Mrs. Polk was explaining how to turn scientific observations into hypotheses when her eyes narrowed on Justin’s napping form.
“Excuse me, Mr. Cobb,” she said, crossing the classroom to rap her hand against the plywood surface of his desk. Her skin strained against her too-tight bun, making her look like a hawk ready to snatch its prey. “I realize this is the first day of class so you’re not familiar with my rules, but I don’t take kindly to anyone sleeping in my class. We’re here to learn, Mr. Cobb, and if you’re not going to listen, then I suggest you head to the principal's office to see how he feels about your little classroom nap.”
The class watched curiously as Justin opened his eyes slowly to meet her gaze, his smile broadening when he sat up.
“Sorry, Mrs. Polk, but I wasn’t sleeping.” He cleared his throat, leaning forward as he folded his hands on top of his desk. “I was actually listening.”
Then he did the most amazing thing I have ever heard—he proceeded to recite the last few minutes of her lecture almost verbatim, recalling the details as if he’d heard the same lecture a hundred times before.
Mrs. Polk blinked back at him a few times, stunned and at a loss for words. Then she gave him a terse nod and headed back to her lectern.
“Very well then. Where was I?”
Justin stretched back into his previous slumber position, but not before turning around to meet my eyes with one final wink. I had to check the corners of my mouth for drool.
When class ended, I pulled a classic Sunny maneuver. Using my elbow, I nudged my pencil off the edge of my desk with enough force that it bounced up the row toward Justin. He looked down at it, then back at me, just in time to see me fake-reaching for it in such a way that my cleavage was in perfect viewing range. He smiled and passed it back to me.
“See you later, Taylor.”
“See ya,” I said, giving him the warmest, most welcoming grin I could muster.
Game on, Justin Cobb.
CHAPTER FOUR
SOMEONE ELSE
The classroom faded from view, and my feet were back on the stairs working their way upward as though I’d been climbing the whole time. I felt dizzy, but otherwise everything was the same as it had been before I’d touched the Justin-ghost, which was now nowhere to be seen.
I shook my head to rid it of the memory. Was it all in my head? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, one thing was clear: touching the ghosts made weird shit happen.
Even if I couldn’t touch him, I wanted Justin to come back. I wanted to hear his voice. I wanted to talk to him. Hell, I would have talked to almost anyone. Even Brandon Blakes. For the love of God, please, give me someone to talk to.
“Hello!” I yelled, stopping mid-stride. “Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me? Justin-ghost? Sunny-ghost? Anyone? Please … ”
I held my breath, like I expected something to happen, but the air was still and silent. I set my foot on the next step and let my shoulders sag with defeat, feeling utterly and completely alone.
Then I heard the voice.
It was faint at first; so faint I thought I might have imagined it. Then it came again, louder and clearer than before.
“Is someone there?” A woman’s voice called in the distance. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes! I’m here! I can hear you!” My stomach did a somersault, then a back handspring. Someone was there! Someone could hear me! “Where are you? I’ll come find you!”
“Hello?” she said again. “Is anyone there?”
I filled my lungs with air so I could shout as loud as possible. “Yes, I’m here!” It sounded like the voice came from somewhere on the steps above me. If I could only reach her.
“I can’t turn around,” the voice said. It was fainter again, as though she had moved up the staircase and away from me. “Why can’t I turn around? What is this place?”
“I can’t turn around either. Listen, can you stay put? Let me come to you?” I waited for a second, but there was no answer.
“Hello?” I called. “Are you still there? I’m coming to get you. Stay put, okay? If you can hear me stay where you are!”
I didn’t wait for an answer before I started running up the steps, pumping my legs and arms as fast as I could manage. It didn’t even matter who was up there, I just didn’t want to be alone anymore.
I ran with my head tilted upward, scanning the stairs for the source of the voice. The steps whizzed past me. My flip-flops clapped a steady rhythm against my heels. I ran and ran, but the backdrop didn’t change.
“Are you still there?” I stopped so I could listen for a response. No one answered.
“Are you still there? Can you please say something? Please!”
Silence.
I didn’t realize I was crying until the sob erupted from my chest. Where could she have gone? Why couldn’t she hear me anymore?
I cradled my head in my hands as my body shook, lurching from side to side. None of it made any sense. Nothing about this horrible place made any sense. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be anywhere but on the steps.
Something tapped me on the shoulder.
When I looked up, Justin stood beside me with a Kleenex in his hand. I stared at the white tissue, not believing it was real until he finally pressed it into my open palm. The material felt soft as I rubbed it between my thumb and forefinger. It was real. I could feel it between my fingers.
“How did you—”
He shrugged and walked up a few steps, then turned to see if I followed.