67

I stared at myself in the mirror. My face was flushed from the best kiss I had ever experienced. I gasped for air. Leaned against the sink. Thought to swoon.

Buddy knocked on the door.

“Evie, come on out. Please.”

Tommie peeked out of a stall.

“What are you doing in here?”

“What do you do in here?” she said. She gave me a disgusted look, and I went to the sink. Would I see her in the mirror? I glanced one-eyed past my image. Yup. There she was. Not a thing like a vampire. Not that I had ever seen a vampire in a mirror. Or anywhere for that matter.

“Ummm,” I said. I splashed water on my face.

“Right,” she said.

Spirits needed to potty? Okay. After this morning, I’d believe anything. All those ghosts. That kiss. All those ghosts. That . . .

Buddy. “Evie?” Tap, tap, tap. “Evie.”

Water dripped off my nose.

Tommie tilted her head. “Is that . . .” She paused. Pointed at the door. “Is that Justin?”

My skin seemed too hot. My fingers shook.

Why was I meeting a ghost in a school bathroom after kissing her used-to-be boyfriend in the hall? That seemed . . . wrong. No. Unfair.

And meeting? This was not a scheduled encounter.

“Evie!”

I pushed the door open a crack. “Not now, Buddy. Please!”

He deflated right in front of my eyes. Got shorter. His face went bright red. His shoulders slumped.

I stepped into the hall and threw my arms around his neck. Hugged him so tight I bet he couldn’t breathe easy.

“I gotta . . .”

What? Talk to a ghost who’s hounding me? And not just any ghost—the ghost who wanted to marry you?

Buddy held me by the shoulders. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Evie,” he said. He let me go, tucked his hands in his pockets, and walked away. Maybe even sauntered away.

My heart leaped watching him.

I turned back to the bathroom. Unhappy now. I was being followed by the dead. Or whatever you called this. Haunted! That was it. I was being haunted.

So what if that group of the dead at Paulie’s had a sacred feel. This one was downright bugging me. And by the way, she wasn’t glowing. Jell-O-y? Yes. Glowing, no.

And anyway, what about all those famous ghosts? Didn’t Bloody Mary show up in bathrooms? Or Freddy Krueger?

This I did not want to know. I walked into the restroom, hands out, eyes squinched shut.

“What are you doing?” Tommie asked.

I opened my eyes and glared at her.

She glided over to where I stood. Leaned against the sink. Her hair looked perfect. She wore the same clothes as she always did. But there was that smell. Sour.

“Justin was talking to you,” she said. Her eyes, brown and huge—like JimDaddy’s—seemed let down. Disappointed. When she spoke again, she whispered. “He doesn’t speak to me anymore either.”

I wiped my hands on my blue jeans.

“My own momma is gone.”

Wiped my forehead with my arm.

“I can’t get anyone to talk to me.”

She didn’t know.

“Only you.” Tommie turned to face me.

She didn’t know she was dead.

“You are my onliest friend, Evie Messenger.”

My heart pounded like a racehorse’s hooves.

“I’m scared.”

“Me too,” I said.

Tell her, my brain said.

No. Never. It wasn’t my place.

But it is, my brain said. This is part of the Gift.

“No!” I said.

“Excuse me?” Tommie’s eyes were too sad to look at.

Do it! Brain said.

Tommie came closer. “What’s the matter with you, Evie? Are you losing sight of me too?” Her voice was light as a breath of air.

I took a deep breath. “No. I’m still here. I can see you fine.”

She smiled. The full-blown smile I imagined her father missed most of all.

“I’m not sure what I’ve done that people ignore me.” Now she gazed at me in her mirror. Tried to turn on the faucet so she could wash her ghosty hands that looked like real hands.

I ran my palm under the sensor for her.

“Thank you,” she said.

I was at the dryer now. My hands wet (drying your hands on your own clothes only works so well). My throat closed up.

The bell rang, blasting. Oh my gosh, I was going to be late to class. I could hear doors being opened in the halls. Could hear people calling for one another, laughing, just a few feet away. Where was Buddy? Three girls burst into the bathroom. I didn’t recognize any of them, and they pretended they didn’t see me, walking past and into stalls, talking about chemistry being the worst class ever.

Tommie drifted over to where I stood.

“I’m awful lonely.”

Not so sure Tommie still spoke to me. Maybe just talking.

My legs shook.

She waved her hands under the hand dryer, but nothing happened.

Did it again.

Again.

Have you ever tried to choke down a brick? I had to open my mouth to breathe.

Tommie and I stood eye to eye. “I can never make this work,” she whispered. “You turn it on.”

“Freak, why are you just standing there?” one girl said. She watched me, hands on her hips. Her friends came out of the stalls.

I glanced at the girls. Then back at Tommie.

“You’re dead,” I said. And started the dryer with a swish of my hand.