Ghost of a Girl

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Once more I stood at the bottom of the steps and stared up at the doors into the school. Loathing filled my belly. I really didn't want to be here again. Other students passed me by, going around me, as if I didn't exist. Others like Luke and his cronies ran right into me, and kept going without issuing an apology or even a glance of recognition. Jerks.

I dropped my bag from one such impact, and all the contents spilled out onto the concrete. Clamoring on the ground, I scrambled to grab everything before they were stepped on by others and ruined. Like my cell phone and reading glasses. No one stopped to help me. No one even looked down at me. They all had their heads up their asses.

Once I thought I had everything shoved back into my bag, I hurried up the stairs before the bell rang. I didn't make it.

The morning slipped by in a fog of melodramatic lectures and somber teenagers acting like they actually cared. I floated by right along with them. At lunch, I shuffled down the hallway with the rest of the zombies. Except I stopped in the middle of the hallway and stared at the memorial that had been constructed at Haven's locker.

There was a picture of her taped to the locker with red and pink hearts made out of construction paper and glitter plastered all around it. On the floor beneath the locker was a shrine, with a lit candle--vanilla scented which was her signature scent--and piles of flowers and stuffed animals. The big blank black eyes of twenty stuffed cats and dogs stared at me. It was as if they were beseeching me to get them the hell out of there.

Same.

"What are you doing?"

I turned to see Dylan standing beside me. He was wearing the exact same outfit as yesterday.

"Staring into the vacant eyes of that bear." I pointed to the offending stuffed animal. "I'm fixin' to rip its head clean off."

Dylan pulled on my arm. "C'mon before there's a murder."

We continued down the hall together and out the main doors to the quad.

It seemed like almost everyone was outside for lunch today. It was the perfect day for it. The sun was bright, the grass was green. Birds even chirped happily from the nearby oak trees. It was almost enough to make me want to gouge out my own eyes with a pencil.

As we looked for a square foot of space on the grass to sit, Paige, Jenna and their usual crew all turned around in their seats at one of the only tables in the quad and looked at us.

It was unnerving and I had to look away.

"What's with them?" Dylan asked.

"I don't know. Let's just keep moving, okay?"

Paige got up from the table and marched toward us. As she swung her arms, I recognized the object in Paige's hand. It was my cell phone.

"Is this yours?" She held up the phone toward my face.

Too stunned to do anything else, I nodded.

Paige pushed play on a video on my phone. On screen I spied Haven's smiling face. "You're my very best friend Daisy." The shot then turned and my face popped up on screen. I stuck out my tongue.

I held out my hand. "Can I have my phone back, please?"

"Sure." Paige set it gently on the palm of my hand.

"How did you get it?"

"Justin found it over there," she pointed to where I dropped my bag. "He scrolled though it, saw pictures of Haven on it, and gave it to me naturally."

"Naturally," Dylan said.

Paige gave him a nasty look then turned back to me. "You should be more careful where you leave your stuff. The wrong people might have found it."

She gave me a lukewarm smile, and returned to the table.

"What was that about?" Dylan asked.

"Nothing." I slid my cell phone into my jacket pocket. I wanted to disappear immediately. I hated that everyone was looking at me. Watching. Judging.

Dylan put a hand on my arm before I could make an escape. "Were you and Haven really best friends? I knew you were neighbors, but I thought..."

I just looked at him and didn't answer. I didn't know how to answer him. Not without betraying everything about me and Haven.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it wasn't any of your business."

He dropped his hand and I walked away.

At home, I sat on my bed and watched more video I'd made of Haven over the past couple of years.

There was a knock on my bedroom door and my mom came in. She was wearing her flowered apron again and carrying a plate of hot warm cookies.

She smiled down at me. "How was school?"

"Fine."

"Do you want a cookie? They just came out of the oven. Peanut butter."

I shook my head.

My mom sighed heavily and visibly sagged under a weight of sadness. I knew the cookies were her way of trying to reach me, to love me. When I was little, every Saturday was make cookie day. We'd spend the entire day together in the kitchen, laughing and making a big giant mess. I hadn't made cookies with her in years.

"The Mayberrys have put their house up for sale," she said.

"I know."

"Haven was a nice girl. I liked her." She looked down at me and reached out and lightly touched me on the head. "You're a nice girl too, Daisy."

I glanced up at her. "Thanks, Mom."

After another moment, she withdrew her hand, and slid it into the pocket on her apron, behaving as if she had to hide it. Her hand and her kindness. She set the plate of cookies down on the night table. "I think I'll take over another casserole to Cheryl. I don't know why but grief always makes people hungry."

When she was gone, I reached over and plucked a thick cookie from the plate. I ate it while watching more video of Haven. I loved my mom's cookies. They were as warm and comforting as a hug. Which I knew was why she had baked them.