The Dead Boyfriend Page 13

  And then what? Then what? Deena was being so mysterious. She didn’t want me to know her entire plan.

  Was she keeping it a secret because it would end badly for me, too?

  I didn’t buy that BFF nonsense. I knew I was in danger, too.

  But I couldn’t just jump up and run. If she really wanted to help me get rid of Blade … If she really wanted to use her powers to send Blade back to his coffin … I had to stay. I had to do what she asked.

  I shifted my weight again. My arms throbbed. My back ached. I stared straight ahead at Deena and listened to her drone on … and on.

  My eyelids suddenly felt heavy. The soft rush of her whispered words were lulling me to sleep. I struggled to stay alert—and gasped when something moved between my hands.

  I gazed down and saw the fingers on Blade’s hand start to move.

  I let out a horrified cry and dropped the hand to the floor in front of me. It made a squishy thud, bounced once, and stopped at Deena’s ankles. And I stared in horror as the dead fingers slowly unfurled. The thumb slid out stiffly, and the fingers curled and uncurled, as if testing themselves.

  Deena opened her eyes for only a second. She glimpsed the moving hand, like a fat purple insect trying to get off its back. Her expression didn’t change. She closed her eyes again. She chanted softly.

  Gripped in horror, I watched the hand flop onto its other side. Like a crab, it began to crawl over the floor. “Deena—” I shouted. “It’s moving. It’s crawling away.” I couldn’t hold in my terror.

  “That means Blade is near,” she said, still whispering. “That means he is coming. Listen. Listen for his knock, Caitlyn.”

  Fingers scrabbling steadily across the floor, the hand crawled toward the table. The parrot squawked and shuffled its wings, its eye on the approaching creature.

  “Blade is near,” Deena whispered. “Listen carefully. Listen for his knock.”

  I realized I’d been holding my breath. I let it out in a long whoosh.

  I froze again when I heard a sound. A soft thump.

  Where was it coming from?

  Deena stopped her chant and tilted her head, listening.

  Thump … Thump …

  Someone knocking softly on the glass wall.

  “He’s here,” Deena whispered.

  Thump … Thump …

  36.

  I froze as chill after chill rolled down my back. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Finally, I forced myself to turn to the glass wall.

  Thump … Thump …

  I shielded my eyes with one hand against the harsh sunlight. Then I uttered an astonished cry and jumped to my feet.

  Deena and I both stared at the black cat up on its haunches. It peered into the room from the other side of the glass and tapped the wall with one paw.

  Thump … Thump.

  Not Blade. Not Blade.

  Deena let out a long sigh. Her breath blew out one of the candles. It sizzled and sent up a thin column of black smoke.

  Her shoulders drooped. She tossed the amulet onto one of the cushions. “It didn’t work, Caitlyn,” she murmured, avoiding my eyes. “Blade is out of my power.”

  Thump. The cat tried one more knock. Then it lowered itself to all fours and took off, its tail raised high, sprinting through the tall weeds of the backyard.

  Once again, I felt cold all over. Strange how fear can control your body temperature. Fear and shock. I really expected to see Blade in the glass. Now that he wasn’t there, I didn’t know what to say or what to do next.

  Deena picked up the hand, which was halfway to the aquarium table. The fingers curled as she lifted the hand off the floor. She tossed it into the aquarium. The water splashed violently and the fish inside scattered. The hand sank to the bottom and didn’t move.

  I stood there with my mouth open, trying to clear my head. I was surprised to see that Deena had tears running down her face. “All my energy,” she murmured. “I used it all. I’m drained, see. The dead take so much energy. To bring them … and to send them back again. I … I don’t have it, Caitlyn. I’m drained.”

  “But, Deena—” I started.

  She wiped her tears with her fingers. Her eyes were narrow slits. Her cheeks were pale and puffy. The color had faded from her lips. “Drained. The amulet is empty. My words have no power.”

  She grabbed my shoulder. Her hand was ice cold. “I can’t help you, Caitlyn. Blade is out there and he’s on his own.” She sighed. “I guess I took on too much. I thought I knew how to bring him here, how to control him. My family has always had such strong powers. But … I wasn’t ready.”

  “Deena, that doesn’t help me,” I cried, backing away from her grip on my shoulder. “He’s following me everywhere. He’s haunting me and he says he’ll never leave.”

  She shook her head wearily. “What can I say? I tried.”

  “But I can’t live like this!” I screamed. “I can’t live with a dead boy following me everywhere, grabbing me, kissing me with his dead lips, fighting, haunting me. How can I live with that?”

  “Caitlyn, listen to me. I’m telling you the truth. I can’t do anything,” she said. She leaned against the wall. Her face grew even paler. In the harsh sunlight through the glass wall, she nearly disappeared. “You have to deal with Blade on your own.”

  “Huh?” I gasped. “On my own? What on earth do you mean, Deena? What can I do?”

  “Isn’t the answer obvious?” she said. “You have to kill him again.”

  37.

  At my shift behind the popcorn counter that afternoon, I must have looked dazed or distracted. Ricky kept coming over and asking if I was okay. “If you’d like, you can take a ten-minute break,” he said after I’d been on duty for only an hour. What a guy.

  The theater was pretty crowded. I kept my eyes on the lobby entrance. Anyone wearing red made my breath stop. I knew Blade would show up. I knew he’d come to haunt me, to terrify me.

  By the end of my shift, the tension from waiting and watching for him made me feel exhausted. Ruined. I almost forgot I’d made a plan to meet Julie after work.

  I met her at Fresh Chopped, the salad restaurant in the mall near the Cineplex. We meet there a lot since Julie is a vegetarian. “How’s it going?” she asked, her eyes studying me.

  I shrugged. “Not bad. Do I smell like popcorn?”

  She nodded.

  We made our salads. I didn’t pay much attention to what I put in mine. My stomach felt too tight to be hungry.

  We slid across from each other in a booth away from the open double doors. In the next booth, two little kids were whining and complaining to their mother.

  “But I hate salad.”

  “The lettuce gets stuck in my teeth. I hate this. It’s yuck.”

  “We want McDonald’s!”

  “It’s delicious,” the mother argued. “Eat some of it and I’ll buy you some ice cream.”

  “With sprinkles?”

  “Okay. With sprinkles.”

  That seemed to quiet them down. Bribery almost always works with little kids.

  Julie mixed the dressing into her salad with a fork. Her dark eyes were still on me. Her straw-blonde hair fell loosely to the shoulders of her striped tank top.

  I noticed a bandage over her right earlobe. I pointed. “What happened to your ear?”

  She rolled her eyes. “A piercing accident.”

  “You got your ears pierced again? That’s very bold of you.” As I’ve said, Diary, Julie is usually timid about things. She says she’s “old-school.”

  “Yes. I wanted two holes. But the guy messed up or something. It got infected.”

  I tsk-tsked.

  Julie stirred her salad some more. “Let’s not talk about me,” she said. “You left school this morning. What’s up with that?”

  I set my fork down. “Why? Were people talking about me?”

  “Caitlyn, I saw you leave. You ran out the door like you were being chased. Were you sick or something?” />
  I opened my mouth to answer, then stopped, my brain spinning. And in that instant, with Julie peering across the table at me with such concern, I decided to tell her the truth.

  I had to confide in someone. Deena Fear admitted she could be no help. But I couldn’t face this entirely on my own.

  “Julie,” I started. “I know this is going to sound totally crazy, but I’m going to tell you the truth. Please listen to me. Please believe me, no matter how nuts it sounds.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Are you in trouble, Caitlyn?”

  “No,” I said. “I mean … yes. I mean…”

  “Take a breath, okay. You’re scaring me,” she said. “Take a breath and start at the beginning. You know you can trust me, right?”

  I nodded. I leaned over the table so I could whisper. I didn’t want my story to scare the little kids in the booth behind me.

  “Blade is back,” I whispered. “Remember? They didn’t bury him? Deena Fear brought him back from the dead. She—”

  “You’ve been hanging out with Deena Fear?” Julie said, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “Not hanging out exactly,” I replied. “But she has powers. You know her family’s story. They’re all weird and they … can do things. And she brought Blade back to life. And…”

  “Caitlyn, you’re hyperventilating,” Julie interrupted. “You’re scaring me. Try to calm down.”

  Behind me, the two kids were arguing about where to go for ice cream. They both wanted Dairy Queen. Their mother was insisting on Tastee-Freez.

  A wave of sadness washed over me. I wished I could talk about normal happy things like ice cream.

  “Blade is back from the dead, Julie,” I whispered. “And he came back to haunt me, to torture me, to terrify me.”

  Julie shook her head hard. She swept her blonde hair back. “Why, Caitlyn? Why you?”

  I hesitated. Should I tell her the whole story?

  Yes, I decided. It was all spilling out of me. I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  “He’s haunting me because I killed him, Julie. I’m the one. I’m the one who stabbed him. And now … now he’s come back for revenge.”

  I grabbed both of her hands on the tabletop. “Do you believe me? Please say that you believe me. Please, Julie.”

  She stared at me for a long moment. I could practically see the gears of her brain spinning. She didn’t move. She didn’t blink.

  Finally, she nodded. “I believe you, Caitlyn. I believe you.”

  I squeezed her hands. I wanted to jump up and hug her. “Oh, thank you!” I cried. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me, Julie. I can’t tell you how much better I feel that you know the truth now.”

  “You must be so frightened, Caitlyn,” she said. “Blade back from the dead? It’s like a horror movie. What are you going to do about him? What can you do? You have to get rid of him. You have to—”

  “Deena Fear tried to help, but she couldn’t,” I said, my voice breaking. “I-I don’t know what to do next. I’m so scared. I’m scared all the time.” I held my breath, trying to hold back my tears. “I’m just so glad to have someone who believes me.”

  “We’ve been friends since sixth grade,” Julie said. “I want to help you. Maybe I can help you.”

  “Help? How?” I asked. I watched a group of guys from our school walk into the restaurant. One of them was wearing a red sweatshirt. It made me gasp. Then I realized it was actually a maroon-and-white Shadyside High sweatshirt.

  “Come to my house,” Julie said. She slid out of the booth. “In half an hour, okay? Come in half an hour. Maybe I’ll be able to help you. I mean, maybe.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Okay. Half an hour. I’ll kill some time here in the mall. I’ll be there. Thanks, Julie. I mean, really. Thanks.”

  I watched her hurry away. Neither one of us had touched our salads. But I felt so much better, knowing that I had a true friend who believed me, believed my story no matter how insane it sounded.

  How did she think she could help me? I didn’t have a clue. But I was no longer alone.

  I made my way to the exit. One of the guys from school called to me. I waved, but I didn’t go over to them.

  I wandered around the mall, just gazing into windows, not really seeing anything. The place was nearly empty. A lot of tables were filled at the food court in the basement. But bored salespeople stood around in empty stores, leaning on counters, their eyes on the clock, waiting for nine so they could close.

  I remembered I had to buy a birthday present for my dad. I saw a Brooks Brothers store across the aisle. I took a few steps toward it, then stopped. I was in no mood to shop for anything.

  I glanced at my phone. Time to head to Julie’s house. My car was in the lot at the other end, near the Cineplex. I walked quickly past the stores, not seeing anything now but a blur of color and light.

  My car stood all by itself in Row B. I felt a chill tighten the back of my neck. Parking garages give me the creeps. I thought about the guy who tried to rob me after work that night. You’re just so totally vulnerable in a deserted parking garage.

  My car squealed around a turn as I followed the circling aisle down toward the exit.

  Julie lives on Bank Street, a short drive from the mall. She has two younger sisters, so there are five in her family. Their house is small, almost like a cottage. The kitchen, dining room, and living room are all one open room. Julie’s sisters share a bedroom.

  Julie says she doesn’t mind being a little cramped. Her main complaint about the house is that it has only one bathroom. When her sisters go in to do their hair, it can take hours!

  She says she loves her family because they’re all pretty mellow. Bathroom time is the only thing they fight about. I know they were thinking of moving to a bigger house before Mr. Nello hurt his back. He was an assistant manager at a Walmart warehouse, but he had a bad accident unloading a truck. Now he gets some kind of disability.

  I had all these thoughts about them as I drove. I guess I was trying to think about normal things, trying to keep my mind off my terrifying troubles. A few minutes later, I parked my car at the curb and walked up their small, square front yard. Her sister’s scooters leaned against the front stoop. A jump rope was tangled around a low evergreen shrub at the foot of the steps.

  I took a long breath of the cool night air and held it for just a second. Then I climbed onto the narrow stoop and rang the doorbell.

  The door swung open almost instantly. Julie greeted me with a solemn face. “Hi, Caitlyn. Come in.”

  I stepped into the small front room. Saw the people standing there, standing there so stiffly. And I let out a cry: “What are you doing here?”

  38.

  Diary, I was trapped.

  My mom stood behind Julie, her eyes moist, her chin trembling the way it always does when she’s upset. Dad stood beside her, one hand on her trembling shoulder. He squinted at me as if he didn’t recognize me.

  “Come in,” Mom said. “Come sit down, Caitlyn.” She spoke slowly, softly as if she was speaking to a sick person.

  I saw Julie’s parents huddled together behind the couch at the back of the room. Julie’s cheeks were bright pink. She could see the anger on my face, the betrayal I felt.

  “I had to call them, Caitlyn,” she said, clasping her hands tensely in front of her. “I had no choice.”

  “Why?” I said coldly. My jaw was clenched. “Why did you think you had to ambush me?”

  “No one is ambushing anyone,” Mom said.

  “What was I supposed to do?” Julie asked, near tears. “What you were saying … What you were telling me at that restaurant was so crazy…? I was worried about you. I mean, really worried. You need help, Caitlyn. I mean…” Her voice trailed off.

  Mom took my hand and squeezed it between both of hers. “We came as soon as we could. Julie said you were having a breakdown.”

  A breakdown?

  She wouldn’t let go of my hands. Her watery eyes peered
into mine. Dad took my arm and pulled me to the couch. “Sit down. Come sit down. You’re not well. I can tell by your eyes.”

  “Thanks, Doctor,” I said sarcastically.

  “Can I get anyone any coffee or tea?” Mrs. Nello chimed in.

  No one answered her.

  I could hear Julie’s sisters talking upstairs in their room. I had a strong impulse to break away from my parents, run up there and join them.

  “We’re so sorry to intrude,” my mom told Julie’s mom.

  “You’re not intruding. I completely understand. If there’s anything I can do.…”

  “Caitlyn, I’m sorry.” Julie was still apologizing. She stood by the front door, as if she was afraid to come near me. “You’re my friend,” she said. “I couldn’t bear to see you in trouble. Please—forgive me.”

  “Nothing to forgive,” My dad answered for me. He sat down next to me on the couch. He kept some distance between us, like I was contagious or maybe a wild animal that might attack him if he got too close.

  Mom stood over me, her arms crossed in front of her. “Tell us what you told Julie. Okay, Caitlyn? Tell us the story so we can help you. Don’t be afraid.”

  “You don’t understand!” I screamed. “You don’t understand! It isn’t a story. I didn’t tell Julie a story! You don’t understand!”

  I was shrieking at the top of my lungs. I realized I truly did sound like a crazy person.

  “Screaming won’t help,” Dad said softly.

  “This isn’t going to help, either,” I said sharply.

  “Let’s have a talk,” Mom said. She motioned for me to slide over so she could sit on my other side. “That’s what families do, Caitlyn. They help each other.”

  She and Dad were talking to me like I was a mental patient, and they both had these wet-eyed stares that made me nauseous.

  “You talk about it!” I shouted. I jumped to my feet. I pushed my mother out of the way, dodged past Julie, who uttered a startled cry, and bolted to the front door.

  I leaped out onto the front stoop and slammed the door hard behind me, shutting out their cries and pleas to come back. I took a deep breath of the fresh, warm spring air, dove off the stoop, and started to run.