The Guidance (6 page)

"Did you pop her one?"

This time I do laugh. "I wish. Fortunately, Ms. Pritchard saw what she was doing and gave her the stink eye. After that, we worked on the to-do list the teacher gave us. Do you know how hard it is to sit with someone you're supposed to be teamed up with if she won't even carry on a decent, normal convo with you?"

"I'm sorry, Kendall." Jason hugs me again, crushing me to him with his protectiveness. "I'm sorry I can't do anything other than stand up for you."

Jason's definitely the shielding type. Alpha male, all the way. He does this for his sister, Taylor, because their dad left them and moved away to Alaska to be a park ranger. I can see why Jason wants to take care of Taylor so much; their mom is sort of reliving her twenties, and it's left Jason as the unofficial head of the household. A lot to ask of a seventeen-year-old guy who just wants to play basketball, run track, and hang with his girlfriend. I admire the hell out of him for all he's doing to keep his family knit together.

"You don't need to fight my battles for me," I say. "Even though Courtney is your ex and I'm sure most of her hatred stems from the fact that we're together." The tears well in my eyes again, blurring the image of Jason before me. God, when did I become such a weak female? I lean against the driver's side of the Jeep, not wanting anyone to see me. I'd be totally ripped if Courtney or any of her flock witnessed me close to tears. I don't ever want that little bitch to know she's gotten to me.

"Hey, y'all." I hear a familiar voice from behind us.

Jason moves in front of me, then relaxes and waves. "Yo, Nichols, Price."

Celia Nichols bounds up with Clay Price in tow. He's a cutie pie in his own right, and he and Celia make
the
most adorable couple. They're both nerdy and geeky in a completely endearing way.

"What's up?" Clay asks.

"Oh, you know," I say, steadying my voice. Sure, Celia's my best friend, but I know she'd read me the riot act for getting upset over Courtney. "I've barely seen you today, Celia. How ya doin'?"

"I'm hangin' in like a hair in a biscuit," she says, her grin stretching from ear to ear.

I can't help but screw up my face. "A what? Eww..."

Clay hugs her to him and ruffles her bobbed black hair.

Jason squints into the glaring sun. "What are y'all so happy about?"

"I just saw Principal Trumbell talking to Courtney in the office," Celia reports. "He had a finger in her face. I think he was giving her what for about the applesauce incident."

I dab my knuckle in the corner of my eye to make sure my mascara hasn't run. Phew! Good to go. "I don't want to talk about Courtney anymore."

Celia agrees. "She's not worth your breath. Besides, I got an e-mail today from this guy in Riverdale and he wants us to do an investigation of his barn the Friday after this. Says something's spooking his cows. I was thinking we could try out the new trifield meter that I got from
Ghost-Mart.com
, as well as the K2 meter that's been showing promise as a divination device, using lights for yes and no answers—"

"No way," Jason says, looking at Celia and then at me. "You promised, Kendall."

I bite my bottom lip. "No ghost hunting that weekend, Celia. We're going to the football game that Friday night with our boyfriends, and then we're going to the bowling alley like normal high school juniors."

Jason grunts his approval next to me.

Celia seems disappointed. "But ... I just got this new meter and I wanted to—"

"Nope," I interrupt. "Normal. Teen. Agers."

Clay bumps Celia with his hip. "So, I'm really your boyfriend?"

She rolls her eyes, first at him and then at me. "Whatever."

Jason and I laugh while Clay wraps his arms around her tall skinny body. "You like me! You like me!"

Celia's knocked off balance by his playfulness. "Oh my God. Grow up, Clay!"

He smacks a big wet kiss on her neck and that settles her down. I love seeing them together, and I'm happy that Celia's got someone who understands and appreciates her just the way she is. It makes me feel less guilty for having a boyfriend of my own.

Looking at Jason and me, Clay shakes his head. "Man, what were you thinking, dating Courtney Langdon?"

"Yeah, seriously, Tillson," Celia chimes in.

"Cut me some slack," he says. "She actually used to be sort of nice. She's just high maintenance, you know? Her parents both travel a lot and she doesn't have much parental guidance on matters."

Celia flattens her lips together. "And now Kendall's getting the attention you used to give her. And a majority of the school and the town are giving our ghost-huntress group more recognition, and I bet it's eating Courtney alive."

I snort. "If that's true, then the girl sincerely needs to get over herself."

Jason squeezes me again. "I'll make her get over it if I have to."

"Speak of the devil...," Celia says, looking behind me.

My pulse begins to speed up at the idea of another melee with Courtney. I'm just not strong enough for it right now. But my intuition tells me it's not my nemesis, so I pivot to see which one of her cheerleading minions is approaching.

Stephanie Crawford smiles shyly, shielding her eyes from the sun with her left hand. "I know we don't really know each other, but can I, like, talk to you, Kendall?"

I turn my head in either direction at my friends. "We don't have any secrets from each other."

"Sure, that's cool. I can respect that."

I brace for more RHS snottiness from one of the ruling princesses, but instead, Stephanie offers an apology.

"I'm really sorry about what Courtney did to you at lunch today. That was classless," she says.

I reach out toward her with my feelings to make sure she's for real. Her large hazel eyes sparkle genuinely to match her smile. Her shoulder-length goldy-brown hair is pulled away from her face with a rhinestone headband, and she's nervously awaiting my response. Her spirit seems honest, true, kind, and trustworthy, and it makes me wonder why someone like Stephanie hangs out with a skank like Courtney.

As if reading my mind, Stephanie says, "I wouldn't blame you for hating me for associating with Courtney. She and I aren't even that tight. We're just cheerleaders together. I don't follow along with everything she does like some other people do."

I give her a smile of my own. "The applesauce incident wasn't your fault, Stephanie. You have nothing to apologize for. But in any case, it's proper of you. Thanks."

She appears to be quite relieved when she reaches a tanned arm out to me, her hand extended. "I'd like to be friends."

Celia shifts her eyes from Stephanie to me, and I can tell she's wondering what the catch might be. There is no catch. Stephanie truly wants to make peace. I take her hand and shake it up and down a couple of times. Very grown-up of us. Then Jason holds out his fist to her and she bumps his back.

"Cool," she says, letting out a long breath. "I wanted to tell you that I believe in your abilities. Especially after what you did to help find my grandfather. I'd never have the guts to go on a ghost investigation or anything like that."

I crease my eyebrows together. "Your grandfather?"

Celia knocks me with her elbow. "Delaney Lockhart ... remember?"

"Oh! Your grandfather! Right. That was a hard case. I'm glad we were able to help your grandmother," I say.

Stephanie's face lights up at my recognition. "She was so appreciative," Stephanie says with her hand to her heart, and I know she means it. "Y'all'll have to come to the memorial service on Sunday at McWhorter's Funeral Home."

"That would be nice," I say. Part of me worries about what I'll encounter at a funeral home. Will it be full of lost souls wanting my help?

Stephanie's eyes are open wide, vivid with life all of a sudden. "Hey, I've got a great idea! Kendall, why don't you do psychic readings at my Halloween party? My mother raved about the one you did for her, and it would be awesome to have something like that."

Quickly, I put two and two together and remember the lovely woman from Loreen's shop. "Oh, right. You're Evelyn Crawford's daughter." Man, I should have seen the resemblance.

"That's my mom! Would you be willing to do that for me?"

I glance at Celia and then over my shoulder at Jason, who shrugs his approval. "Why not? That'll be fun. Wicked cool, even."

"Wicked cool it is. I like that," Stephanie says happily. She points at Celia and Clay. "Of course, y'all are invited as well. Everyone's going to be there. Jason, tell Taylor and Ryan to come too."

"And Becca Asiaf?" I ask. We leave no ghost huntress behind.

Stephanie hesitates for a minute and then says, "Yeah, sure."

Right then,another one of Courtney's flock,Megan Bremer, bounces up next to Stephanie and sneers at me. "Are you coming with us, Steph? We're going to Reuben's Deli."

"Absolutely," she says, but I can hear the hesitation in her voice. "It was great talking to you, Kendall. Don't forget the party." She heads off with Megan but then flips back around and waves.

"Wow ... invited to Stephanie Crawford's party," Celia says with a smirk. "'Now go we in content/To liberty, and not to banishment.'"

"Thank you,
Celia,"
I say with a snort.

She and I both double over laughing.

"I don't get it," Jason says.

"Celia ... get it? That's a quote from Celia in
As You Like It
. See, Celia quoting Celia—" The look on Jason's face reads blank as a fresh notebook. "Never mind."

"It's a Shakespeare thing, Tillson," Celia says. "You wouldn't get it."

I stand tall. "Well, I get that I'm doing readings at Stephanie's party and becoming friends with her, so maybe Courtney will finally get over her problem with me and start being nice."

Jason pulls me back to him and kisses me on the head. "Aww, Kendall. And maybe that dead pig you're dissecting will resurrect itself and fly too."

I quirk my mouth to the side. "Stranger things have happened."

Celia looks at Clay and then says, "And probably will."

"This
was on my locker," I say at lunch on Friday as I slam the crinkled photocopy on the table.

I startle Celia, who grabs the paper and smooths it out. "Ahhh, last year's Valentine's Day dance." Cuddled together in the picture is Jason, in a nice suit, and Courtney, in a blood-red formal holding a bouquet of pink roses.

"She put that on your locker?" Taylor asks.

I breathe out noisily. "For everyone to see. Like she's got a claim on him just because they once dated. How juvenile is this? I'm tired of her shit."

"You and me both," Celia mutters. "Someone needs to put her in her place. You're never going to get her to leave you alone. Either punch her or do something else. This has to end."

I contemplate how it would feel to connect my knuckles with Courtney's right cheekbone, but that's so not me. The only person I've ever hit was Kaitlin, five years ago, when she pulled my Barbie's head off and split her face right in two. I hauled back and smacked her into the middle of next week. Course, when she went running to Mom, I got the worst tongue-lashing of my life, followed by a couple of wallops to my hindquarters from Dad's bedroom slipper. Something tells me if I take a swing at Courtney Langdon, I'll end up spread-eagled against the wall in Principal Trumbell's office while he has batting practice on my rear. Deservedly so.

"What sort of revenge can I take?" I ask instead.

"Copy a bunch of pictures of you and Jason making out and plaster them all over her car," Celia says with a smirk. "Oh, I know—speaking of her car, we could Oreo it."

I shake my head. "Do what?"

Celia sits up. "You get a few packs of Oreos, twist them apart, and stick the icing side to the car. It's a bitch and a half to get them off, and if you go through the car wash, it just looks like total crap. It takes three or four washings to get it clean."

"You sound like an expert in this field," Taylor notes.

I giggle at the thought, but it wouldn't be very Christianlike of me. "Revenge doesn't belong to us."

"True," Celia says sadly.

I crumple up the picture again and chuck it over toward the nearest garbage can. "Something has to break though, before I do."

"I suggest an
offre depaix
with Courtney," Taylor says calmly. She's painting her nails with a frosty OPI color that makes it look like she has diamond dust on the tips of her fingers.

"A what?" Celia asks. "I knew taking German was a mistake."

"A peace offering," I say, even though my language curriculum of choice is Spanish. "You're saying that
I
need to make nice with the campus wench?"

Taylor purses her lips and then blows on her fingernails. "It seems like you need to be the adult here and take the high road."

Celia crams a fish stick into her mouth and mutters, "Kendall hasn't done anything. What high road does she need to take?"

Patting my hand carefully—not wanting to mess up her fresh paint job—Taylor says, "Kendall, I just hate seeing you so upset all of the time."

"I'm not upset
all
the time."

Celia snorts.

"What?"

"Dear, we're so worried about you," Taylor says.

"Don't be. Courtney will find something else to interest her soon enough," I say with confidence. Truth be told, I am in a complete and total funk, but that has nothing to do with Courtney. I have problems that don't revolve around her and her one-woman mission to ruin my junior year. The sand in my hourglass is running out. In a week and a day, I'll be lying on the shrink's couch, discussing my feelings and my childhood and my relationship with my parents and heaven knows what else in an attempt to "cure" me of my psychic abilities. Not. Looking. Forward.

Courtney is merely the cherry on top of the nervous sundae. (God, what a horrible analogy.)

The Oreoing of the car is starting to sound pretty good. Just kidding.

"Look," Taylor starts. "I'm an expert at hiding my true feelings. I mean, my
father
left us, moved to Alaska, and is dating a flight attendant for Icelandic Air. And my mother, well ... there's a lot going on with her that I don't necessarily want to discuss or let be known to the general public. Y'all already know she's considering a boob job for this Delta pilot she's been seeing."