Spirits of Spring (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 4) (30 page)

“Coach Hunter, someone switched shirts on me—
probably while we were on the bus.” That girl sitting behind
me was most likely the culprit.
That made me feel even more
stupid for that dumb hocus pocus routine I pulled on her. “I’m
sure that Misty was at the root of it all but I think she got
someone else to put this into my bag. I’m wearing it as an act of
defiance. I’m not going to let her get the best of me—not
completely anyway.”

Coach Hunter slapped her hand against her forehead in
exasperation. “As much as I admire your spirit, Ruby, I still
can’t let you wear it. It could be construed as religiously
offensive. That’s not the kind of impression I can allow any of
my girls to portray. Take it off and I’ll find you something else
to wear.”

There was a first time for everything and this was a
monumental one for me. I was about to buck authority more
than I ever had before. “No, I’m not taking it off.”

Coach Hunter was speechless. Dumbfounded. On one
hand she probably wanted to sentence me to a week’s worth of
detention the minute we set foot back into our own school. On
the other, she more than likely wanted to give me a hearty fist
bump. When she finally spoke, it wasn’t what I was expecting
to hear.

“That day in the locker room shower—you know which
day I’m talking about—that wasn’t because you’re afraid of
water, was it?”

I inhaled deeply and allowed my answer to flow out as
easily as I allowed the air to then escape my lungs. “No, it
wasn’t. I was in the middle of a supernatural attack. And Misty
Landrum had the audacity to film it and distribute it like it was
nothing more than some disgusting amateur porn.” There, I
said it. I told the truth and it felt
damn
good.

“I see.”

I could all but visualize the internal struggle she was
having over this issue. She knew that I was right in wanting to
wear the shirt but she still wasn’t willing to let me do it. But
that’s how bullies like Misty get away with the dirty tricks they
pull. They hover so close to the line between what’s acceptable
and what isn’t then force their victims to be the ones to actually
cross it. Maybe I would feel different once my ass was sitting in
detention, but at this moment, I was willing to do whatever it
took to stand up for myself.

Suddenly, Coach Hunter got a gleam in her eye. “I have
the answer! Wait right here while I go find the Gargoyles’
coach.”

I waited like she asked me to, praying that I wouldn’t be
disappointed with the outcome.
When I caught sight of her
striding across the locker room with a roll of duct tape in her
hand, I knew exactly what she had in mind.

“As long as we cover up the virgin part, that’s all I’m
concerned about,” she said as she ripped off a piece of tape with
her teeth and slapped it onto the back of my shirt. Once she
had that part concealed from view, I started to follow the rest of
the girls out to the track. “Wait! Don’t you want a few more
pieces of tape for the front?”

“Nope, It’s fine just the way it is,” I replied. Holding my
head high, I joined Rachel and we sauntered off together like
bosses.

Unfortunately, that was my most triumphant moment
of the day. I came in third at the 100 meter race. Despite Clay’s
fierce urging for me to run faster, it just wasn’t happening.
Those girls from Graysburg were
fast
.
But at least I walked
away feeling like I had done my best. The relay was a whole
different story—one whose ending I wished I could rewrite.

We won the race but I had nothing to do with that
victory.
In fact, if I had been a casual observer, I would have
betted that I was trying to lose the race on purpose. Graysburg
got off to a terrible start when their first runner tripped and
fell.
By the time she picked herself up and made it to the
handoff, Jordyn was already passing the torch to Misty. When I
saw how much of a lead we had, I got confident. Too confident.

Misty’s handoff was as flawless as I could have asked
for. For once, she didn’t even try to taunt me. No threats, no
humiliating nicknames—nothing.
As much as I still despised
her, she was actually trying to be a team player and so was I.
The
baton was
firmly
in
my
grasp
but unfortunately, luck
wasn’t. I must have been holding it too close to my body
because after only a few steps forward, it got caught on my
shirt and the forward momentum of my body caused it to go
flying out of my hand. I tried hard not to panic. I knew we still
had a very good lead but the anxiety of knowing that if we lost
it would be my fault got the better of me. As I rushed to pick it
up, the toe of my shoe got to it a mere millisecond before my
fingers did. Was I the first person in the history of the event to
not only drop but also
kick
the baton? Probably not but it sure
felt like I was.

I watched helplessly as it rolled out of my lane and
completely off of the track. As I rushed to grab it, I could hear
both Rachel and Clay cheering me on. But I could also hear the
groans
of
my
less
supportive
teammates
and
the
fast
approaching footsteps of my opponent. I fought the urge to run
straight off
of the track
and
keep running
until I reached
Charlotte’s Grove. But of course, I didn’t. I
couldn’t
. I had to
finish what I started or face even worse torment. In the end, I
crossed the finish line barely a tenth of a second before my
opponent did. It wasn’t a pretty win, but it was still a win. And
at the moment, that was all that mattered to me.

I closed my eyes and kept my head down for the entire
ride home. I waited until I was in the sanctity of my own room
before breaking down and crying. Clay sat there on the futon
with me looking helpless.
Nothing he or anyone else could say
would make me feel any better about my day. Nobody. What
crushed me the most was the fact that it seemed like every time
I had the courage to stand up to Misty, Fate would promptly
knock me right back down.

Once I finally pushed the whole thing to the back of my
mind, another unpleasant thought popped in. Tomorrow was
the day that I had to confront Zach about telling Mrs. Roseman
my secret. Just like so many that had come before it, tomorrow
was going to be a long day.
In fact, the road ahead of me was
paved with long days—I just didn’t know it yet.

19. Showered with Doubt
“Ruby! Wake up!”

Clay’s panicked command cut forcefully through the
veil of sleep, rousing me from an unnaturally deep state of
slumber. I’d been plagued by sleep issues for nearly a year but
insomnia was my usual complaint—waking up was never a
problem for me. Until now, it seems.

“What’s wrong?” I asked groggily as I worked to bring
my brain back to a state of full consciousness. From the way he
was screaming at me, I half expected the house to be on fire.
But once I coaxed my eyes open enough to look around the
room, nothing seemed amiss. “What’s
wrong
, Clay?” I repeated
irritably.
He was
going
to need a damn
good
reason for
disturbing the most peaceful night of sleep I’d had in a long
time.

“Oh, thank God you’re alive, Ruby!” Clay said as he
collapsed onto my bed in relief.

While his
words
were ominous
and
caused me to
question what had happened while I was asleep, they weren’t
the strangest thing about my rude awakening.
When Clay
plopped down onto the mattress beside me, I felt it give slightly
under his…weight. Normal wasn’t something I was used to but
this was too abnormal for me to handle especially first thing in
the morning.

“Clay! Did you feel that?” But again, I already knew
what his response would be.
I was looking straight at him
when I felt the trembling beneath me and his expression never
changed.
He felt nothing and that scared me more than the
actual incident had. Something just wasn’t right here but I was
the only one who noticed it.

“I don’t know what you felt but I felt nothing. But I bet
that it has something to do with the dream you had. The dream
we
had.”

My
mind went directly
to my
biggest dream
fear
regarding him and me. “Clay, you and I
better
not have been
making the bed move in my dream, too! And if we were, you
better have stopped it the instant it started!
You promised me
that you would!”

I watched as his face turned a bright shade of pink and
he denied that anything
like that happened in
my—
our
—
dream.
He quickly raised his fingers and gave a resounding
“Scout’s Honor.”

Eliciting that kind of reaction from a bad boy like him
meant only one thing—he was telling me the truth. So my next
question was obvious. “What
did
I dream about?”

“Um, well,” he stuttered awkwardly while obviously
avoiding eye contact with me.

“Clay! Tell me what the dream was about! Even on my
best days, I
hate
suspense. Don’t even think about playing that
game with me now!”

I overlooked his mumbled “Yes, dominatrix” and briefly
marveled at the fact that he seemed to think I didn’t hear it.
There was something about this mixture of innocence and
sheer stupidity that I found charming. It reminded me of the
time that Zach tried to send me mental signals thinking that it
would actually work. Boys. Why couldn’t they all be as sweetly
frustrating as Zach and Clay?

Once he
raised his
voice and
finally answered my
question, I wished that I could stuff the words back into his
mouth and deny them another triumphant exit. “In your
dream, you died.
You were given a choice between life and
death and you chose death. I was afraid that you weren’t going
to wake up. Ever.”

Mentally, I started to shut down right then and there.
Clay offered to talk about it with me but I refused angrily and
stomped off into the bathroom instead.
As hard as I tried to
erase the emerging thoughts entering my brain, the harder and
faster they seemed to come. Why didn’t I remember the dream
myself? Why was I able to feel Clay’s presence more concretely
than I ever had before? And why couldn’t he feel it himself?
The longer I knew him, the more alive he felt to me.
Or was it
the exact
opposite
—was I growing closer and closer to death?

I stood there in the shower and cried. But with those
tears came a decision—the decision to keep my fears a secret.
At least for now. I wasn’t ready to hear the answer to what was
happening to me.
And the thought of sending anyone else into
a deep, slow panic because of it wasn’t an appealing concept
either. Now was the perfect time to don a golden metaphorical
headdress
and
play
like
Cleopatra.
Introducing
Ruby
Matthews, the new reigning queen of denial.

As I climbed into that ugly green SUV, I gave Zach the
best fake smile I had.
I still needed to confront him about
exposing my secret to Mrs. Roseman, but there were obviously
bigger issues on my mind.
This unremembered dream thing
was yet another dead albatross to wear around my neck like a
gruesome fashion bauble. I was so out of sorts when I woke up
that I even forgot about one other very important thing I
wanted to try to get done today—locate Sophie Wester. Now
more than ever, the bond between Clay and I needed to be
broken.

I struggled
to make small talk with Zach but my
emotional distance was obvious. When he asked me what was
wrong, my mouth opened up like a festering wound and my
anger oozed out effortlessly.

“Why did you tell Mrs. Roseman that I was in contact
with Clay? Never mind—I know exactly why you did it. But
answer me
this—did
it
not even
occur
to you that
your
insecurity could put me in danger?
I know that you’re still
upset about how torn I was between you and Lucas, but Clay
may have been murdered. And if so, his killer won’t be very
happy to find out that I’m well acquainted with his victim.”

A wide range of emotions flashed across his face as I
delivered my
poisonous
monologue.
When he
opened his
mouth in defense, I had no idea which one of them he was going
to fling back at me as a weapon. As it turned out, he focused on
the least important matter at hand, the one thing that I was
least prepared to deal with.

“I
knew
it!” he shouted back at me angrily. “I
knew
that
no matter what you said, you were struggling to make the
decision between us. After all of those times that you insisted
that you didn’t have feelings for him,
now
you decide to admit
that you were lying. Why couldn’t you have just told me the
truth?”

“Look, Zach, reminding me of my mistakes isn’t going to
make me forget about yours!
Lots of people know about my
ghost connections but very few know about my connection to
Clay specifically.
You
told her. Now I need a good explanation
for
why
you did it.”

“I didn’t tell her a single thing,” he said with a slight hint
of sarcasm in his voice. “Just like you didn’t tell me a single
thing about wanting Lucas as more than just a friend.”

Sarcasm, anger, and hurt aside, he sounded like he was
telling me the truth. This wasn’t the outcome I was hoping
for—not even close to it. How could they all be telling me the
truth?
I never discussed Clay with Lucas in detail.
If he were
going to expose every ounce of my secrets, all of the ghosts I’d
encountered would have been flung back in my face by now—
not just this particular one.
Out of all of those ghosts, he was
the one that never posed any kind of threat to my life and was
therefore not necessary to discuss.
So if everyone who did
know about him hadn’t told his grandmother, how in the world
did she figure it out? Regardless of the answer, I didn’t want to
fight with him while Clay was in the backseat—especially since
Zach didn’t know that he was there.