I Heart You, You Haunt Me (4 page)

A Strange Sensation

I can hear my heart

beat

beat

beating

in the darkness

as I try

to go to sleep.

The clock says 12:08.

Mom is asleep by now.

I get up

and go down the stairs

to make hot cocoa.

Will he be there,

waiting for me?

My heart is

beat

beat

beating

faster,

even though

there’s no sign of him.

When the hot cocoa is done,

I put marshmallows in.

I stir slowly,

watching them melt

into each other.

I think of Jackson.

His touch,

his kisses,

and the way he looked at me,

with eyes like a green ocean.

I take a sip,

and the cocoa’s so hot

it burns my tongue.

Hot.

Cold.

Hot.

Cold.

I shiver.

“Jackson?”

Smells Like Sandalwood

I spin

around

and around

and around

like a top on a wooden floor.

“Where are you?

Show me you’re here.

Please?”

I stop.

I stand still.

I wait.

There is just enough light

from the full moon

shining through the

kitchen window.

The white, frilly curtains

move slightly.

Shifting.

Fluttering.

And then I smell

the smell that was all

Jackson,

because he kept that head

and beautiful face

so well shaven.

Sandalwood

shaving

cream.

Music Says It All

I sit down

at the kitchen table

and I whisper,

like he is sitting

right across from me.

“Jackson, I know it’s you.

I’m not scared.

Maybe I should be, but I’m not.

Whatever you need to do to talk to me,

in your own way, is okay.

I’m not scared.

“Can I see you?

I want to see you.”

Nothing happens.

I ask him, “Don’t ghosts or spirits or whatever

sometimes show themselves?”

And then

the CD player

on the kitchen counter

starts to play.

3 Doors Down.

Here By Me.

Skinless

The music’s loud.

It makes me

jump

right out of my skin.

I run over

and turn it down.

As I do,

I see the slightest reflection

of Jackson

on the stainless steel fridge.

“Oh, God.

It’s really you.

Jackson.

You’re here.”

I feel him

move closer to me.

The smell of him

fills me up.

It makes the hairs

on my arms

stand up straight.

“Can I touch you?” I whisper.

No answer.

I guess,

in order to

touch,

there has to be skin,

which a ghost

doesn’t have.

I Can Hear You

There’s

a murmur

inside my brain,

so quiet,

I have to close my eyes tight

and really concentrate

to hear it.

Ava,

I’m here.

I can’t talk this way often.

It’s hard to get my thoughts

through to you.

Just know

I love you,

and I’m not going to leave you.

Dancing in the Moonlight

I whisper back.

“I understand.

You don’t have to talk.

You don’t have to do anything.

Just you being here

is enough.

I’m
so
glad you’re here, Jackson.”

I have more I want to say.

But not now.

Now is the time

to just be together.

“Dance with me,” I whisper.

I get up, and sway to the music.

My eyes are closed.

I imagine him there,

with me in the moonlight,

hugging me,

caressing me,

loving me.

And I know

with all of my

Jackson-loving heart

that’s exactly

what he’s doing.

But then

the music turns off

and the room

warms up.

He’s gone.

Trust Me

A few seconds later,

Mom appears.

She flicks on the light

and I squint my eyes

at the brightness.

“Ava?

Are you okay?

I thought I heard music.

Were you playing music?”

“Sorry, Mom.

I came down to have cocoa.

I turned the CD player on.

Sorry it woke you up.”

She reaches out

and hugs me.

“Why are you shaking?” she asks.

“Did I scare you?”

There’s no way I can tell her.

“I guess a little.

But I’m okay.

Ready for bed.”

She keeps her arm

around me

and we go upstairs

together.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asks

when we get to my room.

I smile.

“Better than ever.”

The Next Morning

What if it was

just

a

dream?

Lovely Lemons

I wait all day,

wandering the house,

but there is no sign

of him.

If he said he isn’t going to leave me,

why does it seem like

he’s left me?

Maybe being a ghost is

more complicated

than I understand.

I make fresh lemonade,

squeezing the lemons

Mom brought home

yesterday.

Lemons are one of

my favorite things.

Luscious

and juicy,

they remind me

of Jackson’s

kisses.

I remember the time

we went out for dessert.

He had chocolate cake.

I had a lemon tart.

“You have lemon,” Jackson said,

“in the corner of your mouth.

Let me get it for you.”

And just like that

he leaned in

and kissed me,

his tongue gently licking

the lemon

away.

That’s how it was with us.

Comfortable.

Easy.

So. Incredibly. Wonderful.

I add sugar,

water,

and ice cubes

to the juice

in the pitcher.

When I take a drink,

it tastes

sweet and sour

like it should be.

My heart feels

sweet and sour too.

Is that how it should be?

And then,

when the coolness

sweeps over me,

giving me goose bumps,

and I know he has returned,

everything is oh, so

sweet.

A Gift

Dad comes home.

“Angel,” he says, hugging me.

He breaks away

to tell me

what I already knew.

“I’m sorry.

What a rotten time for me to be gone.”

I know he’s been worried about me.

He’s called almost every day.

“I’m okay, Dad.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He reaches down,

unzips his suitcase,

and pulls out a bag.

“I brought you some perfume.

They say Paris makes the best, you know.”

I take it out of the bag.

A shiny, gold sun

caps the bottle.

I unscrew the sun

and take a whiff.

“I figured you could use a little sunshine about now,” he tells me.

I hug him again.

“Thanks, Dad.

I’m glad you’re home.”

Life with a Ghost

Jackson seems

to be afraid

to come around

if my parents

are with me.

I guess if they knew

about him,

it
would
be really strange.

Dad sticks

close to me.

We talk a lot

and share ice cream

after dinner.

Finally,

I retreat

to my room.

There’s a note

on my mirror

written

in toffee lipstick.

Ava

is

beautiful.

Ava

is

good.

Ava

is

mine.

I put the lipstick

on my lips

and give the mirror

a big, fat

kiss.

Not a Pity Party

Saturday morning,

Zoe calls.

“I’m having a pool party tonight,” she says.

“Will you come?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ava, I miss you.

Please come.”

I tell her I’ll call her back.

I need to think about it.

“Who was that?” Mom asks.

“Zoe.

She’s having a pool party tonight.”

“Sounds like fun. You should go.”

“But—”

I don’t finish my sentence.

I can’t say,

But I’d rather stay home and hang out with Jackson.

Because he’s here,

and maybe we’ll make hot cocoa together

or something.

Hard to Say Yes

“But what, honey?” Mom asks.

She’s pouring herself

a glass of lemonade.

“Can I have some of that?” I ask.

I watch the yellow liquid

splash into the glass,

so free and sure of itself.

Zoe calls again.

“You have to come.

Nick’s brother’s band is going to play.

It’ll be so great.

S’il vous plaît?”

Mom
begs
me with her eyes.

Zoe
begs
me with her words.

“Okay.”

Zoe

Cali and I

met Zoe and Jessa

in French class,

freshman year.

We were

grouped together,

and our assignment

was to make

a French dessert

to share with the class.

We went to Zoe’s house

because her dad

is a chef

and he wanted to help us.

Except we were

so giggly

and so here

and there

and everywhere

in the kitchen,

he left us alone

to make our

soufflé au chocolat.

The first one

was a flop

because we burnt

the chocolate.

But Zoe said,

“Like Napoleon,

we will not give up!”

The second time,

we were focused

and worked together,

like soldiers in an army,

battling the double boiler

with all our might.

Our
soufflé au chocolat

turned out

magnifique.

I love a lot of things

about Zoe,

but I especially love

how she doesn’t give up.

Zoe is

très magnifique.

Am I Suited for This?

I pull out the bikini.

The one Jackson bought me.

The one I wore
that
day.

I can’t wear it.

I won’t wear it.

Never

ever

again.

I should throw it away.

But Jackson gave it to me.

It’s the last thing he gave me.

So I’ll keep it.

But I won’t wear it.

I pull out last year’s suit

that’s faded

from the sun

and the chlorine

and not
nearly
as cute

as the black-and-pink one

from Jackson.

Who cares.

It’s not like I’m trying

to look hot

for a guy

or anything.

I’m just going because—

Wait a minute.

Why am I going?

Beauty Everywhere

I sit in the corner

watching

the swimmers

the dancers

the smoochers

the gabbers

the drinkers

the smokers.

“Come in, Ava,” Cali yells from the pool.

“We need you!” Zoe cries.

I raise my drink in the air.

But I don’t move.

I stay right

where I feel

I belong.

The sun starts to set

and tangerine orange

turns to

cotton candy pink

and I wish

my man

Jackson was here

to give me some

cranberry red love.

“Ava,” I hear

in a deep voice

I recognize.

It’s Nick.

Imagine that.

The boy

who won’t leave me

alone.

“Hey,” I say.

“You look lonely over here by yourself.”

I point

to the orange-and-pink sky.

“Isn’t that the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off me.

“Yeah. It is.”

You Can’t Go Back

“So what’s the deal, Nick?

You stalking me?”

He laughs. “No. Just worried about you.

That’s all.”

“Well, please don’t worry about me.

I’m fine.”

I think of Jackson

at home,

where I might see him

again tonight.

I smile.

Wait.

Does Jackson follow me?

Does he know what’s happening here?

Will he be pissed I’m talking to Nick?

No.

I’d feel him if he were here.

Wouldn’t I?

“It’s good to see you,” Nick says.

“I’ve missed you.

I look back and wonder

how I could have been so crazy

to let you go.”

“Let me go?

You cheated on me, Nick.

I cut you loose.”

“So if I got up the nerve to ask you out again,

and promised to be good,

would you even consider saying yes?”

I stand up

and hand him the empty glass.

“Not in a million sunsets, Nick.”