Page 22 of Ghosted
When I makeit back home, I sigh as I stare at the brick and glass storefront of The Veil. I’m no closer to coming up with a solution for the store, and now I’m playing Nancy Drew to help my ghostly friend figure out how he died.
It sounds awful, but I’m hoping to find out it was a random freak accident, like a heart attack or an aneurysm while his car was still running. At least that way, no one else is involved, and he can find some peace since it was out of his control. If someone did this to him… Well, that’s a whole different ball game.
Not wanting to sit in my apartment alone with my thoughts, I decide to go for a walk to one of my favorite local diners. It’s just up the road from me and serves the best patty melt around. The crinkle cut fries are the perfect pillowy softness with crunchy edges, and the soda is always crisp. My mouth waters at the thought, and I suddenly remember I haven’t had anything besides coffee this morning. And that wasbefore I drove off to connect with nature—and ghosts, apparently.
I pull open the door to Sarah’s Diner and squeak my way over the classic black-and-white checkered floor to a maroon leather booth in the back. It’s a little after one in the afternoon, so I missed the lunch crowd, and I appreciate the quiet. Within moments, a pimply faced, gangly teenage boy hands me a menu the size of my torso and walks off with the promise of a Coke.
I scan the menu briefly, already knowing what I’m going to order but wanting to look just in case. I close the menu when it turns out that I won’t be branching out from my tried-and-true patty melt. I’ve ordered the same thing from Sarah’s since I was a pimply faced teen myself.
While I wait for my order, I read a book on my phone, getting lost in a thriller with an unreliable narrator. There is just something so satisfying about getting absorbed in someone else’s much bigger problems. Especially when you know that everything will be tied up in a neat little bow at the end, and you’ll have all the answers you need. If only everything were so simple.
When my food gets dropped off, I devour a fry before it can cool down, cursing myself with a burned tongue for not having more patience.
“God, I really should have eaten more of those,” Rebecca, the girl who died for sprouts, says, appearing suddenly across from me.
I scowl at her and hold up a subtle finger to silence her briefly. I pick up my phone, set it against my ear and say, “Mmhm, you should have. Now, can I please enjoy them before they go cold?”
She rolls her eyes at me and leans against the table, cupping her chin in her hand. “Aren’t you supposed to help me?”
“I thought you didn’t want me to look crazy?” I say, peering at her with a raised brow, gesturing vaguely to the public space around me.
Rebecca shrugs a toned shoulder. “I figured you had some sort of protocol for this sort of thing, and you’re alone. Besides, who’s going to do anything? The teenaged boy who hasn’t stopped staring at your boobs? Please,” she scoffs.
I purse my lips, deciding I’m not going to let her ruin my lunch. She can sit there and watch me eat, for all I care. I’m starving, and anyway, she’s right. Idowant to help her against my better judgment. Damned desire to be helpful. It’s inconvenient sometimes. I heft the patty melt with one hand and ask, “Okay, so I’m guessing you need help figuring out why you’re still here?” I take a giant bite and don’t bother suppressing the moan of pleasure at the cheesy, oniony goodness.
“Do you two need a moment?” she snarks, snapping her fingers in my face.
Once I swallow my bite, I say, “Listen, I haven’t eaten all day and I’m starved. I know you’ve probably already forgotten how annoying it is to be hungry, but it sucks, okay? So I’m going to eat and you’re going to talk.”
She sighs and nods. As I wait for her to tell me why she’s back to bothering me, I realize that her lip gloss has made it to the afterlife. Typical—she looks like a model even in death. Meanwhile, I look like I got into a fight with that chipmunk.
I accidentally got lost on my way back to my car when I went off-trail to look at these huge mushrooms. They were farther away from the path than I thought, and it took me longer than I want to admit to find my way back. By the time Imade it back to the entrance of the trail, I had anxiety sweats, had gotten a scratch on the cheek, and a branch stuck in my hair. I managed to get the branch out, but it left my hair looking like a rat’s nest in its wake.
“Fine. Yes, I need your help,” she says reluctantly. I raise my brow and make a “go on” gesture with my hand. “Well, I figured out why I’m still here.” She clears her throat and sits up straighter, looking like she’s never slouched a day in her life. “My fiancé is cheating on me.”
“Cheating?” I ask, finally setting down my sandwich. She nods gravely, and I take a sip of my Coke. “I’m sorry. That must have been awful to find out… But what does that have to do with you sticking around?” I’m secretly hoping that she isn’t holding him to their relationship postmortem.
“Before I died, I had a suspicion, but I could never confirm it. He always had an excuse for every weird behavior. Out late? He had a project that he needed to put in some overtime for. Smiling at his phone? Just saw a funny video. Starting to work out more? He cares about his health. He made me feel like I was going crazy.” She scowls into the distance.
“So, how did you figure it out?” I ask, swiping my fry through ketchup before popping it in my mouth.
“I went back to our apartment after you and I talked last. He’s already gotten rid of all of my things! He didn’t even save a keepsake.” She sits back and crosses her arms indignantly, her agitation causing a plunge in temperature. “Not even the nice watch I got him for our second anniversary. He probably pawned it!” she screeches.
“Okay, but maybe he’s just grieving and having your things around makes him sad,” I reason, shivering in the sudden cold.
“I would have thought the same thing, but I stayed longenough to overhear a phone conversation withCrystal.” She spits the name like a curse. “Crystal was babbling on about their six-month anniversary. How special it was going to be, and that she bought some fancy new lingerie for the occasion. I died two months ago.”
I wince. Yeah, the bastard definitely cheated. “But what does this have to do with you not moving on?”
“Well, obviously I want revenge,” she deadpans with a raised brow.
I purse my lips and nod. “I get it, trust me. But I’m not really in the business of harming the living.”
She glowers. “Again, what are you good for?”
“I resent that!” I say, wanting very much to throw something at her. Unfortunately, it would pass right through, so it would only serve to make me look like I was having a break down. I scowl instead and readjust my phone in my hand. “Rebecca, if you can’t be polite, you’re on your own.”
She sighs through her nose and says, “I just want you to help me come up with a plan, okay? I know in my gut that this is why I’m still here.” I frown because I’m sure she’s right. She’s here because she’s seeking revenge. She wouldn’t be the first vengeful spirit I’ve encountered, but she would be the first one I’ve helped. I usually stay away from them; I don’t have the stomach for revenge.
