Phantoms of Fall (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 2) (14 page)

Every day that week, I woke up refreshed and feeling
positive—an unusual luxury for me. I flirted with Zach every
chance I got and especially when Misty or any member of her
coven was within earshot. Things were running so smoothly
that I forgot that I was supposed to still be searching for
Creepy Girl’s identity. Unlucky for me, I still had her around
to remind me.

She left me alone until phys ed on Thursday. Coach
Hunter decided to have us run a timed mile. I had no idea
what a good time was but I was pretty sure I could outrun my
competition.
Steam rolling my way around the track, I came
in a full ten seconds before anyone else crossed the finish line.
Coach Hunter seemed very pleased with my performance and
I walked the cool down lap with a smile on my face.
For a
while.

Misty and Jordyn were walking about ten feet behind
me and whispering to each other the whole way. When their
conversation became audible, I knew it was on purpose. They
never mentioned any names, but I didn’t have to be psychic to
know exactly who they were talking about—me.

“She thinks she’s so great, sooo perfect. Whatever—
she obviously doesn’t know who she’s dealing with.” She was
behind my back and out of view but I could clearly visualize
the accompanying sneer on Misty’s face.

“I know, right?” Jordyn agreed with her in obedient
evil minion fashion.

This was followed by a hardcore whisper session and I
strained my ears to make out even one word of it. No such
luck—I was only going to hear what they allowed me to hear.
But still, I was so busy trying to listen in on their conversation
that I didn’t see what was about to happen until it was too
late.

There was
a
flash
of
movement
to my
right and
before I could even turn to see what it was, suddenly it was
right in front of me. A quick vision of Creepy Girl appeared
before me and then instantly vanished.
A cold sensation
ripped through my chest and I was shoved backward onto the
ground.

Laughter rang through my ears as I sat trembling on
the track. My butt hurt from the rough landing and my hands
were cut up by the gravel when I reached out to break my fall.
I wanted to cry but I wouldn’t do it in front of everyone,
especially not Misty. Why did she do it? Why did she push me
down? Was she mad that I didn’t return to the library to
determine her identity?
It was bad enough to deal with
ghosts in the first place, but being attacked in public was
something I could definitely do without.
Misty already had
enough free fodder for her bitch cannon.

Coach Hunter broke up the laughter and made sure I
was okay before sending me back to the locker room a few
minutes early. I thought of it as a sweet bonus because now I
wouldn’t have to shower in front of Misty. But I soon realized
that being alone in that dark locker room wasn’t exactly a
dream come true either.

My plan was to turn on the water, take a ten second
shower, and be dressed before the rest of the class got back.
But that wasn’t exactly what happened. Nope, nowhere near
it.

Just as I was about undress and step inside, the water
turned into a cascading shower of blood. Cold, thick streams
of blood oozed out of the showerhead and onto the tile at my
feet.
I watched in horror as it swirled around and trickled
into the drain. Then one by one, each shower turned on and
spouted the gooey liquid until a river of crimson threatened
to flood the entire room. But when I stepped back out of its
path, the blood took on a life of its own.

Coagulating into a human shaped form, it slithered
and
crept its
way
across
the
tile with
a rasping
gurgle
erupting from its throat. Panic. I couldn’t let that
thing
touch
me! What was I going to do? I couldn’t let anyone see what
was happening!
With every inch it crawled, I backed slowly
away from it. Its slimy hands reached out to me and the noise
it made sounded like death itself.
The voices outside grew
rapidly louder.
I was about to get caught with my darkest
secret.

Pinned against the lockers, I had nowhere else to go.
The hand extended upward toward my face.
Just as it was
about to touch me, I closed my eyes and emitted a highpitched scream—a scream
that masked the sound of the
doors opening but not the laughter that followed. Who could
possibly see this scene and find humor in it? For real, even
Misty couldn’t be
that
mentally twisted.

I opened my eyes and saw Misty and Jordyn laughing
so hard they were nearly doubled over. The bloody beast was
gone and the floor showed no trace of its existence. The only
strange thing left was me cowering against the lockers and
screaming like a banshee.

“When Zach sees what a freak you are, you’ll be
history. Enjoy it while it lasts—because in the end, he’ll be
mine,” Misty sneered at me. “And you’ll be alone.”

Her words hit the mark more accurately than she
could know. Freak. I heard that word at my old school back
in Trinity more times than I wanted to recall.
Back then, I
didn’t even deserve it. But now.… What if she was right?
What if Zach saw this for himself and decided it was more
than he could handle? Then I really would be…alone. That
was the one thing I feared more than any stupid ghost.

Pushing her remark to the back of my mind, I changed
as fast as humanly possible and ran to Coach Hunter’s office.

“Would it be okay if I skipped the track tonight? I’m
pretty sore from falling.” At least getting
pushed down
provided me with a good excuse for not staying after school.
But dodging practice had nothing to do with my accident
during class and everything to do with avoiding the locker
room until I had a chance to identify Creepy Girl.

“No problem. Are you sure you’re okay, though? You
look really pale—like you’ve just seen a ghost,” she said with
an innocent little giggle.

Ha ha. Really funny. L O freakin’ L. I knew she had no
way of knowing how right she was, but I wasn’t even
remotely in the mood for it. “I’m fine,” I mumbled as the bell
rang, freeing me from my latest glimpse at Hell. “See you
tomorrow, Coach Hunter.”

I took one last look at the shower before I walked out.
Creepy Girl was standing in the middle of it with her hands
clasped tightly around her own neck.
As much as I loved
helping Zach with his math homework, I decided right then
and there to hit the library first thing in the morning. I had to
stop the haunting before things got any worse.
Little did I
know—she was just getting started.

13. Keep Your Friends Close, But Take
Your Enemy Shopping

Zach was disappointed—I knew that. When I told him
I wanted to spend activity period in the library, he looked
confused but started to gather his things. When I told him I
wanted to go alone, he looked like I’d just knifed him straight
in his heart.
I understood how he felt—really I did.
All I
wanted out of this life was to spend as much time with him as
possible.
But until I got rid of my little problem, that just
wasn’t a viable option and neither was telling him the truth.
So I gathered up my stuff and left my Norse god behind me for
what I hoped would be the last time.

The library was stuffy like before but this time it was
empty except for the librarian. At least today I wouldn’t have
to waste any time searching for what I needed.
I took the
same table by the window and dove right in. But volume after
volume, I came away empty handed. In a town this small, I
never thought there would be so many memorials to search
through. I found student deaths by the handfuls but none of
them matched my stalker and none of the deaths occurred at
the school.

By
the time I finished the 2009 yearbook, I was
depressed.
Who could she be and how would I find her
identity? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she wasn’t connected to
the school at all.
But where else would I start looking? As I
replaced the last book on the shelf, I noticed something odd.
Each year they alternated colors between black and red but
two books back to back were the same color.
Upon closer
inspection, I realized why. One book was missing—1990.

Based on the way she was dressed, the 1990 yearbook
sounded like a good guess as to where I might find her. But
where was the missing book?
As unpleasant as she was, I
decided to ask the librarian for an answer.

Ms. Wright sat at her desk wrapped in the ugliest
green sweater this side of the bargain basement clearance
racks. Her expression was sour and I almost lost my nerve
when she looked up from her book.

“Did you see another mouse?” she asked sarcastically.

 

Gulp. She remembered me from the other day—just
what I
wasn’t
hoping for. “No, I have a question about a book.”

 

“Oh,” she replied, becoming slightly less surly. “What
do you need?”

 

“I was looking for a yearbook—1990 to be exact—but
it’s not on the shelf with the others. Where would I find it?”

And back to the sarcasm. “Between 1989 and 1991.”
It was great to know that my parents’ tax dollars were buying
me such an excellent educational experience.

“I know, but it’s not there,” I replied as politely as I
possibly could considering her smarmy attitude.

“Well, then one of your classmates must have stolen
it,” she said as she wrapped her bony fingers around a pen
and began tapping it impatiently on her desk.

She made no effort to get up and help me and made it
obvious that our conversation was over. I would have to find
that yearbook some other way. But how? Why couldn’t these
stupid
ghosts
just
come
up
and
introduce
themselves
anyway? “Hi, I’m dead and you can see me therefore you
must help me. If you give me a moment, I will explain in detail
who I am and what I need from you.
It would be much
appreciated.” Ghosts—they
were
the
one
thing
more
complicated and frustrating than boys.

I don’t know how I made it through the day without
screaming from that frustration—and not just because of the
ghost. My big date with Zach was set for next Friday and the
closer that day got, the more excited I became. I loved him so
much and I just couldn’t wait for our big moment together.
We hadn’t had any real time alone since he got grounded and
that just compounded my excitement.
My only consolation
was knowing that it would be more than worth the wait.

We only had a few minutes together at the end of the
day so we made the most of them.
Sharing a quick yet
incredibly intense kiss at our cars, I got behind the wheel
feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. Until I looked up and
saw Misty staring down at me from the second floor window
by
the gym.
She didn’t just look pissed—she
looked
dangerous. And more danger was the
last
thing I needed.

Chloe invited me to go to the football game with her
that night but I declined. I wasn’t ready to spend time with so
many classmates around without Zach or Rachel by my side—
especially not with Misty on the prowl.
So I stayed home
alone instead, brainstorming on how to find a way to get my
hands
on that 1990 yearbook.
When I came
up empty
handed, I went to my parents for help.

Shelly
and
Dad
were
downstairs
relaxing
in
the
conservatory when I found them.
Now that all of the glass
panes were replaced and a new stairway installed, it was
almost back to normal.
Shelly and Rachel found a set of
burgundy
settees
that suited the
room
perfectly
and
my
parents were now lounging comfortably in them. The statue
of Scarlet was my only reminder of what happened there only
weeks ago. I walked over to join them, never letting that thing
out of my sight.

“There’s something I have to ask you.” It came out
more ominous than I intended and I saw the shared look of
panic on their faces. Knowing my dad, he probably thought I
was going to ask what the first signs of pregnancy were. And
knowing Shelly, she was scrambling to think of a way to calm
him down when I did.

“What’s wrong,
Ruby?
You
can talk to us
about
anything.” Dad’s words said one thing but his face suggested
an entirely different story. It was obvious he wasn’t ready for
his little girl to grow up.
Too bad—because that was exactly
what his little girl was prepared to do.

“I was looking for a yearbook in the library and
they’re missing the one I need. Where else would I be able to
find it?”

A collective sigh of relief rose from the settees. “What
year are you looking for?
I still have my old ones here
somewhere.”

“No good, Dad,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m looking
for 1990.
Do you know anyone in town who went to school
that year?”

“No, sorry, I don’t. That was a little after my time.”
Once the initial relief of my question wore off, he became
worried again. “Why do you need it?”

Quick—come up with an excuse. “I’m writing a story
for AP English and I wanted to see what was happening at the
school that year.”

My explanation worked. “Can’t you just use another
year?” Shelly asked.

I forgot how good she was at solving mysteries. But as
good as she was, by this time, I was a practiced liar. Not that I
was proud of that fact or anything, but it was still a skill that
came in handy sometimes. “No, we were all assigned different
years so I can’t switch.”