I'd Rather Not Be Dead (16 page)

Part of me wants to turn his
offer down just to spite him, but I seem to have moved away from
doing things simply to annoy Cooper Finnegan. Is it maturity,
practicality, or just lack of caring? Whichever, it's not like it'd
bother him that much for me to leave and I'd be much happier
staying in a house I was invited into, in a bed that exists, in a
place where no one's likely to sit on me as I sleep.

With a little yawn, I sit up.
“Cooper Finnegan, are you asking me to move in with you?”

His smile is faint, and maybe a
hair melancholy. “I was thinking you could stay in my sister's
room.”

“Oh...” I draw the syllable out
slowly. “In that case, please?”

Nodding, he moves toward the
door. “It's right downstairs.” He hesitates a second before leaving
the room. “My mom...”

“She's a medium,” I finish.
“Glory told me.” Then I remember what else Glory said about that.
“But she can't see me?”

Finn's eyes shift as he puts his
answer together. “She takes pills. They block most of it. But they
aren't perfect. And...” He run a hand through his hair and gives me
a tired look. “Sometimes she forgets to take them. If she notices
you, just tell her you're a friend of mine. Don't mention the whole
Shadow thing. Please?”

“Of course.” It's not until
we're heading down the stairs that I realize I just agreed to pose
as his friend without even making a snarky comment. Even more
bizarre, the word's seeming accurate. Weird.

The first door in the hallway
goes to a room filled with books. “So one of you knows how to
read?” I ask, wanting to feel more like myself.

He tosses a wink at me. “Nah, we
use the books to build mazes for the ferrets.”

“That explains all the gnawed
spines.”

The door across from the library
is closed. “Mom's,” Finn says with a nod to it before opening the
last door on the left and taking a step into the room. “I hope
these accommodations will be acceptable.” He smiles at me when I
follow him into the room.

He stops smiling when I start
falling.

“Drew!” The voice comes to me
through the ceiling as I lay on my front in the middle of the teddy
bears' living room. My palms sting and my forehead hurts where it
banged into the floor.

Finn comes crashing down the
stairs and barrels into the room, flipping on the light so he can
see. His eyes fly straight for me. “Drew?”

“There's no floor in that room.”
Feeling smart for figuring that out, I roll onto my back and sit up
while Finn gapes down at me. “I'm fine, Finn.”

“You sure?” His eyes bounce
around my face, taking in all of it but not looking at any one bit
for more than an instant. He looks like he's honestly worried, like
he wouldn't happily push me off a cliff. He really seems to like me
today.

“I'm dead,” I remind him. “You
think falling one story's going to hurt me?”

“I don't know... Did it?”

“I just said it didn't, you
moron.” But I'm smiling at him while he helps me to my feet.

We look at each other for a few
heartbeats, then, at the same time, our heads tilt and we look up
at the ceiling.

“I can see it,” I say. “My house
doesn't exist in Shadow and it has this weird shimmer to it.
There's no weird shimmer here.”

“Just a floor that you fall
through...”

“Right.”

Clearing his throat, Finn takes
a step backward. “Guess you don't want to stay in my sister's room
then.”

“Or she doesn't want me staying
in there.” That's a disturbing idea... My eyes slide from the
ceiling to Finn. “Can you do that? Take something that should be in
Shadow and make it not real here?”

“Don't know.” He glances up
again, a frown drawing unfamiliar lines in his face. “Mom can't or
the whole house would be that way.”

A shiver dances up my spine and
Finn gives me a softly apologetic smile. “I wouldn't let her do
that with you here,” he says.

“I'm surprised you're not
calling your sister to find out how to get rid of me,” I admit.

His eyes roll, then look
directly into mine. “That's because you're an idiot.”

My chest is tight, making
breathing difficult. “Guess so.”

My response leaves him at a
temporary loss for words. Guess I'm not the only one wading through
confusion tonight.

Eventually, he recovers. “Drew
McKinney, would you like to move in with me?”

I stare at him until he looks
away. “It's not a good idea for you to stay out here. Mom would
notice eventually. But she never goes into my room.”

“I'm thinking.” Taking time to
mull the idea over, I turn to walk to the window and try to look
out. I was right the other night, you can't see the sidewalk from
here with the lights on.

The whole homeless thing's
gotten seriously old. Crashing in random living rooms isn't any fun
and staying outside... There's something about it that bothers me
even though I don't feel the cold or the wind. People are supposed
to be in homes, and while I may be dead, I'm still a person.

Finn waits for me, looks
passively back when I turn to study his expression. “How long do
you mean?” I ask.

The question seems to throw him
and his finger comb back his hair as he thinks about it. “I don't
know... How long do you want to stay?”

Sighing, I shake my head.
Staying here would get way too sitcom way too fast. “I think I
should go.”

He doesn't try to stop me, but
when I grasp the front door handle, it won't turn. “I don't seem to
have the energy.”

“Then allow me, my lady.”
Smiling and not seeming at all upset to see me go, Finn moves
around me to pull the door open.

It opens easily. But when I try
to walk out, it's like the door's still closed.

“What's wrong? Did you change
your mind?”

“I can't leave.” I push against
the invisible barrier.

“Don't panic.” Finn puts his
hand beside mine, sticking it out into the night air. “No one
helped you get out last time, right?”

“No.” I slam both palms against
the transparent wall. “The only difference is I was pissed off
then.”

“So wait five minutes.”

If I wasn't so annoyed, I'd
laugh at that.

“It's the frigging Shadow Lord.
Why does he want to mess with me?” I look out into the dark and
scream, “Don't you have anything better to do?”

“What are you talking about?”
Finn asks. “What's The Shadow Lord been doing?”

After one last bang on the
barrier I go sit on the stairs, Finn shifting to track my movement.
“The other night, I was at Cris's house...” My eyes avert from the
change in Finn's expression when the name is mentioned. “I woke up
knowing someone was watching me through the window and that he
wanted me to go outside.”

“And you did it?” Without
looking away from me, he swings the door closed. “Doesn't sound
like you.”

My lips curve in acknowledgment.
“No, it doesn't. But I knew he'd follow me if I ran and he'd just
keep bothering me if I stayed, so I went. And he wasn't there. But
once I got into the yard, I couldn't get back inside.”

“Same type barrier?”

I nod. “Exactly the same.”

Studying the doorway, Finn folds
his arms. The fingers of his right hand start to tap against his
left bicep. “You're sure it's The Shadow Lord?”

Until he asked that, I was. “Who
else would it be?” I'll ignore asking who else would have a motive,
since I have no idea what The Shadow Lord's would be. But, “Who
else would have the power?”

“Most shadows play their power
close to their vest,” Finn says as he steps toward me. His face
wrinkles slightly with a thoughtful frown. “It could be any of the
older ones. And while The Shadow Lord doesn't seem to have a
motive, maybe they would.” His eyes meet mine. “What about
Fray?”

“Fray?” I can't help laughing.
“Why would Fray do that?”

“Could be jealous of Cris.”

The laughter gets louder before
I can control it and make any attempt at speaking. “No. One hundred
percent certain that answer is no.”

Finn's watching me very closely
but I don't elaborate for him. None of his business that Fray would
hardly be jealous of anyone considering I'd thrown myself at him
and he'd shot me down.

“Besides, jealously can't be the
motive,” I argue. “It wouldn't make sense to lock me in here if it
was.”

“Right...”

I swallow, dropping my eyes to
the carpet, which continues to be just as pink as it was a few
hours ago. “So, if the offer still stands, I suppose I would like
to move in with you.”

“Right...”

Making myself look up, I meet
Finn's eyes. The colors fight for dominance in them. “But I get the
couch.”

I hold my hand out and Finn
shakes it while the edges of his mouth try to roll up. “Deal.”

Chapter Sixteen

Silence accompanies us back up
the stairs, broken only when Juliet hears us and starts her
clucking. The lean line of sable fur really does sound like a
chicken. “Hey, there, Poultry Girl,” I tell her. She tilts her head
and gives me a strange look before making a running leap at Finn's
leg.

He winces at the nails that dive
into his skin, but it's obvious he likes the devoted attention.
Finn wouldn't handle my state very well. It'd drive him nuts for no
one to notice him.

With Juliet hanging around his
shoulders, he grabs a pillow from his bed and tosses it onto the
sofa for me. He looks around quickly and finds a fuzzy black
blanket with little skulls printed on it, then drapes it over the
couch.

The gesture makes me want to cry
again. It isn't just that he thought to give me the blanket, even
though that's sweet of him. It isn't that the blanket is more 'me'
than anything I would have hoped to find anywhere near Cooper
Finnegan, adding weight to my growing suspicion that there's a lot
more to the guy than I've ever noticed. It's also the simple fact
that I haven't slept with a blanket since the morning I woke up
dead.

Finn gets the reason for my
expression wrong and says, “I'll find out what's going on. First
thing in the morning, I'll start asking around. Someone will know
how to get you out of here.”

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“I'm really sorry, Drew.”

Puzzled, I move from staring at
my makeshift bed to peering at Finn. At first I think he's back to
the Cris thing, but he looks even guiltier than when he was
apologizing over that. “What do you mean?”

His eyes aren't meeting mine. “I
know you don't want to be stuck with me. I'm sorry.”

I watch him as he starts to
shepherd the ferrets into their house for the night. “It's not your
fault you're my Place of Power. Or that I can't leave. Is it?”

“No, of course not.” Locking the
cage door, he turns back toward me, but still doesn't look at me.
“I'm going to get ready for bed.”

“Alright.”

While he gathers things and goes
into the bathroom, I lay down on his couch, pulling the skull
blanket up over me. I half-expect to need to use energy to keep it
over me, which would mean I'd sleep on it instead of under it, but
it rests there just like a blanket would cover a girl who was in
the same realm it was. I snuggle into the pillow and close my eyes,
happier than I would ever admit to be sleeping somewhere
comfortable.

Behind me, I hear Finn come back
into the room. He murmurs something to Romeo and Juliet, then walks
toward me. And he stands there for a long time, watching me, before
at last whispering, “Good night, Drew.”

He turns off the lights and
climbs into the bed above me and for hours I lay still, trying to
sleep but uber-aware of the boy in the room with me. Every little
move, every creak of his mattress, every deep breath he takes seems
to echo in the night. When I finally manage to lose consciousness,
I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasts right up until
someone punches me in the gut.

“Juliet!” Finn stage-whispers,
his footsteps rushing near.

Dimly, I realize no one punched
me. I was merely the victim of an overzealous ferret. My eyes slide
up to meet her bright gaze. The fuzzy seems rather proud of
herself.

Finn makes it to the edge of my
vision. “Sorry. Thought I had her.” He's fully dressed, sporting a
slightly stained Finnegan's Hardware shirt. There's a clump of
paint in hisrumpled hair, a bright blue that stands out boldly
against the blond.

I squint at his clock and see
it's shortly after seven. I assume from the lack of light coming in
around the blinds it's the seven that comes in the evening.

“I think it's past time I woke
up anyway.” Running a hand through Juliet's fur, I wrinkle my nose
at her. She touches hers to mine, then jumps off toward the tennis
ball peaking out from under Finn's desk, her mission here
accomplished. With a pang, I think of Miss Whiskers, who pounced me
awake many a time, but always did it in the interests of obtaining
breakfast. She never did it just to see me conscious. Clearly,
ferrets are more evil than cats.

“You really sleep all day?” my
roommate asks, rolling the chair out from under his desk and
straddling it. Resting his arms on the chair back, he watches me
with mild concern. “You feel okay?”

“Do ghosts get sick?” I ask,
rolling onto my side and not feeling at all like getting up.

“I don't think so.” A frown
creases his forehead.

“Then I was just tired,” I say,
putting an arm under my pillow. “I haven't quite figured out when I
need sleep. I keep passing out.”

“I've noticed.” He looks at me
until the length of our silence seems ridiculous. The ferrets are
batting the tennis ball back and forth but they don't get so much
as a glance from their human, even when Romeo smacks right into his
foot.

“Did you talk to anyone?” I
ask.

Finn blinks, startled out of
what must have been an incredibly deep thought. “I don't suppose
you mean the people at school? Maybe the guys at work?”