Apparition (15 page)

He laughs. “That depends on how you define
girlfriend
.”

“Oh. I get it.” At least, I think I do.

“Do you?” He looks over at me, and I can’t read his expression.

Maybe Joyce is right. If she thinks he’s too old for me, I mean. I give up trying to figure him out. I turn away and watch the farms fly by.

“I did a search in the archives today,” he says finally, sounding more like himself. “I looked up the death notices for
1980
and found Paul Telford.”

“Really?” I have to force myself to sound natural again. “Anything interesting?”

“Yeah, kind of. I found an article in the local paper with the headline ‘Young Man Found Dead After Acceptance by McGill.’ As if there was a connection. It said he was found in the barn on the family farm on
12th Line early the previous morning. Foul play wasn’t suspected, and police were listing the death as an apparent suicide. And it goes on to quote a family friend who said Paul’s acceptance to McGill University might have caused him to snap under the pressure or something.”

“Really? Wow, I guess people are always looking for a reason.” It reminds me of Matthew. We drive east along the highway in silence for a few minutes, and then Kip clears his throat.

“So just to get this straight,” he begins, and I realize he’s changing the subject again, “this isn’t a date, right?” He looks over at me with this sly expression. “Which means you won’t mind if I hit on Brittany tonight.”

My jaw drops before I can stop it. I feel my face heating up. Why don’t I just get out of the car right now?

“If you want to hit on Brittany, who am I to stop you? Free country. I mean …” How do I say this? “It
might
be slightly humiliating, seeing as how you’ve come to the party with me.” I’m feeling humiliated already. I don’t think I can even look at him.

“Because I’m your
date
, you mean?” He says that sounding all innocent.

I finally turn to look at him, exasperated. “I never said that. Brittany only invited me thinking I’d bring you along. So it’s really you she invited, and you should feel free to do whatever you want. I’m sure Brittany will be
extremely
receptive.”

I’m trying not to sound too upset, but I can’t help it. What is it with this guy? One minute he’s Prince Charming and the next, well, it’s like I’m the ugly stepsister. Okay, I admit it: in my mind, this was kind of a date. My first-ever date, in fact. But whatever. Now I don’t feel like showing my face.

We drive the rest of the way in silence. Finally, as we enter town, Kip asks me where exactly we’re going, and I give him an address
and directions. We arrive and park the car, then get out and walk toward Brittany’s house. All I can think of is that it’s too late to turn and run. We’re standing awkwardly on her front porch, about to ring the bell, when I can’t keep it in any longer.

“I think this is a mistake.”

Kip just looks at me, then reaches out to push the doorbell. Waiting for someone to answer, he suddenly puts an arm around my shoulder, like he did back at my house. Only this time the grip is a little tighter. He leans into my ear. “You think too much,” he whispers. Just in time for Brittany, all blonde hair and crimson lipstick, to appear at the door.

She opens up with a manic and wide-mouthed “Hey!” and welcomes us inside.

Kip turns to me with a wink. “After you, girlfriend,” he says.

I
’m strangely happy. I guess it’s strange only because it doesn’t feel familiar. Kip takes hold of my hand once he turns south onto 12th Line, and hangs on. I have to admit, I like it. Then he looks over at me.

“You know what? Before I take you home, I’d really like to drive by the barn. Just to see it. Do you mind? Would that bother you?”

I didn’t see that coming. I gently pull my hand away from his. I have to think.

“Um, I’m not sure. I think your dad would freak if he knew.” When I look over at his face in the faint glow of the dashboard lights, he looks innocent enough. I suppose looking can’t hurt, can it?

He was just perfect at Brittany’s party. Usually I dread hanging out like that, but Kip made it feel almost natural. He talked and joked with my friends, but he stayed at my side the whole time. And his arm was around me so much that I kind of got used to it. It felt amazing, actually. Everybody was acting friendly. We laughed quite a lot.

This stop at the barn may be a bad end to an otherwise great evening. But I guess it’s too late for second thoughts now.

I point to the Telford property as we come over the crest of the hill. The night is overcast and there’s no moon, so the barn looks like a huge black hole in the darkness. “There it is.”

He drives slowly up the driveway, then veers off at an angle that aims the headlights at the barn. He turns off the engine but leaves the headlights on, and the circles of light fall on the grey barnboard about thirty feet away.

“Hmm,” he says. “Maybe a
little
spooky.”

We sit in the car for a few minutes, just taking it in. With the engine off, it’s starting to get cold in here. Finally I speak up.

“What do you think? Had enough yet?”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind sticking my head inside, just for a peek. Dad has a flashlight in the back seat. Want to come? I won’t actually go all the way in or anything.”

“Are you serious?” I’m shaking my head. “That’s crazy, Kip. I promised your dad I wouldn’t go back in there.”

“You did?”

“Well, not exactly. But I know he’d be pissed.”

He looks at me with a smirk, like he doesn’t believe I’d let that stop me. Maybe he’s right. I don’t want him to go on his own.

“Just a peek, then,” I warn him. “You have to promise me. And you have to stay right beside me the whole time.” He laughs. “Kip, there’s … there’s something in there. Something evil. And it possesses people. Young men, anyway.” But he’s not changing his mind, I can tell. It’s too late.

“Promise me you’ll let me know if you feel the slightest bit strange,” I say.

He laughs again. “As opposed to what?” He reaches into the back
seat for Morris’s mini-flashlight. “Listen, I promise. I hear you. Just a peek. Stop worrying.”

We walk toward the front of the barn; the flashlight is hanging from a cord around his neck. The door is open a few inches, left like that by Morris and me last weekend. What if I see Matthew? I take a deep breath as Kip pushes the door open another foot and slips inside. Reluctantly I push in beside him, keeping my back to the open door, an arm’s length away. It’s really dark in here.

He puts his arm back around my shoulders. “It’s okay,” he whispers, giving me a friendly shake. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

He grabs the flashlight in his other hand and begins to scan the barn walls, from left to right. I’m afraid to look but I force myself. I don’t see anything. Or anybody. That’s a relief. It’s quiet and empty, or so it seems.

“Looks like a regular old barn to me,” he says, not bothering to whisper this time.

We stand still, listening and peering for a few more minutes, our eyes getting used to the darkness.

“Had enough?” I finally ask. I’m eager to leave. And then I feel it. The cold, ticklish sensation I’ve felt before. It sends a shiver through me. What is it?

Kip turns toward me in the dim light and smiles. He pulls me closer and gives me a hug. His face is inches away from mine now. He’s looking at me so intensely that it takes my breath away. He lets the flashlight dangle from the cord around his neck, lighting up the ground at our feet, leaving our faces in near darkness. He leans in closer, touching his forehead to mine. Suddenly his nose is burrowing into the nape of my neck, sending a different kind of shiver through me. His hand reaches around my waist. His mouth brushes along my neck, warm and moist. I feel his breath. Oh my God! What
if Matthew can see us? I close my eyes. He kisses my cheek. My knees are going weak, and I hold on to his shoulders. His breathing is getting heavier. His lips move slowly across my face, hover over my mouth. I don’t know what to do—

And then a horrible fear hits me.
What if this isn’t really Kip? Oh my God! It’s not Kip!

In a split-second reflex, I push away and punch out as hard as I can. He yells, hands flying up to his mouth, and staggers backwards. Got to get him out! I barrel into his chest and shove him through the barn door. He’s swearing behind his cupped hands, and I hear a muffled “What the hell?” as I grab his coat and pull with all my strength, dragging him farther away from the opening.

“Kip! Kip! Snap out of it!” I’m freaking out, shaking him by his shoulders as best I can. It’s not easy. “Kip! Are you all right?” He’s not answering. “Talk to me!” I scream as I keep shaking him.

He finally drops his hands and looks at me in disbelief. His lips are bloody, and he spits red.

“Am I all right? You punched me in the mouth!”

He touches his mouth gingerly, mumbling curses.

“Kip? Kip? Please just say something so I know for sure it’s you!” I’m half crying now, trying to hold up his face, look into his eyes.

“Of course it’s me!” He pulls away. “Who else? Bloody hell!” He’s looking at me like I’m crazy. I feel the heat of embarrassment rise through me.

“I … I thought …”

“You thought
what
?”

“I thought you were possessed.”

“Possessed? By what?” He sounds incredulous.

“It’s full of ghosts in there! I mean, what were you thinking?” I’m starting to feel furious and I can hardly get the words out.

“I think it’s safe to say I
wasn’t
thinking,” he mutters bitterly. “Clearly I wasn’t
thinking
at all.”

I’m shaking with anger and humiliation now, digging for some Kleenex in my pocket and shoving tissues into his hand. He holds them to his cut upper lip. Then he lowers the tissues, glances at the blood there and looks at me with his disbelieving blue eyes and flushed face.

I drop to the ground and start crying. He stands over me. I can see his shoes through my tears. It’s a struggle to speak.

“Do you know what a scare you gave me?” I manage to ask. “Matthew died in there. And my brother could have died.” I just can’t believe this. I look up at his face. “I mean, was that your idea of a joke?”

He looks stricken. “Joke? God, no! I’m really, really sorry, Amelia. I really am. I wasn’t thinking. Just … please, it was a mistake. A big mistake. I swear. I’m sorry. Let me take you home.”

I suddenly feel like such a horrible idiot. “Your mouth …” I say, and he cuts me off.

“It’s fine. I’ll live.” He’s bending over me now, holding up my arms and pulling me to my feet. “Let’s go.”

He walks me to the car and we get in. Minutes later, we pull up to the front drive of my house in awkward silence.

“I’m sorry, Amelia, really,” he says again.

I nod, barely whispering, “I’m sorry too.”

I can’t look at him. I can’t believe I hit him. He thinks I’m crazy for sure now. And maybe he’s right. I get out of the car and drag my feet to the front steps, listening to his car reverse down the driveway and head off up the road.

I
n the dream I was caught in some kind of battle, all explosions and panic, ducking gunfire and grenades, overwhelmed by noise and cold terror. Now, in my dark bedroom, waiting for my wildly beating heart to settle down, I’m wondering what war has to do with anything. Except the dying part.

It was hard enough to fall asleep to begin with, and now it’s four a.m. and I’m back to thinking about what happened last evening. I’m so embarrassed. But I can’t believe Kip actually kissed me—in the barn. There’s all the proof I needed that he really doesn’t believe in ghosts. Which means he can’t think much of me.

The problem is that I keep remembering what it felt like, being kissed like that. It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I try to block it out. When I finally fall asleep again, about two hours later, I dream that I am back in the barn, his warm breath on my neck, his lips on my skin. But this time when I pull away, it’s Matthew holding me in his arms, his eyes misty and half closed, his mouth slightly open, widening to a smile. My heart leaps. Then my eye
catches someone standing behind him in the shadows. The moonlight shines golden on his hair. It’s Kip, watching us, his blue eyes dark, his face sad. Like he’s the one who’s dead. This time when I wake up, I’m in tears. What’s wrong with me?

Come Saturday morning, I’m still stuck on replay. The evening was so much fun, but then everything flipped and crashed. The next time I see Kip, it will feel awkward as hell. What should I say? Should I try to act like it never happened? And what if Morris finds out? I feel awful. But I shouldn’t be the one to feel bad, should I?

I check my Facebook page. Morgan’s posted some pictures from the party. There’s one of me and Kip smiling at each other. I stare at his face for a long time. Then I practically smash the page closed and look at Matthew on my desktop. How could I have enjoyed being with Kip so much last night? What was I thinking?
You’re the one I love, Matthew. There’s nothing between Kip and me
.

I reach a decision: I’m going back into the barn today, by myself.

When I finally come downstairs, it’s to the usual noise of Ethan playing a video game on the TV set in the front room. I stick my head in and ask him who’s winning.

“Me,” he says. “You wanna play a game?” His voice is hopeful.

“Maybe later,” I say. “Maybe this afternoon.” Poor Ethan, always looking for a little attention. I think he still really misses our mom. We all do, but since he’s the baby of the family, it’s harder for him.

In the kitchen I search the cupboard for breakfast. I can see Joyce from the window, out back with the horses. It’s a windy day and the horses’ manes are whipping around. So is Joyce’s scarf, just like a tail. She’s feeding them, talking to them as she works. You can tell
she’s talking, even from this distance. Her horses are the only things she loves. Well, and maybe Jack.

While I’m sitting at the kitchen table, munching on some cereal, my thoughts still lost in last evening, the kitchen door swings open with a bang that makes me jump, and Joyce steps inside. She works off her ankle boots and unzips her jacket, leaving it on one of the wooden pegs by the door.