, and scream into my ear the entire time.”

“I'm so sorry,” Zack put his hand on her pointy knee.

“So am I.” Oh boy, I've been lucky so far. “I know how you feel.” Our roles could have easily been reversed.

“At first, I was happy to be locked up in here. It was safe and far away from them,” Sophie got up from her bed, and strode toward the window, grabbing the bars with both hands. “But what was once a safe haven, is now a prison.”

She tugged on the bars.

I felt so sorry for her. If anyone could relate to her situation, it was me. Thank God that didn't happen to me.

Knowing how her situation ended up, I was determined to never acknowledge any ghost's presence ever again. I looked at Zack, and his eyes met mine. There was compassion in his gaze, and I was thankful he was 94

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considerate. He didn’t complicate my life although he could have.

“When did you start seeing them?” Sophie turned around, abruptly.

“I'm not sure. It's been like this my whole life.”

“Were you ever in a coma?” She strode back to her bed.

“Not that I know of.” As I said that, I turned to Zack. He was quiet. Learning he was somewhere in a coma must have been hard on him, so I asked Sophie, “Are you sure it’s connected with being in a coma? Could something else be involved?”

“I can't rule out other possibilities, but in my experience it is always linked to a coma.”

Zack suddenly stood up, and said to Sophie, “Is there anything we can do to help you?”

“No one can help me.” Sophie lowered her gaze, and twirled her thumbs in her lap.

“Arrange an appointment with your doctor. I'll come, and we'll show your doctor that it's real.” There as a strong determination in Zack’s voice.

“Why do you think she'll listen?” Sophie snorted, but her face showed a hint of hope. “I've been telling her for years that it was all true.”

“Trust me. I have an idea,” Zack's gaze was distant.

I remembered him telling me the same several days ago, and he came through then. I felt compelled to support him on this. “Sophie, what have you got to lose? Let us try.”

“Okay,” she said, reluctantly. “What's the worst that can happen, right?” She let out a slightly hysterical giggle.

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“Don't tell her why you're asking for it,” Zack said. “Just set an appointment in the afternoon. We'll come by tomorrow the same time as today and then I’ll explain the details.”

Sophie smiled, and nodded. Zack turned to me and said, “Let's go!”

I hugged her goodbye, and my eyes teared up. I felt as if I was hugging an alternative version of me. “I'm glad we met.”

“Likewise,” she said with a faint smile, and we parted. I saw her lashes sweet away a tear.

Y Zack didn’t say a word until we got on the bus. I tried to start a conversation a couple of times before the bus arrived, but he motioned for me to stay quiet. After my last attempt, he said to wait for the bus, and that it wasn't wise to appear to be talking to myself while still near that dreadful facility.

On the bus, several people were sitting up front, so we went to sit at the back where our conversation wouldn't be overheard.

“We have to help her,” he said as soon as we sat down.

So far, I hadn’t seen him so driven.

“I agree. Poor girl. What do you plan to do with her doctor?”

“She's in there because no one believes her. If I can get her doctor to believe that I'm real, she might have a chance to get out.” ”I get that, but how are you going to prove your existence?”

“A set of tests.” Zack smiled, and twisted his fingers.

Something sparkled in his eyes.

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“What kind of tests?”

“Sophie is locked up, so she cannot possibly know what's going on outside her room,” he paused.

“Go on.”

“I'll ask the doctor to go to her office and write something on a piece of paper. When she comes back to Sophie, I'll recite what I read. Sophie will repeat it for me and I'll give Sophie the paper to hand over to her doc.”

“Oh, that's brilliant!” Taking the paper from the office would be a great punch line. Copperfield-worthy. “But what if her doc isn't willing to try that in the first place?”

“That's easy. I'll convince her doc to give Sophie a chance by whispering into her ear that Sophie deserves it.”

“Like you did with the nurses?”

“Exactly like that.”

“What if she sees a floating paper and freaks out?” My mom would, I thought.

“Do you ever see floating stuff when I’m around?” Zack didn't wait for me to answer. “As soon as I take something, it becomes invisible in this realm. That's why I have to give it to Sophie to hand over to the doctor. She'll be like a bridge between the realms.”

“How do you know that? You can't see what this realm sees.”

“I learned the hard way.” He started meddling with the hem of his shirt. “Just like anyone else, I have to eat. It's not like I can go to a store, and buy what I need. For the first couple of days, I was starving. Finally I went to a grocery store, and tried to steal an apple. It goes against 97

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everything I believe in, but the pain was excruciating, and I decided one apple wouldn't hurt.”

“I would have done the same, but that doesn't answer my question.” I wondered why he looked embarrassed about stealing. Who wouldn't have done it?

“I didn't get to that part, yet,” he threw a bland look my way. “The woman that worked there had just arranged apples into a pyramid. She turned her back, and I grabbed the apple from the top. She turned back around at that moment. I froze in place, unable to move, holding an apple flat in my hand. She looked at the top, noticed a missing apple, and didn't see I was holding it in my hand. Just like you, I thought she would see a floating apple, but instead she was confused. She looked all around the floor for it.”

“Oh, okay then.” I wondered what would happen if someone less moral was in his place? Could someone rob a bank, and get away with it? I felt uneasy as I thought about Sophie's high-school ghost. He would be the kind of person that might cause. But Zack seemed to read my mind.

“There is one problem, though.” He looked up at me, his eyes rounded. “It seems all of the realms are under some form of intelligent design. If Sophie is not supposed to get out of there, I won't be able to take the paper.”

“What?! But you made her think it was a done deal. How could you do that, Zack? That's false hope. That's playing with her emotions.” I was furious. Putting myself in her shoes was easy, and I wanted to punch him for being so insensitive.

“Calm down, Lyra. Here me out, okay?” The certainty in his voice made me nod, but I still felt the urge to smack him.

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He continued, “The fact that we were led to her must mean something. We would have never met her if it wasn't meant to be.”

“That's hardly evidence! You're acting on a hunch, damn it!” I clenched my fist, imagining it clashing against his shoulder.

“I was allowed to help you with the fat man, wasn't I?” His eyes grew stern as he stared at me, waiting for me to acknowledge that fact.

“True, but that doesn't mean you were sent here to rescue every damsel in distress!” Zack started laughing, which made me even madder at him. “It's not funny, Zack!

Do you know how she'll feel if this doesn't work?”

“I do,” he said. His face turned serious again but I wasn’t sure he really understood.

“No you don't! If you fail, that will seal her fate forever!

She'll be marked as undeniably crazy!”

“I couldn't live with myself knowing I did nothing, when there's a chance she could be rescued.” Sadness colored his voice. He lowered his glance.

“Neither could I, but we could have told her the odds,” I said, less irritably.

“She wouldn't have agreed to do this.”

“You can't know that!” I glared at him.

“Would you have agreed not to call the police about the fat man if you had known this?” He returned the glare.

I wasn't sure what I would have done but I wasn’t going to acknowledge that. “Nevermind. What's done is done.” I turned my head sharply toward the aisle.

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He must have trailed off into his thoughts, because after quite a while, he said out of the blue, “Imagine if it were you in there.” A hint of vulnerability showed in his eyes.

“Oh, believe me, I have. I've been walking on thin ice this whole time.”

“Promise me—” He adjusted in his seat to face me, and took my both hands in his. “Promise me you'll never get yourself into that situation.”

I couldn't look away from my hands in his, but I managed to mutter, “I promise.”

“Look at me.” He nudged my hands and I looked up, losing myself in his concerned gaze. All of my earlier anger had left me. Just like that! “No matter what happens, promise me you'll deny seeing anything but your normal world.”

“I promise. Don't worry about me, Zack. I managed to get this far, didn't I?” I put up a self-assured smile.

“That was sheer luck!”

“Stop it!” I said that a little too loud and several people turned around. I pretended to be on the phone, then said slightly quieter, “Don't get all parental on me now.”

Hearing me say that, Zack let go of my hands, and averted his gaze out the window. Immediately, I regretted my reaction. Several minutes passed in awkward silence before I decided to apologize. “I'm sorry I snapped at you.”

“Don't mention it,” he said, still looking out the window.

“I overstepped my boundary, not you.”

“What boundary?”

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“I don't have a say in your life, and I'm sorry for being so possessive.” Seeing sadness behind those eyes made my gut clench. Sadness I had caused.

“You do have a say. We're in this mess together.” I smiled and took his hand in mine. Warmth spread over me and our gazes locked. His eyes widened and lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but then he changed his mind and looked down at our hands. He gently caressed my hand with his thumb, causing ripples of unfamiliar feelings throughout my body. Instinctively, I closed my eyes. When I opened them, he was staring at me, bewildered. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but he seemed a lot closer than he was when I closed them.

Slowly, I pulled my hand back. “Zack?” He didn't reply, but his gaze was still fixed on me as if he were frozen in time. “Can I ask you a personal question?” He cleared his throat, blinked a couple of times, and then nodded. “Where do you sleep?” I didn't know why, but that question made him laugh hard like that night on my bed. “What?” I asked, but he continued laughing. “What's so funny?”

“I'll never be able to figure out how your mind works.”

“Look who's talking. What's going on in there?” I pointed at his head. “You're laughing at a perfectly normal question.”

“I sleep in a hotel,” he said, still smiling. “Anything else?”

“Where do you eat? You're not still hungry, are you?” A thought of him being hungry made my stomach turn into a knot.

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“I'm not. I go down to the hotel's kitchen after everyone goes to sleep.”

“But no-one can see if you take something. Why wait till they go to sleep?” His realm was confusing me.

“That's the thing. There are rules here. I'm not allowed to do anything that might disrupt your realm's normal functioning.” Upon hearing him say that, I was even more worried about Sophie. “Hotels, restaurants, grocery stores— they're all busy places with a particular order of doing things. My actions would affect too many people, so I'm not allowed to meddle.”

“And the psych ward?” Returning focus to Sophie made Zack frown. He seemed reluctant to talk about it. We still hadn't touched the subject of him being in a coma, and somehow I felt I needed to give him time to come to terms with it before asking any questions.

“Fewer people are involved,” he said after a minute.

“What we do there will affect Sophie and her doctor. Possibly her parents. Nobody else. That’s why it might work.”

My bus stop was up next. We agreed to meet tomorrow and that ended our conversation. I stepped outside and walked past the bus. Through the window, Zack's eyes locked onto mine with a quizzical expression. Just as the bus started moving, and Zack's face disappeared from my view, I saw him put his palm against the window.

Y I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned most of the night.

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be considerate. Trying not to ask Zack about what bothered me the most. How did I end up in his thoughts? There must be some logical explanation for it. He had built a wall around him since that day in the park, and after learning about the coma stuff, he seemed to have put up additional reinforcements. Unlike patience, determination definitely was one of my better sides, and getting through that wall had just climbed up to the top of my priority list. If he thinks he can hide behind it, he has another thing coming.

The thought eased some of my anxiety, and allowed sleep to finally take over.

Y Morning came too soon and brought with it no relief. I woke up in a sweat-pond, shaking off the remains of a nightmare.

I couldn't remember what it was about, but the feeling of hopelessness and despair remained. A shower was inevitable, and I was already late, so I decided to skip breakfast and hurry to catch the bus.

Murphy's law was a bitch. As if running late wasn't bad enough, a traffic jam ahead of my bus had to be one of the worst I'd seen in a while. Impatient drivers were honking, flipping fingers out their windows, and the people on the bus became more restless by the minute. A man came to our bus driver's window, and said something to him that prompted the driver to turn off the engine.

He stood up and told us, “There's a pretty bad accident.

We'll be stuck here for a while.� Then he opened all doors.

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including me, and decided to walk the rest of the way. At least now I had an excuse for being late, but I doubted that would matter to angry customers at Mario's. I urged my feet to go faster, ignoring the burning pain in my thighs. As I was nearing the scene of the accident, it was harder to push through the crowd. Many people wanted to take a closer look at what happened. I couldn't care less to learn the details of the tragic event, let alone to take pictures like many other people were doing. All I could think of was getting to work, and not running into any new coma patients.

As I moved through the crowd, I came to a standstill. I couldn't push through, so I said to a gentleman in front, “Excuse me, sir.” At that moment, a woman next to him moved, revealing the rest of the man. The rest of his huge body. My heart stopped.

The fat man from Mario's turned toward me, glaring. I almost pissed myself. I thought of what Zack had said about the realms being under intelligent control. Bullshit! Face to face with my attacker, my day couldn't have been crappier.

What intelligence would do that to me?!

“Do you think I'm enjoying myself here?!” The fat man growled.

“N-no, sir. I'm sorry.” I turned to try another way, far away from him, but he pulled my arm, jerking me back. I was expecting my life to flash in front of my eyes at any moment, because I was surely dead after that.

“I know you,” he said, fueling the primordial fear in my gut. “You're the new girl at Mario's.” I nodded. That was it!

He knew who I was. I hoped it wouldn't hurt to bad. He 104

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pulled my arm even harder, and I found my body sandwiched between his enormous belly and other people's backs. My shoulder sent a few stabbing pains to my brain, and I said goodbye to my right arm. His belly squeezed the last breath of air from my lungs, and I felt dizzy. Through tearing eyes, I sent a few pleading looks toward the people around us, but no one paid attention. He jerked my arm one more time, and I was propelled down into the crowd. My weak body came crashing against several people who instinctively pushed me off and I landed on my knees.

Quickly I stood up, and glanced at the fat man. He wasn't looking my way, and I started laughing. Laughing at myself. Zack was right. He didn't remember me correctly.

There I was, afraid my life was over, and he was only pulling me past him.

Adrenaline pumped through me, easing the pain in my shoulder and knees. As if I had been given a second chance in life, I started running and reached Mario's in a blink of an eye. For the rest of my shift, I couldn't wait to see Zack and tell him how well his coercion had really worked. I started harboring a new hope for Sophie. There might be some intelligence behind all of this after all.

Y Zack came by earlier than normal and waited for me in front of Mario's. I couldn't stop looking at the clock, and the more I looked, the slower it moved. Even worse was the fact that I couldn't stop looking at Zack. I kept wondering how it would be if he woke up from his coma and came back 105

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normal, like me. Pleasant chills rushed through my body.

My breathing hitched at the possibility. That would make Helen eat her humble pie; a relationship would be possible.

I had to help him find his body.

Empowered by my latest conclusions, I went out to meet Zack. Wearing an all-around-my-head grin, I started toward him.

Zack inclined his head, and curved his lips into a smile.

“Aren't you in a good mood?”

“I am.” I confirmed, rocking back on my heels.

“What has changed since last night?” Zack crossed his arms, squinting, shifting his weight on one leg.

“I'm not telling!” I darted my head side-to-side and started walking toward the bus station to Sophie’s hospital.

“Oh, come on. I tell you everything.” Zack quickened his pace to catch up with me.

“You do?” I stopped in my tracks. If he did, I wasn't aware of it.

“Yeah.” He stopped, as well, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops. “Why are you so surprised?” His lips curled, his eyes studying me carefully.

“I'm not. It’s just that I know so little about you; I didn't realize that was all there is to know.” As I said that, his eyes widened, and mouth dropped open.

“Ouch. That stung.” He took a step back, and grabbed his chest as if he were run through the heart by an arrow.

“You sure do know how to boost my self-esteem.”

“That part of you really doesn't need boosting.”

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remembering his first attempt to talk to me. Zack grinned mischievously, as if he had reminiscence of his own that amused him. We continued walking.

“So? What happened?” Zack's curious look was the cutest one to date. He seemed playful and relaxed today.

Quite theatrically I repeated what had happened with the fat man. His eyes reacted to every word—one moment showing fear, another revealing worry, and lastly, relief.

His whole body stiffened up at the parts where the fat man pulled my arm causing me pain. I expected him to be happy that his influence had worked, but instead his mood changed to grim.

“Zack, what's wrong? Your plan worked, didn't it?”

“A bitter victory!” He lifted up my sleeve to inspect my shoulder. “Does it hurt?” He looked at me without blinking.

“No,” I said, having trouble staying serious. Zack pressed his teeth hard, rage gushing from his nostrils, eyes flaring. “Zack?”

“What?” His expression remained unchanged.

“I'm okay. He didn't hurt me. He was helping me get through.” I took his hand in mine to calm him down, but this time he was too worked up to notice.

He pulled it out, and hovered toward the curb, turning his back on me, and saying, “I'd rip out both of his arms for hurting you!”

“Quit that alpha-male bull,” I snarled at him. He turned around looking like a wounded animal. “It's not attractive,” I added. He stared at me, bemused. “I appreciate your concern, but acting irrational will hardly get us anywhere.”

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“I'm not being irrational.” He hovered back to me, grabbing my forearms with both hands. Those beautiful eyes sparkled. “I swear, if something—” “—stop it! Before you say something you might regret.”

I cut him off, and lowered my head to avoid further eye contact. I wasn't ready to hear whatever was about to be said. Powerful emotions such as anger compel people to say things that they wish they could take back later. Control freaks such as myself knew that all too well.

“Regret?!” He let out an annoyed snort, and released my arms. A couple of people came to the bus station, leaving us in silent agony. For ten more minutes we stood next to one another, silently staring in separate directions. After what felt like an eternity, the bus rolled in.

Boarding the bus, I smiled to myself. It was absolutely full! No conversation till we get out. Zack seemed annoyed by it, grimacing and jerking a zipper on his shirt pocket up and down, but I saw things in a different light. I was grateful to whoever was the Grand Architect in this realm for making it impossible for Zack to say what he wanted. If he cared for me as much as I cared for him, I wanted to hear it when he was normal, not boiling with rage. Besides, I had to be sure it was care and not the possessiveness of an alpha male.

I sat down next to an older lady and Zack had to sit next to a guy in a hoodie with headphones in. The aisle separating us felt as if it were an abyss separating our worlds. From the moment we sat down, Zack fixed his gaze on me, and watched me like he did in the beginning. A 108

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calm, steady, expressionless statue with God-given beauty and a penetrating glance. It made me nervous. I fixed my gaze on a bald man's head a few seats up, entertaining myself by tracing the last remains of his hair combed across his scalp. I could feel Zack's piercing eyes on me, watching without blinking.

Uncomfortable in my seat, I crossed my legs, and placed my hands in my lap, palms down. I moved my gaze from bald man's head to my hands. My thick hair dropped over my shoulder, shielding my face from Zack. I put my hands on my upper thigh. Under his intense gaze, nothing felt right, so I shifted in my seat again. This time I flipped my palms up, bringing my hands closer to my belly. I traced the life line on my palm from the index finger, around the thumb, and down to the point where it oddly split in two.

Zack's heavy sigh jerked me back into the moment. I uncrossed my legs and then looked at him.

His eyes latched onto mine, immediately imprisoning me. My heart skipped a few beats, and I chewed on my lower lip from the inside, defiantly holding my gaze. His gaze was soft, and held mine as if an invisible tractor beam connected us. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. He didn't blink, and I wasn't even sure he was breathing.

There was so much going on in that calm look of his, as if he were transmitting all that he wanted to say to me, but couldn't. I wished I knew what I was, but I lacked the skills to decipher it. His lips parted, and his gaze shifted to my brows, then traced the outline of my face, stopping on my lips. My breathing sped up, and I bit my lower lip. He 109

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returned his gaze back to my eyes, and swallowed hard. His lips parted. I felt blood rush to my cheeks, but my eyes were glued to his, and I couldn't detach. He stripped me of my self-control completely.

The guy next to him readjusted in his seat, resting his back against the window, facing me with a grin. I flinched, and returned my gaze back to hands in my lap. My cheeks were burning, and I heard Zack's silent chuckle. The rest of the ride I didn't dare to look up. The last thing I needed was the wrong guy thinking I was interested in him.

Y Although it was hot outside, the air in front of the psych ward’s main entrance was chilly. It was on the north side of the monumental building, shielded from the sun all year round, making it at least ten degrees colder than everywhere else. Grotesque gargoyles were covered in green from the moss, with dark gray patches where the water ran out. I shuddered at the thought of spending my life in there.

“Are you cold?” Zack asked, wrongly interpreting my shiver.

“No, I'm fine.”

He let out a long sigh, and cracked his knuckles. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

“Good luck.” I sent an encouraging smile his way. Zack's face lost all of its usual smugness. He seemed worried, and that made me even more concerned about the outcome.

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me, “Please, don't take this the wrong way.” He shuffled his feet, keeping gaze bowed.

“Take what the wrong way?”

“I don't want you to come inside,” he said. I didn't respond, unsure of what he thought I might be offended by.

“I don't want you near, or tied to this in any way.”

“I wasn't planning on coming in.”

“Wait for me at the bus stop.” His stare demanded my nod, which I gave. “Okay,” he said, and turned around. But instead of leaving, he hesitated for a moment. He drew in one large breath that filled his chest completely, held that breath for as long as he could, and then slowly let it out.

I watched his silhouette enter the building, then went back to the bus station. As soon as I came around the corner, I soaked up some sun to chase away the chill that penetrated all the way to my bones. I guess that's how reptiles must feel after a long winter.

The street sign was all that comprised the bus stop, so I sat on one of the larger rocks scattered nearby. I was glad that it was midday, and not much-colder night, but five minutes later my head started burning from the sun's intensity. I had to find some shade. There were no houses as far as I could see, and going back to the north side of the psych ward wasn't an option. Only the road, and narrow bushes surrounded me. Traffic wasn't heavy, either. A little bit further down the road was a lonesome tree, and I decided to seek cover in its faint shadow. It was better than frying like an egg on a rock.

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wandered off to Zack and Sophie. Who knew what was going on in there. At least I knew her doctor must have agreed to try, or Zack would have been back already. I pulled my legs closer, hugged my knees, and twisted my fingers to lock that position. Sitting on nothing but dirt was uncomfortable and I was thirsty. After working all morning, I was exhausted. The combination of heat and silence made me drowsy, so I dropped my head onto my knees. The air was dry and hot, scorching my lungs.

I must have dozed off, because somewhere in the back of my mind I heard someone desperately calling me. I raised my eyes, but the sun blinded me. After blinking for a moment my eyes slowly adjusted to the light. Suddenly I became aware that the cries were real. With his voice breaking from screaming, Zack was frantically calling my name. I stood up and saw him in the distance, running in circles, nearly hysterical. I waved, but he didn't see me. He dropped to the ground, and shoved his head between his knees, clasping his hands over the head. I called out, but he didn't hear me.

“Zack!” I called out again when I was nearer. He jolted, and shot up, running toward me. Man, he could run!

“Lyra! You okay?” He muttered, bending over, putting hands on his knees, trying to catch a breath.

“Yeah. I was over there behind a tree.”

Still bent over, gasping for air, he looked up. “Didn't you hear me calling you?” His eyes were worried, and face was red from running.

“No. I must have fallen asleep.” I dropped my head, and drew an imaginary circle with my foot on the ground.

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Zack chuckled, and straightened up. “Thank God. You can't imagine what went through my head.”

“I'm sorry. I was so tired and—” He cut my apology by putting a finger over my mouth. My heart fluttered. The touch of his finger against my lips had me quivering inside.

His gaze softened. “Nevermind,” he said, tucking both hands in his pockets. “You're okay,” his smile widened.

“And Sophie?”

“I'll tell you on the way.” He pointed at the bus approaching.

“But that's the wrong bus.” He must have lost his mind.

That one isn't going in our direction.

“No, we have to go to the doctor's house.” Zack winked.

My jaw dropped and I was speechless. The bus was getting close, so Zack grabbed my hand, and pulled me across the street. At the last minute, the bus driver spotted me, and stopped several feet away, so we ran forward to board.

“Thank you,” I said to the bus driver upon entering, and he nodded, closing the door behind me. Zack was already sitting at the back, wearing his usual grin, and patting the seat next to him for me to sit.

“Spill it,” I said, sitting down.

“Everything went like I told you it would, but . . . ” he paused. His eyes were smiling, so I knew whatever he was about to say couldn't be all that bad.

“But what?”

“The doctor has a test of her own.”

“What’s the test?”

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sure, she wants me to go to the study in her house and bring her the fifth book on the second shelf from the top, counting from left to right.”

“And she'll let Sophie out?” I lifted my brows expecting a confirmation.

“Not so fast,” Zack narrowed his eyes.

“She won't?” My mouth dropped instantly.

“She said that, if I bring her the right book, she will let her out. But Sophie will have to deny seeing anything out of the ordinary, and act healed.” Zack's expression showed he was clearly worried.

“That's great! Why don't you look happy?”

“Sophie doesn't want to lie.”

“She has to! Did you tell her that?”

“Of course I did. And her doctor told her there was no other way; that people aren't ready to accept this kind of thing. They would deny any proof just to keep their beliefs uncompromised.” He let out a long sigh.

“And?” “And Sophie said she'll think about it.”

“I can't believe it! So we're going to get the book, and Sophie might still say no?”

Zack nodded, “I guess so.”

Both of us were quiet for a few minutes. I thought about her position. I understood why she didn’t want to lie, but sometimes it’s really for the best. I never told anyone about my own ghost problem for just this reason. Holding on to her principles might cause her more loss than gain. Zack started laughing. I looked at him, confused.

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“I didn't tell you.” He smacked his forehead.

“Tell me what?”

“Sophie's doctor has a state-of-the-art security system in her house.” He paused, and I shook my head in disbelief.

“How are you gonna get in? You said you have to use the door like us.”

“That's the funny part. She gave Sophie the key, and Sophie gave it to me.”

“I don't see how that’s the funny part.”

He pulled out a card. “This is the key. It's a microchip!”

“Still not funny.”

“Can't you see?” He looked at me expectantly. I shook my head. “It's a brilliant idea. Undeniable proof that Sophie isn't lying!”

“True. But not funny.”

“It is funny if you look at it from a normal person's perspective. We're all crazy as hell! Passing things from person to person, one realm to another, materializing from thin air. It's nuts!”

I couldn't find any amusement in it, but I was glad he was getting a kick out of it.

Y The doctor's house was a big mansion, encompassed by walls several feet high and a thick iron fence. Within the walls was a luxurious, carefully groomed garden. Psychiatry must pay well. Zack went over the wall—the key was for the mansion only—and I was left outside, peeking in through the fence. This key stunt made me feel uneasy about the 115

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whole experiment. She could have given him the key to the fence as well. Why give one key and not the other? That was too ridiculous for my taste.

Luckily, Zack was invisible to others, so no one saw him climb that high wall using tree branches and ivy. While he was struggling to get across, I prayed he wouldn't fall. Any of those branches could have easily snapped, and a broken leg would be the end of him. I doubted we could find a surgeon that was also in a coma to help him.

Zack reached the front door. I held my breath as he was putting in the key. In that split second, it has crossed my mind that it could have been a trick. He could have been set up. My ears started buzzing and my heart was pounding. I gripped the fence so tightly my fingers turned pale. Huge wooden doors opened, and Zack flashed me a smile. What a relief. I broke out into a cold sweat. Plastered to the fence, I had to force myself away from it. The last thing we needed was the neighbors calling the police about my suspicious activity.

The next ten minutes were the longest in my life. Like a beast in a cage, I paced back and forth in front of the mansion. Although everything had gone well so far, I still worried that Sophie's doctor was playing us. Having a doctor and a nurse for parents made me privy to their way of thinking—rational and down to Earth. Hanging around a hospital when I was little was the reason why I never revealed my secret. Everybody knew whose daughter I was, so no one ever paid attention to the little kid hanging around the hospital halls, watching them. At that young age, my whole perspective on things changed. Seeing them 116

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reassuring patients everything was going to be okay, and then seeing those same patients get worse or die had a huge impact on my life. I couldn't trust adults anymore. Oh, why did I let Zack do this? Of course her doc would act as if she believed Sophie, that's what doctors do!

A loud thud startled me. Zack had jumped off the wall, grinning wide, holding a copy of a Bible in his hand. Two long seconds had passed between us, and then we broke out laughing.

“I love this woman.” Zack squeezed out, still laughing.

“A Bible?” I stepped closer, and Zack handed it to me. I took the thick, black copy in my hand, and turned it over.

“Why the Bible?”

He shrugged. “Open it,” Zack tucked his hands in back pockets.

Cautiously, I opened the book. It must have been very old; the pages were yellowed and chipped. There was an inscription written in black ink. It read: “May the Lord have mercy on your soul. Psychiatry is the path of the Devil. It's not too late to embrace Christ!”

I looked at Zack, eyes wide open, smirk trying to break free.

“The woman has spirit! You’ve got to give her that.”

“Uh-huh. And a twisted sense of humor.” I felt a bit guilty for doubting her. She obviously had some issues of her own. At least the Bible implied so. I wondered who had written the inscription. Undoubtedly, someone who didn't approve of her line of work, someone very religious, and possibly close to her. A family member?

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“Let's get going.” Zack took the book back, and we went to the bus.

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Chapter #8 t was long past sunset when we reached the hospital. I wished I could go in with Zack, but it wouldn't be wise to do so. It might compromise the whole thing. Someone might think Sophie hired me to pull this prank on her doctor. No, I had to stay away one last time.

Zack tucked the Bible in his back pocket, and put his hands on my shoulders. Drawing one deep breath, he looked straight into my eyes. “Lyra.”

As if hypnotized, I barely got out an “Mmhmm?”

“Stay close,” those wide green eyes were swept a couple of times with thick lashes, begging for my confirmation.

I smiled. “Sure.”

“I should be back soon. Don't make me go through that agony again.”

“I won't. Now get going or I'll freeze to death.” I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to stress the point.

I

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Zack smirked, and hesitated as if he considered something. “I guess I could give you my shirt, but I don't think I could explain to Sophie why I came back halfnaked.” The thought of him half-naked woke my butterflies up from their nap.

“Go.” I urged him with a slight push with my palms against his chest. When my hands connected to that warm, chiseled statue, his eyes lit up and a mischievous grin filled his face. He disappeared into the darkness, leaving my hands pushing nothing but air.

Y A half hour later Zack was back. Success was written all over him. Swaggering, he flashed two thumbs up, and grinned ear-to-ear. I jiggled in place from excitement.

“We did it!” Without stopping, he draped his arm over my shoulders, and we continued walking. I couldn't even express my shock at this gesture. He did it so nonchalantly, as if it were our everyday thing. I swallowed hard, telling my butterflies to stop flapping their wings or I'd faint. “It was amazing. Oh, I wish you could have been there.”

“So do I,” I said, still overwhelmed by his arm over me.

“I gave Sophie the book, and she handed it to her doctor.” He stopped walking, and pulled his arm off for reenactment purposes. “Sophie's hand was like this.” He bent his knees as if he were sitting, and extended one hand.

“The doctor's mouth dropped, and her face turned white.

She didn't take the book right away. She was in shock! I guess she didn't quite believe the first test. Sophie was still 120

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holding it out to her, and cleared her throat to get her attention.”

“So Sophie is free to go?” I cut in, impatient to get to that part.

Zack brows knit together. “Curiosity will get the best of you. Anyway, she finally took the book from Sophie, and opened it to look at the inscription. A second later, she started laughing like a demented person. Sophie and I didn't know what to do.”

“Did you tell Sophie what was written?”

“After that, I did. The doctor finally stopped laughing, and muttered something about her dad eating his words. I guess her Dad must have written that text in the Bible.

And then she finally said Sophie was free to go in the morning if she wanted to.”

“Does she want to?” I asked, cautiously, fearing the worst.

“Yeah!” Zack put up his hand for a high-five, and I smacked his palm really hard. “That was uncalled for.” He faked a frown.

“What? I was stressing out, and you kept me in the dark. You could have said that first.”

“It was implied. I said we won, didn't I?” He pulled up a smug grin.

“So Sophie agreed to lie?”

“Yes, they are falsifying her sessions as we speak. Her parents will pick her up tomorrow.”

“I didn't say goodbye to her.” We weren't exactly friends, but we shared a secret that connected us more than 121

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years of normal friendship ever could. Zack started smiling again. “What? Spill it out or I'll drag it out of you!”

“Feisty!” I approached him, threatening, but he said, “You didn't have to say goodbye. She'll come by Mario's tomorrow!”

“What? Come again?!” I couldn't believe my ears. A silly grin took over my face. Zack nodded, also grinning.

“Let's go,” he motioned toward the incoming bus.

All the way to the back of the bus, I couldn't stop grinning. This was the best day ever. We had saved an innocent girl—a version of me—and she was coming by tomorrow. Well, Zack saved her; but I was a part of it. I dropped on the seat next to Zack with a loud sigh. I had a chance to have a friend that was a freak just like me.

He tapped my knee, saying, “Feels great, doesn't it?”

True happiness radiated from him, but now that Sophie was okay, reality kicked my butt. He was in a coma somewhere, and we had to talk about it. My grin was gone in a split second. “What's wrong?” Worry deepened his voice.

“Zack?”

“Yes.” “You're in a coma,” I said, as if that was my last breath.

His smile turned into a frown.

“I know.”

“We have to find your body. You could—” “—die! I know!” He said, gruffly. Panic swept over me.

“That's not what I wanted to say.” And it wasn't. I hadn't considered that option at all. My gut clenched, and tightness gripped my chest.

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“But it's true.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt between his fingers.

“Did any of your memories return?” My throat tightened.

The thought of him dying was unbearable. I couldn’t allow myself to go there, to touch that painful place.

“Nothing usable.” He dropped the hem, immediately tilting his body toward the window, and committing his attention to staring out into the night.

“Zack, look at me.” I touched his hand. When he faced me, his eyes were gleaming from moisture. My heart sank.

Pain in those beautiful eyes was something I never wanted to see. “We have to try. You can't give up.” My voice cracked.

“I'm not giving up, Lyra. But what can I do? I’ve tried everything I could think of.”

“I don't know. Meditation or some memory-boosting techniques. Anything we can think of.” Suddenly, I was aware that losing him would be losing a part of me as well.

It wasn't just like I would be losing some incredibly hot guy that may or may not be interested in me. It was so much more. There was never going to be another Zack. With him, I felt complete. Regardless of what he felt about me, in this short period of time, he had become my everything. There would never be another man that could top that. At that moment, I knew. I was undeniably in love with him, and desperately needed him to exist. At least as a friend.

“Okay,” Zack replied, indifferently.

“If you don't have any plans,” I said, “come with me now, and we'll Google some stuff. Mom's working night, and Dad’s on call.”

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Zack nodded, and returned to gazing out the window.

The rest of the ride was a silent agony.

Y All the way from the bus station to my front door I kept glancing at the silent statue walking beside me. He didn't seem to be aware of my anxiety; he seemed rather preoccupied with his own thoughts. He frowned occasionally as if he were having an internal debate. I wondered how I got from being aggravated by a stalker ghost to being completely infatuated with him. Every step closer to my home increased my nerves. Only moments separated us from being alone in my room. Sure, he had been there before, but under totally different circumstances. Right now, he was a hot guy, I was a girl, and we were going to my room to use a computer. My heart started racing like mad. I didn't think this through. What happens after I Google a couple of vague terms?

With shaking hands I went through my bag looking for my keys. Zack squirmed by my side, shifting his weight from foot to foot, increasing my anxiety. Finally, my hand located the darn thing, and I slid the key into the lock.

Unaware of how clammy my hands had gotten, I turned the key and my fingers slipped. The key chain cut my index finger on the thumb's side. I cussed. The blood oozed from a fresh bruise. “Are you alright?� With urgency, Zack grabbed my hand, and to my utter shock, put my bleeding finger in his mouth, sucking on my blood, with eyes closed. His lashes 124

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swept up, revealing those intoxicating eyes, taking in my perplexed expression. A combination of an animalistic urges and a primitive rush ran through me. My lips parted, and my gaze dropped to my finger between his lips. It was damn sexy, and so wrong. Zack, looking like a shy vampire caught stealing an innocent girl's blood, flashed me confused grin.

Then he gave me my finger back and darted his gaze to the floor, shuffling his feet.

“Zack?” I saw a drop of my blood on his lower lip.

“You've got…um…” Unable to form a coherent sentence, I pointed at his lip.

“Oh.” Zack chuckled and licked the remains of my blood from his lip. I bit mine, struggling with the hunger that stirred inside of me. To stop myself from grabbing him right then and there, I turned to the door and unlocked the freaking thing.

As expected, the house was empty, so I turned on the lights, and motioned for him to get in. Passing me by, his shoulder grazed mine, awakening the hungry beast I put to sleep just a moment ago. I bit my lip again. Zack went straight upstairs to my room, then turned halfway up the steps.

“Coming?” He asked, watching me still plastered to the door.

“Um, yeah.” I turned to lock the door behind us, feeling blood rush to my face. When I turned around, he wasn't in sight. A thought of him already in my room sent my heart down to my heels, then back up. Slowly, I urged myself up the stairs.

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The door to my room was wide open, and the light illuminated the hall. I took a deep breath, and went in.

Zack, oblivious to my state of mind and body, turned to me casually, “How do we do this?”

I cleared my throat, and motioned toward my computer.

“Um, there's only one chair, so one of us will do the searching, and the other one will listen.”

Zack pulled out the chair for me to sit. The gesture had a regal tone to it, and it suited him perfectly. Timidly, I sat down, and turned on my computer. Zack leaned on the back of the chair with his both hands. The boot-up seemed to last forever. I twisted my fingers in my lap, forgetting the injury. It stung, and I suppressed the pain to hide my clumsiness. Finally the welcome screen showed up and I opened the browser window.

“Here we go,” I said and typed in memory recovery techniques. I heard him inhale deeply. Search results appeared, and I started opening a couple of them in tabs.

The first impressions weren’t much, dealing mostly with post-traumatic amnesia and Alzheimer's. None of that could be applied to Zack. But there was one page that suggested several general techniques that caught our attention. Zack lowered his head to get a better view of the page, our cheeks almost touching. I closed my eyes, and stopped breathing for a moment. A thin layer of air between our cheeks felt thick and magnetic, begging to be annihilated. Involuntarily, I shifted in my seat, my cheek grazing his lightly. Goose bumps strolled down the back of my neck.

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thing. You read it.” He then drew in a breath that left the impression that he was sniffing my hair. A few more breaths and I was sure that was exactly what he was doing.

I cleared my throat, and began reading about hypnosis, free association, relaxation training, guided imagery and visualizations, projective-drawing art therapy, dream therapy. Then, out of nowhere, Zack scooped up my hair, and moved it—like that day in the park—over my left shoulder. My bare neck screamed to be kissed, but he didn’t. Instead, he placed his chin on my shoulder like a puppy.

“Guided imagery and visualizations might be worth a shot,” he said, his chin pressing against my shoulder as he talked, sending shivers to my core.

“Mmhmm,” I muttered, scared to move an inch, wanting him badly to make a move on me. Again, he didn’t.

I expanded our search on guided imagery and visualizations. Zack must have grown tired of standing, so he went to sit on my bed. I glanced at him briefly, disappointed by nothing happening, then continued reading. After a while, I came across an interesting piece of information, so I asked him, “What do you think?” He didn’t respond. I assumed he was considering it, so I politely waited, keeping my eyes on the screen. But something was off. All I could hear was deep, relaxed breathing. I turned around, and saw him sleeping. I couldn’t help but laugh.

After saving some bookmarks, I turned off my computer. Reclined in the chair, I watched his chest slowly rise and fall. The serenity on his face was alluring. He was 127

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stretched out on his back on top of my comforter, his arms crossed under his head. I supposed I could wake him up, but I didn’t want to. There was a spare blanket in a drawer under my bed, so I took it out, and covered him.

For a moment, I considered sleeping elsewhere, but my reason was overpowered by emotions. I turned off the light, and went to get myself ready for bed. A couple of minutes later, I came back, and turned on a dim light on my nightstand. He was still in the same position. I climbed in, and curled up on the side with knees tucked in. He stirred, moving his head toward me, but leaving his arms where they were. I stiffened up, anticipating his eyes opening. His breathing continued evenly, and I indulged in exploring his facial features.

Every muscle on that usually quite serious face was now relaxed. I traced the line of his face with my eyes, wishing it was my hand. His dark brows were perfectly arched over closed eyelids. Thick, long, black lashes extended toward his cheeks like little fans. His cheekbones suggested he was way past his baby-fat stage, sending a shiver down to my gut. My glance moved to his straight nose, and down below, to his lips. Both lips were equally full, upper slightly heart-shaped, and I couldn’t think about anything else other than leaning in and doing nasty things to them. As if he sensed my impure intentions threatening his virtue, he stirred. Quickly, I moved from my side to my back, trying to control my heavy breathing, and not flinch.

He changed his position by extending one arm somewhere over my head, and placing his other one over me, resting 128

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his palm on my opposite shoulder. My heart started racing out of control. Then he snuggled closer, burrowing his head in the whole of my neck. He muttered something incomprehensible, and inhaled deeply, exhaling warmth all over my neck. I shivered to the bone. He pulled me closer, and his nose connected with my neck, his breathing tickling me. I gasped, my mind went berserk.

Minutes went by, and I was still unable to relax.

Stiffened, I considered my options. If I move, I risk waking him up, and possibly ending this with him suddenly leaving. Now, why would I do that? If I don’t move, I’ll never know what could have been if he had woken up snuggled like this. That stirred my insides, and warmth zoomed through me. I decided to let my subconsciousness deal with it, and fell asleep.

129

Chapter #9 he alarm clock startled me awake, and I reached over to make it stop. With my eyes still closed, I smacked around the top of the nightstand with my palm and kept missing the clock.

“It won’t help if you break the nightstand.” A husky chuckle against the nape of my neck jolted me. There I was, securely locked in Zack’s embrace, and he was okay with it?

More than obviously, he was wide awake, and didn’t remove his arm. The alarm clock was still howling, and I didn’t know what to do, or say. He moved his arm that was cradling me, and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Good morning,” he said, sending shivers throughout my all-of-asudden-weak body.

“Good morning,” I muttered, and smacked the alarm clock’s off button. Panic-stricken, I searched my mind for options. Now what?

T

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Gently, he rolled me onto my back. My insides flipflopped, and I gulped. Zack propped himself up on an elbow and placed his head on a palm, smiling softly. Our eyes locked—mine wide open as if fighting for air, his soft and dreamy. With his free hand, he grazed my cheek with his knuckles. I gasped.

“Hope I didn’t crush you last night. I’m a restless sleeper.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but my eyes widened even more. I shook my head, and muttered a faint, “No.” Reluctantly I then sat up, turning my back on him. Last night, all I wanted was to kiss him, but now I chickened out. I struggled with my breathing.

“I have to get ready for work,” I said, and got up. He stretched, then climbed out of bed as well. I escaped to the bathroom, scared of what might happen if I got close to him.

Quickly, I brushed my teeth, and combed my hair, then recovered my courage, and went back to my room. I paused to collect myself and opened the door, but Zack wasn’t there. Flabbergasted, my mouth dropped, but then I saw a post-it note on my computer screen.

It read, “Had to run. See you at Mario’s.” That deflated my mood. Mad at myself for chickening out, I hissed aloud, “I must be bipolar!” Freakin’ mood swings!

Y When Sophie rolled in, I was taken aback. She was nothing like the girl I met at the psych ward. That girl was a bitter mess. The one standing before me was sweet, cheerful, 131

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nicely dressed, and glowing with confidence. I had to ignore Zack standing next to her as Mario's was packed with people, but I caught his glance, and his devilish grin.

“Sophie,” I called out. “You look great!”

Sophie did a little twirl, ending with a half bow by extending her skirt, and bending her knees. “Uh-huh,” she murmured, and surprised me with a friendly hug. “I'm so happy to see you.”

“I get off soon,” I said when we broke the hug, “Find a seat and I'll join you ASAP.” Sophie nodded, and Zack silently followed her, grazing my hand on his way past me.

He fixed his eyes on mine, not breaking eye contact until his head had to either turn or fall off. I gasped as there was no doubt he did that on purpose, and wanted me to know it.

The grazing was long, ending with a deliberate twirl of his fingers to touch my palm. I blushed to my roots.

“What can I get you?” I asked Sophie when they sat down.

She looked at Zack whose gaze was transfixed on me, then said, “Tangerine juice. Can he get something?”

I shrugged. “I don't know. Can you make it invisible, Zack?”

“Sure, but I'm fine. No need.” He grinned, maintaining that captivating stare. What was he up to? Did he just want to make me nervous? I sighed, and turned on my heels to get the drink for Sophie. A few moments later I gave Sophie her drink, and rushed to other guests. It was hard work but I ignored Zack's attempts to catch my gaze.

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my friends’ table. Maya and Helen were already angry with me for ditching them all summer, so they stopped coming by every day. Now they only visited every once in a while. I had to come up with a good excuse for not hanging out with them today, and I had none. I considered telling them who Sophie really was, but Brad and Shawn were in the way. I decided to go with a half-truth.

“I have to skip today,” I said, causing a set of frowns on everyone's faces.

“Oh, c'mon.” Maya scowled. Helen looked at me suspiciously.

“You're hiding something,” Helen said, eyeing me.

“Not what you're thinking. Look, I met a girl that has the same problem I do.” I raised both eyebrows, hoping they would catch the drift without me saying it aloud.

“You mean your Zack issue?” Helen inclined her head, giving me the eye. The guys nudged their heads forward.

Hearing a guy's name in a sentence directed at me caught their interest.

“Yes. She's right over there.” I nudged my head toward Sophie's table. “I don't know when I'll get another chance to talk to her, so I have to do it now.”

“K,” Maya said. “But you owe us details later.”

“Who's Zack?” Brad chipped in.

“Her stalker,” Helen said, and I rolled my eyes, hissing “you didn't” at her. She shrugged and smiled. Brad's mouth fell open.

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and I want to hear how she got rid of him.” That was enough to put a lid on Brad's curiosity.

Excusing myself, I got up and went to join Sophie and Zack, picking up a glass of Coke on my way over. I sat across Sophie, and pushed the Coke down the table to Zack.

“Thanks,” he muttered, confused by my gesture. I wondered if it was indeed invisible now that he had it. Both Sophie and I could still see it.

As if she could read my mind, Sophie said, “Is it really invisible now?”

I shrugged. “Zack believes so.” I looked at Zack. He didn't seem to be worried.

“That guy over there is looking our way.” He nudged his head forward, and just like kids, both of us looked in that direction. Our sudden attention made the man avert his gaze, embarrassed.

Sophie giggled. “What about him?” ““Would he have had such a mild expression if there was a glass of Coke floating here?” His brows shot up, paving a way for a smug grin.

“Probably not.”

“Cool.” Sophie grinned widely. “So, how long have you been together?” She took a gulp of her tangerine.

“Together?” I choked on the word. She didn't mean . . . did she? Zack and I exchanged confused looks.

“Yeah. I knew you were a couple as soon as you walked into my room.”

“Oh, we're not.” I said, hearing Zack protesting at the same time.

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“Oh, please! Give me some credit!”

“No, we're really not.” I felt embarrassed. Sure, I wanted to be his . . . whatever. But . . . I glanced at Zack; he was fiddling with his glass.

“Well, you should be.” I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. At the corner of my eye, I thought I saw the slightest of nods on Zack's behalf, but it couldn't have been. “It's written all over you.” Sophie cracked a smile.

“What is?” Zack asked, downing the last of his Coke.

“Attraction!”

I felt my cheeks burn. I heard Zack grunt something, but the buzzing in my ears prevented me from hearing what.

“You two are ridiculous,” Sophie snorted. “But I'm glad you came into my life. How can I ever repay you?”

“Nah, there’s nothing to repay” I waved my hand.

“It was the least we could—” Zack stopped without finishing his sentence. His face turned pale, and his lower lip trembled.

“Zack?” He didn't respond. He gripped the table with his both hands, and pressed his lips together hard, turning them pale as well.

“Is he okay?” Sophie looked to me for an answer. I shrugged, and placed my hand on his shoulder. That broke his trance, and he looked at me. The pain behind his glance ripped my insides apart. Something bad was going on.

“Zack, what's wrong?” I shook his shoulder to get his attention.

“I just remembered my birthday.”

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“A birthday? As in a horrible birthday party?” I asked, forcing a smile.

“No.” He swallowed hard, and the pain in his eyes turned into confusion. “A date.”

“And that's a bad thing?” Sophie asked, cautiously.

Still holding my gaze, Zack's lips trembled before he said, “August, 2091.”

“What?!” I shrieked. He had to be joking. “That can't be true,” I said, suddenly feeling queasy. “1991, maybe?”

Zack grabbed my face between his palms, staring deep into my eyes, “Lyra, it's 2091.”

“But . . . NO! That's not possible.” The pain building up inside of me stopped me from rumbling further. I placed my hands over his which were still cradling my face, and fought the urge to cry. Seeing my emotions mirrored in his eyes as well made it that much harder. Tears burned my throat.

“Pfft. You're wasting precious time.” Sophie’s comment jerked our heads toward her. “Look at you!” We swiveled our heads back, gazing at one another. “You can't deny what just happened there.” She motioned between us with her finger, and chuckled.

“2091, Sophie!”

“I heard him. There's nothing you can do about that, but you can make the most of his time here.”

Hearing her words intensified my pain. As if suckerpunched in the chest, I gasped for air. That couldn't be true.

I wanted to scream. His time here kept repeating in my head over and over, like a malevolent echo.

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lowered his glance. “It could be a false memory.” That came out more as a question than a statement.

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, not. Some other fragments came back. Remember when I told you that none of the earlier ones matched anything from around here?”

Defeated, I nodded once, feeling the ground crumble under my feet. “Well, that's because I am from the future.” His voice cracked, and he took my hand in his. “The new ones fit with the old ones. Now it all makes sense.”

“I'm so sorry, guys,” Sophie said, her glance matching her words.

“But, how did you end up in 2013?” I asked Zack, squeezing his hand.

“I've no idea.”

I turned to Sophie, “You said before that their last memory is their destination. How could he have known me in the future?”

“Beats me.” She shrugged. “Maybe he found a picture of you in an old building, and then a ceiling collapsed on top of him or something.” My world came crashing down like a ceiling in Sophie’s statement, and then Sophie pushed the knife deeper. “I have to warn you, Zack. If you start feeling a pull in your lower back, a kind of thug, it's your body pulling you back.”

Zack inhaled sharply, and I couldn't take it anymore. I covered my face to hide my tears, and rushed outside. I needed air. I needed to wake up from this nightmare. Zack came straight after me, but I ran away from him. One more look in his eyes, and I would have broken down in front of 137

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him. The pain was tearing me apart, and the more it hurt, the more I pushed my body to run faster. There was only one thing on my mind—reaching that bench in the park, the one that made it all okay. That was the place where a life with Zack had seemed possible. As soon as I reached the bench, I collapsed on it, and started crying hard. Sobs burst out of me in terrible waves, releasing everything that had been piling up inside.

“I knew I'd find you here,” Zack said, temporarily bringing my sobs to a halt. He sat down and scooped me up into his lap. Curled up, I placed my head on his shoulder, quietly sobbing. Tenderly, he wiped the tears from my face with his thumb, and removed strands of hair dampened by tears from my eyes.

“I wish I'd known you felt the same,” he said, gazing absently toward the trees, and gently stroking my hair. I jumped up in his lap, and stared into his eyes, confused.

“The same?” I blinked.

His eyes left the trees, and latched onto mine. His captivating gaze studied my eyes for a moment. He nodded, then placed his hand on the nape of my neck, and pulled my head closer to his, stopping with our lips an inch apart.

Looking deep into my eyes, he drew in a deep breath. I felt something inside me jolt. Slowly he closed the gap between us and connected his lips with mine, igniting every cell in my body. The softness of his lips against mine stirred feelings I didn’t know existed. He parted his lips slightly, allowing mine to slip between his. He groaned, and pressed harder on my lips, while placing both palms on my cheeks.

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A moment later, he broke off to glance at me, panting. My breathing matched his.

The need took over, and he dived to my mouth again, entwining his soft tongue with mine. The hunger in me became insatiable. I wanted this fire in him to consume all of me. As he explored every bit of my mouth, his hands and body revealed desperate wanting, desire, lust, and pain— feelings which were also present in me. I wished we were back in my room and not in the park; I didn't want him to ever stop. I wanted to crawl into him and become one.

We kissed until our faces hurt and we couldn't keep up with our desire. Then I curled up around him, afraid of losing him if I let go. Resting my head on his shoulder, I remembered how much I had wanted to kiss his neck the first time we were in the park, so I moved in closer to indulge that desire. I placed a soft kiss just under his ear, then another one closer to his jaw. He let out a moan that propelled me back into sweet oblivion.

“Oh, I wanted this so badly,” he said hoarsely, and dived back to my mouth with the same hunger as before.

The kind of hunger that turned my insides into a feverish frenzy, yearning for more.

The sun set behind the trees, allowing darkness to fall around us. His eyes glistened in the darkness, and I wondered if it was streetlight’s reflection or if he was tearing up. I became painfully aware that we would eventually have to break our hug and face the reality. Pain gripped my gut again, and I snuggled closer. I hoped that if I held on, he would stay forever.

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“This is plain cruel.” He finally broke our silence.

“What is?” I cocked my head in confusion.

“This! You and me. Why would someone make this possible, and then take it away?”

“I don't know.” I said, and suppressed an urge to cry again. “Life usually isn't very fair.” I muttered, at the same time refusing to believe my own words.

“There must be a way!” Determination flashed in his eyes, but his voice sounded desperate.

“I doubt it. We simply don't get our happily-ever-after ending.”

“Don't say that!” He pressed my head against his chest, then squeezed the rest of me so tight I could barely breathe.

“How can I live somewhere else after feeling this way?”

Looking up, I said, “Maybe you won't remember me.”

My throat clenched at that thought. He looked at me shocked and more than a little hurt.

“There's no way I could ever forget you.” Gently he traced my cheekbone with his fingers. “You mean too much to me.”

“I certainly won't forget you.” My eyes watered.

Defiantly, I wiped off a tear. He was right, this was cruel torture. “Zack?”

“Mmhmm.”

“How did we get here?” I asked, gazing into those deep green eyes that held my reflection.

“You ran away and I knew where to find you.”

“No. I mean how did we get to caring so much about each other in such a short time?”

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“I don't know. But believe me, I’m there.” He smiled.

I raised my head and kissed him. There were no words I could say that would convey what I felt. I hoped my kiss would show him everything I wanted. The desperation that colored his voice earlier now was reflected in his kiss, savoring every bit of me. After we parted, he stared intently into my eyes and kissed my forehead. It was time to go home.

Leaving him on the bus was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. My heart sank more with every step I took toward my house. There had to be a solution, or I would die.

There was no way my heart could handle losing him. It would surely shatter into pieces.

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