Eleventh Grave in Moonlight Page 26

 

My shoulders wilted. I had to help her.

 

“I did mean it metaphorically, Mr. Hipple. I’m sorry. I’ll stop asking questions.”

 

“I hope not,” he said, surprising me. “I’d just like them to be something I can answer. If you really are taking over the world, I think you need to take a class that’s more advanced than Intro to Business 101.”

 

I laughed softly. “Thanks. I’ll look into it.”

 

Just as I was headed out the door, he called out to me. “I think they cover world domination in Business 350.”

 

I laughed again and left, knowing I wouldn’t be back. I couldn’t learn how to run the world, possibly the entire universe, from a classroom. I needed real-world experience.

 

Issues girl got all up in my face. She did it to everyone. What she didn’t expect was for me to see her.

 

“I need a pencil!” When she screamed, her mouth opened really wide, and her tongue was a little blue. Of course, that could have been a side effect of her being dead.

 

I did a mom thing and grabbed her ear.

 

“Ouch,” she said as I dragged her into the restroom. “What the hell?” She rubbed her ear when I let go. “How did you do that?”

 

“Haven’t you noticed that I’m a little brighter than the other kids on the playground?”

 

“So, I still need a pencil.”

 

“You don’t need a pencil. And your screaming is the most grating thing that’s happened to me all day. That’s saying a lot. Trust me.”

 

“Wait. You can hear me?”

 

I finished checking the stalls and then went to a sink for a hair check. Still longish and brown. Okeydokey, then.

 

“Yes, I can hear you. What the hell is up with the pencil?”

 

Now that I had her attention, she seemed perfectly sane. “I just… I needed a pencil for a test.” She turned around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. Maybe not that sane. “Is this a hospital gown? Does it open in the back? Can you see my butt?”

 

“Do you remember what happened to you?”

 

She stopped twirling. Thank goodness, because I could indeed see her butt.

 

“I was… I fell. I remember I leaned over to ask another student for a pencil and the room started spinning. I…” She looked at her hands. Then the gown. Then her bare feet. “Am I… am I dead?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I was two semesters away from graduating.”

 

I hitched a hip onto the sink and waited for her to absorb it all. She walked into a stall and sat on a toilet.

 

She buried her face in her hands. “How is this even possible?”

 

“I don’t know, hon, but since you didn’t cross when you died, you can cross through me. I’m sure you have family waiting.”

 

“Cross?”

 

I nodded.

 

“Like, to the other side?”

 

Reyes materialized then, but he kept his distance this time. Not that it was a very big restroom. He crossed his arms at the farthest end and leaned against the back wall.

 

“I believe you missed the sign on the door outside,” I said, teasing him even though he was a grumpy bear.

 

He took me in from head to toe, then back up again, pausing at my mouth. Both times. Sizing me up?

 

The girl rose and peeked around the stall door.

 

I refocused on her. “Yes, hon, to the other side.”

 

“But I can stay if I want to?” She had yet to look back at me. Her gaze was laser locked onto my husband.

 

“Or you can go. Just walk right through me,” I said, encouraging her. “Your family will be excited to see you.”

 

“That’s okay.” She wiggled her fingers at him. “I think I’ll stay.”

 

That time, I crossed my arms and glared at the man. Two. Two in one day who had refused to cross. Or was it three? Either way, I was losing my touch.

 

In a move that was part supernatural necessity and part theatrics, Reyes slowly dematerialized, cell by cell, disintegrating into a cloud of billowing smoke. Then he was gone.

 

The forlorn look on the girl’s face said it all. No way was she leaving now. Damn it. I thought about telling her about the butt thing but decided against it. She’d leave when she was ready. At least she’d stopped screaming.

 

I ended up going back to class after all, after talking to some of my classmates, then I hit an all-night diner with a couple of them. We’d bonded instantly the first day of class. Mostly because they worshiped coffee almost as much as I did. Almost.

 

Reyes joined us incorporeally, as did our Scottish friend. They spent the whole time eyeing each other as though waiting for the other one to make a move. Which neither ever did.

 

Our group eventually got kicked out of the all-night diner. Apparently my definition of all-night and theirs were two totally different things. We said our good-byes, which would have gone better if I could’ve remembered their names. I was so bad with names. And the one girl I thought I knew the name of kept looking at me awkwardly every time I used it, so I finally gave up the struggle. Which was real. The struggle.

 

Oddly enough, they all knew my name. Probably because Mr. Hipple had used it so much in class. For better or worse, I did tend to make an impression.

 

By the time I got home, however, Reyes was already asleep. Or he was faking it. Either way, boy was hot. His lean body shimmered in the low light, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other wedged behind his pillow. His wide chest took up half the bed. He had one leg out from under the covers. One hip open to the moonlight streaming in from the massive windows. He was like a Greek god. Sleek. Surreal. Temperamental.

 

Did the Fosters see the darkness in Reyes? Is that what compelled them to take him when he was a baby?

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