Chapter 7

Charlotte

I woke early on Friday morning and stretched. As expected, my body was stiff and sore. I got dressed, went downstairs, greeted my family, and ate breakfast at the kitchen table like any other morning.

But, instead of driving to school like I usually did, I drove my car to my grandmother’s house.

Skipping school was something I did not do nearly enough.

I was not fond of the place, or people, and I always felt like I was on the outside looking in. I did not participate in any sport, but I overachieved academically.

My parents would not mind if I skipped a day or two, as long as my grades stayed good.

I had not told my grandmother that I was coming.

When I reached her house, I found that the front door was locked, and I assumed Grandma May had gone shopping. She was old and slow, and it could be a while before she returned.

I could have waited, but instead I got back into my car and drove further down the road. I parked by the cemetery where my grandfather was buried.

Although I did not like cemeteries, I did come here every now and then to visit. I had loved my grandfather a lot, and he had always spoiled me.

Andrea had also been much closer to him than she ever was to her mother. His death had been hard on all of us.

I had never seen his ghost. Grandma May explained to me that I would never see him because he had moved on. There was no reason for him to stay here.

I locked my car and walked between the tombstones. There would be ghosts here. In the past, they had always left me alone, and I had turned a blind eye.

I found my grandfather’s headstone and sat next to it for a while. I did not mind the grass that tickled my legs.

From what Grandma May had told me, he could not see ghosts either. Despite this, he had never made fun of Grandma May. He had always been there to support and love her, and he had accepted her as she was.

One of the things I strove to have in my life was someone who accepted and loved me the way I was.

I had never told any of my previous friends about my gift. I did not trust anyone enough, and I feared being judged and laughed at.

Quinton had been so freaked out in the graveyard on the pumpkin farm. Would all guys react that way? If so, I would be single forever.

When I got to my feet, I saw someone else standing in the graveyard. I had to go closer to him to make out his features.

He was tall and looking down at a grave with a solemn expression. He was facing me, and his dark hair fell into his face.

“Dimitri?” I was unsure if it was him until he looked at me.

His eyes widened, as if he was surprised, and then his jaw dropped.

“Well, how are you?” I asked casually.

I could not blame him if he was shocked to see me. He had totally ditched me and had probably thought he would never see me again. I hoped he felt bad.

I crossed my arms and stuck out my chin. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

He gaped at me. “What do you want me to say?”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Don’t apologize for standing me up.” I spun around and walked away.

“Wait!” he pleaded.

I relented and turned back to face him.

“I am sorry for standing you up,” he said, with such sincerity I almost hugged him.

“Why didn’t you call?” I asked.

“My phone is broken.” He shrugged.

“And you weren’t creative enough to think of another way to contact me?”

“No,” he said. “I really am sorry.” He gazed at me with big puppy-dog eyes.

A moment of silence hung between us. I didn’t want to forgive him just yet. If I forgave him too soon, he would begin to take advantage of my soft heart.

“Who are you visiting?” I asked.

“My dad.” He stepped away from the tombstone and approached me. He did not stand too close, and I assumed he was still cautious. Good.

He looked sad, alone, and lost. His dad had died, and I could not imagine what it must be like to live without a parent. My heart went out to him.

“I’m sorry about your father,” I told him.

“It was a long time ago,” he said, as if that made it better. “Who are you visiting?”

“My grandfather.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

We exchanged sad, understanding smiles, then Dimitri said, “People say time makes pain go away. It is a lie, isn’t it? You just learn how to handle the pain better.”

“I agree. When someone you love dies, they leave you with a big, empty hole in your chest.”

In that moment, we connected in a way that I had not with many people in my life. “There’s more to you than I thought.”

“Give me a second chance,” Dimitri said, “and you will see just how much there is to me.”

“I will think about it,” I said with a teasing smile, although I knew I’d give him that chance.

“You will be missing out if you choose not to give me a chance.”

“Missing out on more disappointment,” I added.

“I had not realized you were so excited for our date,” he said.

“Then maybe you are not as intelligent as I thought you were.”

Instead of being offended, he smiled as if it was a challenge. “You look cute with your glasses on.”

“I know.”

I started walking, and he fell into step beside me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“I skipped today to visit my grandmother.”

“Is she—”

“She is alive and well,” I said. “She is eighty years old, and I keep telling her that she will live for eighty more.”

“Are you two close?”

“Very,” I admitted. “She is a typical grandmother. She bakes and knits, and spoils me and my sister all the time.”

“That sounds amazing,” Dimitri said.

“What about your grandparents?” I asked.

“My mother’s parents are in France. We have not spoken in years. Unfortunately, my father’s parents passed away.”

“I am sorry. Did they live long lives?”

“Yeah. My granddad died from cancer. Once he was gone, my grandmother lost the will to live. One year later, she joined him.”

“That’s so sad.” Something tugged at my heart.

This boy did not have a father or grandparents. Who did he have? I hoped his mother was loving and caring. If he was sad, he did not show it.

He asked, “Where do you live?”

“Blacklick,” I said. “And you?”

“Canal Winchester,” he said, “but I used to live much closer to you. We moved away three years ago when my mother remarried.”

“Do you like your stepdad?”

“He is a great guy, but he could never replace my dad.”

We passed plenty of leaf-sprinkled graves. The autumn leaves were getting fewer and fewer. One of these days, the trees would be bare.

The wind made me shiver. Dimitri did not hand me his jacket like a gentleman would have.

“What about your dad?” Dimitri asked.

“What about him?”

“Does he mind if boys visit you at your house?”

I laughed nervously. I had never had a boyfriend or a crush at my house. The thought of that made my palms sweaty.

“He is very strict,” I said. “He won’t let a boy sleep over.”

“Then he should not find out,” Dimitri said.

I gaped at him and couldn’t help but feel excited at the thought of breaking the rules. “Why would I keep secrets from him?”

“Because it is exhilarating,” he said, “and because you don’t like following rules.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’re ditching school.”

I bit my lip. “You got me.”

“When would you like me to come over?”

“When is the most inconvenient time for you?” I tested.

He smiled. “You are not going to make this easy, are you?”

“No. You have to earn my forgiveness and trust.”

“Tonight is inconvenient,” he told me. “It’s very short notice.”

I gave him my address. I told myself that he was not very reliable and that he might let me down again. I would take the chance anyway.

“I look forward to it,” he said.

“And I look forward to visiting my grandmother.” I smiled and started heading toward my car.

“I am going to miss you.” He kept up with my stride.

“You better.”

I opened the car door, and he placed his hand on it. “Please don’t stand me up.” He looked at me with his big, desperate, puppy-dog eyes. “Please forgive me instead of making this even.”

“I can’t stand you up,” I said. “You’re meeting me at my house!”

“You could have lied about the address . . . ”

“Well if I did, you better hope the strangers are friendly.”

He smiled sheepishly. I had a moment to appreciate just how cute he was. “Bye, Dimitri.”

He stepped back and watched as I closed my car door and drove away. I didn’t have to look in the rear-view mirror to know that he was staring after me.

***

Grandma May prepared our tea the same way that the English prepared it—with sugar and milk. I opened the sugar pot and lifted out the spoon. “Grandma, this spoon is huge!”

“My doctor told me I can only have one spoonful of sugar a day.”

I frowned. “So you went and bought the biggest spoon you could find.”

Grandma May shrugged and added three heaped spoons of sugar to her tea. No trace of guilt showed on her face.

“Grandma! That’s not healthy,” I chastised.

“You grandfather and my siblings used to complain about my health as well. And just look, I have outlived all of them.”

I did not know what to say, so I remained quiet. I added one spoonful of sugar to my tea and took a seat on the couch. The leaves were piling up on the porch outside.

“I can sweep those up for you,” I offered.

“Don’t bother. After an hour there will be new ones.”

I sipped my steaming tea and became aware of my grandmother’s eyes that were on me. “Are you going to tell me what you are doing here?”

“I’m visiting,” I said. “I just missed you.”

Grandma May arched an eyebrow. “You never skip school to visit me.”

“Are you angry?”

“No. I am always happy when you visit me, but I would still like to know the reason for the visit.”

“I just missed you,” I said, but she knew me well enough to know that that was not my only reason for visiting. “Okay. I also have some questions.”

Grandma May smiled sweetly. “What questions?”

“About ghosts,” I said calmly, while I observed my Grandmother over the rim of my teacup.

“Ask me,” Grandma May said.

“A ghost is a person who dies, but their soul remains on earth.”

“Correct.”

“Why do they stay?”

“It differs from person to person,” Grandma May explained. “Some died suddenly and don’t know they are dead. Some won’t accept that they are dead. Some have something keeping them here.”

“What could be keeping them here?”

“Unfinished business, revenge, or a person. Some of them struggle to let go.”

“Do they choose certain people to haunt?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe they do if they disliked the person when they were still alive. It would make sense if they had a vendetta or something.”

“Have you ever been haunted?”

“No,” Grandma May said. “I have seen ghosts, and I’ve avoided communicating with them. I’ve learned that if you stay away from them, they stay away from you.”

“Is there any reason they won’t stay away?” I had to tread cautiously with my words.

“Maybe if they want something.”

“What would a ghost want?”

Grandma thought about this. “If I were a ghost, I’d probably be bored. I would scare people for entertainment.”

“Grandma!”

“What? It could be fun.” She winked.

I sipped my tea and silence settled on us for a moment.

Grandma May asked, “Why are you asking me all of these ghost questions?”

“I’ve just been seeing more of them lately.”

I was not ready to tell my grandmother about the red-eyed lady’s murder. I imagined her, blond hair in her face and open, bloodshot eyes staring at nothing.

I was not ready to speak about the murder—and I never would be. But thinking about it made my stomach turn.

“Just remember they can’t hurt you. They can only scare you,” Grandma May said.

“Is there ever a time that they can hurt me?”

“On rare occasions. Ghosts are energy, and strong emotions might make them able to touch you. And then there is the obvious one: on Halloween,” Grandma May said.

“The veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead is at its thinnest. That’s when ghosts can touch you.”

“I am not always sure if it is a ghost . . . The other day I saw a boy in a graveyard. I thought he was a normal person until he turned and I saw a bullet wound in his head.”

“Have you ever thought you saw a shadow or something, but when you looked it was not there? That was probably a ghost, and your brain dismissed the idea.

“You will believe what you want to believe. Your brain can make you see things different than they truly are, in order for it to make sense to you.”

“So, I see what I want to see.”

“That is often the case,” Grandma May said. “Sometimes you can see a ghost in the form he died—like the boy with the bullet wound. Other times your mind will block out the wounds, and you will just see a normal face.”

“Thank you, Grandma.”

“Don’t tell your mother I told you all of this.”

“I was not planning to.” I checked the clock hanging on the far wall. “If I want to be home on time, I have to leave now.” I didn’t want to tell Andrea that I visited Grandma, because she wouldn’t approve.

“Then you’d better be on your way.”

I got to my feet. My grandma touched my arm before I walked away. “Charlotte, I don’t know what secret you are keeping from me, but I can tell it’s a bad one.”

I swallowed and tried to keep my face neutral.

“I just need you to know that I love you, and I am right here if you need someone to talk to.”

“Thank you, Grandmother,” I said with a tight smile.

But for once I couldn’t talk to anyone, not even her.