Page 30 of Places We've Never Been

CHAPTER 7

All the talk of ghosts on the way over had me jumpy as we walked through the worn-down buildings in a town that had sprung to life in the gold rush and had probably just as quickly been abandoned. Many were dilapidated at this point but some had obviously been built better than others because they’d at least somewhat withstood the elements.

I had gotten separated from our group and was circling a house made of glass bottles and adobe, amazed it was still standing. “What do you like about this building, Norah?” I asked myself, imitating an interviewer. I sighed. That wasn’t an unexpected question or a hard one.

Harder question…

“How could you incorporate this building into a video game?” My brain immediately imagined the adobe between the bottles dissolving and the bottles coming loose, causing the characters in the game to roll around the screen, off balance. How would that level be cleared? Fill the bottles with the ghosts haunting this town? No, that was too out there. Ineeded a more commercial idea. Rebuild the house? Crush all the bottles?

I ran my hand along the wall, which looked like hundreds of multicolored circles, formed from the bottom of the bottles. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to destroy you.”Stop talking to yourself, Norah.Actually, I was talking to a building. That seemed worse.

I started to leave when I heard a scuffing noise around the nearest corner. “Ezra?”

Nobody responded, just more scraping, like footsteps dragging across dry dirt.

“Hello?” I slowly rounded the corner. My eyes shot to the ground, thinking it was a mouse or rabbit or something, but I saw nothing. My heart sped up and I crept toward the next corner.

“No,” Ezra’s voice rang out. I peered around the building, ready to jump out and scare him but he was on the phone, so I started to back away when I heard him say, “Norah doesn’t know.”

I paused in my retreat.

“No, I swear,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t so I won’t.”

Footsteps sounded behind me and I whirled around. Skyler was there, his mouth open as if about to speak. I immediately grabbed his arm, pulled him close, and covered his mouth. Then I strained to hear the rest of Ezra’s one-sided conversation.

“When, though?” he was saying. “I know, it’s just hard. I better go before…” He walked in the opposite direction, taking the end of the sentence with him.

That’s when I became aware of a very still Skyler, one ofhisbiceps in my grip, his mouth still beneath my other hand. My back was against the wall and his chest was millimeters from mine. I met his confused eyes but before I could pull my hand away, he licked it.

“Ew!” I gasped and wiped my hand on the front of his shirt.

“There was probably a better way to shut me up,” he said.

“But not a faster way.”

He tilted his head as if he disagreed but I just shoved him away from me and moved to leave when he asked, “What was that about, anyway?” He nodded toward where Ezra had once stood.

“He’s…” I wasn’t sure what Ezra was. My brother and I had always been able to talk to each other. I never expected to hear that he was purposefully keeping something from me. That was new. Was this trip like a litmus test for my relationships? Soon I was going to see that Willow was my only true friend. Maybe I only needed one.

“Something about my mom?” I said to Skyler. That was my best and only guess. And I sensed it was right too. Was she sad? Mad? Was something happening with my parents? Or maybe it was about something else entirely. But what?

“What about your mom?” Skyler asked.

Once upon a time, I would’ve told him exactly what I thought was going on. All my worries and insecurities. But we were well past that. “Did you need something?”

He must’ve realized I wasn’t going to answer his question because he said, “Have you seen Paisley? Our moms want pictures with the ghost by the bike.”

“I haven’t seen her.” We walked across the hard-packedbarren landscape. It looked exactly like I imagined a ghost town would look—dry brush not more than ankle high, yellow dirt, trees that seemed half dead but had obviously been there for decades.

Our moms were standing by a white plaster sculpture that had been formed into what looked like a robe draped over an invisible shape. It stood, ready to mount an actual bike. It was odd and definitely picture worthy.

Paisley was already there.

Austin and Ezra reached it at the same time I did. I gave Ezra a dirty look.

“What?” he said, tugging on the end of my hair.

He wouldn’t tell me now. Not with everyone around. Not after he promised whoever was on the phone—Dad?—that he wouldn’t. But maybe if I confronted him in private I could get answers. “Nothing,” I said.