Page 47

WAVERLY

L ife felt different after Keene learned the truth.

I had thought him finding out would be the worst thing that could happen.

Like my world would literally end, and I’d expire like rotten milk.

My parents would have to pour me out in the backyard, and the name Waverly Frank would sink into the earth, nurturing weeds and dead grass for the rest of eternity.

But no.

His initial reaction had even been exactly what I’d feared.

Anger, indignation, betrayal.

Why did you do this to me? You were the one person I never wanted.

Yet he hadn’t given up on me. The irritating man had forced me to talk it out. He’d forced me to keep listening to him until I understood his perspective. And he’d even shared a secret with me.

And don’t even get me started on learning about the existence of ghosts. I couldn’t even touch that one yet.

Because I was still thunderstruck over how Keene had managed to smooth everything over, allowing us to remain friends.

I had no idea where he’d gotten a superpower like that. But I was jealous as hell.

I wished I had the art of conversation. He didn’t just know how to talk; he knew how to draw the other person into talking too, even when talking was the last thing they excelled at.

And now I couldn’t wait to see him again, couldn’t wait until he sauntered into the library and plopped onto my counter to blurt some crazy, idiotic thing that would both aggravate me and make me want to laugh at the same time.

Who cared if he never wanted to explore a physical relationship with me? He still wanted me to be in his life. And I just knew being around Keene was going to be the highlight of everything.

So I went to class the next Monday without that itch of stress digging into my gut, without the fear of running into him at every turn, without worrying he was going to hate me when he learned the truth.

And it felt weird as hell, like the calm after the storm that had passed right over my house without striking.

It felt so unreal, in fact, I hadn’t even mentioned to Xander yet that Keene now knew my identity.

And it was obvious he hadn’t told her; she came into Early American Literature chatting about actual homework.

“Did you already start on your essay?” she asked as she dropped her bag heavily onto her desk and sat next to me. “Because I can’t even pick which topic I want to write about. None of the options from the list sound interesting at all.”

“I finished and submitted mine last night,” I answered, figuring out a calculus equation for the homework I’d just gotten the hour before.

Gasping, Xander whirled toward me in outrage. “You what ? You’re already finished? Frankie! What the hell? I thought we were in this together?”

Honestly boggled by that statement, I glanced up and opened my mouth but had no idea how to reply.

“What topic did you choose?”

“The theme of Henry’s fear of death in The Red Badge of Courage ,” I answered, which only made her scoff and roll her eyes.

“Of course. But there’s no way I want to write about that . Which one do you think I should pick?”

Returning my attention to my calculus, I jotted down a new figure and said, “The breaking-the-cycle theme in The House of Seven Gables .” It fit her best. Maybe it could even help her get over her ex somehow.

Xander made a thoughtful face and nodded as if growing onto the idea. “You think?”

“Yeah. Definitely,” I encouraged, only to immediately realize I wasn’t usually the type to encourage people.

Well… Look at me. Breaking my own cycle.

Kind of felt good.

“Huh,” Xander said. “You know what. I think I will choose that theme. Thanks.”

I nodded, writing in an answer just as the professor cleared his throat and called for class to begin.

I set my pen down and put my calculus away while Xander turned to face the front of the room as if she meant to actually listen to the lecture today.

But a mischievous bug bit me, and I leaned toward her to whisper, “Oh, and Keene knows.”

Xander spun back to me as if I’d just poked her. “ What ?” she shrieked so loudly and so full of shock that everyone in the room turned to look our way.

Even the professor paused in the middle of talking to lift his eyebrows. “Everything alright, Miss Union?”

“Huh?” She glanced at him distractedly, only to realize who was actually addressing her. “Oh! I—uh, yeah. Sorry, I just—sorry.” She cast him an apologetic cringe and fluttered out her hand, encouraging him to get back to his lesson. “Please continue.”

I snorted out a laugh under my breath, but no one heard because half the class tittered along with me as Professor Gleek frowned at her in reproach. “Thank you so much for your permission,” he droned dryly. “Now, as I was saying…”

When he finally took his attention away from her, Xander shot me a threatening glare and snagged her phone from the side pocket of her backpack before typing madly.

Seconds later, my own phone buzzed with her message.

You are so dead. I can’t believe you told me like that. When did this happen? Did you tell him or did he find out? What did he do when he found out? Are you okay? Do I need to hurt him? You look surprisingly okay. Seriously, Frankie, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?

I sighed and glanced her way to find her sending me a stern look and motioning toward my phone to prompt me to reply. Posthaste.

So I heaved out another breath and told her everything, finishing it up with:

Oh yeah, and thanks for not telling me ghosts are REAL, by the way.

That was super fun to learn because Keene’s mom did NOT like me shoving him.

She tried to kill me with an avalanche of books.

But he stopped her. I still ran off in total fear, though, and he had to track me down on the other side of campus to tell me everything about her.

Which actually worked out okay because we ended up talking the rest of our problems through, too.

And somehow we went away from it as friends.

After I pushed send , I chewed on my lip and watched Xander’s expressions as she read.

I could tell when she got to each new sentence because she went from eagerly relishing my gossip, to wincing over not warning me about Ghost Mom, then letting her mouth fall open through my death-defying part, to blinking in confusion and shaking her head.

Friends?

she demanded, only to start typing again.

And shit, I’m sorry about the ghost thing. Alec told me in total confidence, so it really wasn’t my secret to blab, especially since both Oaklynn and Faith don’t want people to gossip about their abilities. But I still probably would’ve told you if I’d remembered. It just…never came up.

After she sent me that, she gasped and added,

Crap. Did he tell you about Faith and Oaklynn? Or did I just spill the beans on them?

He explained them. No worries. You didn’t tell someone else’s secrets.

Oh, thank God.

Her fingers flew as she added,

What does FRIENDS mean though?

I scoffed under my breath.

Honestly? No clue.

So… He didn’t ask for a repeat of that night?

Nope.

But he didn’t tell you to stay away from him either?

No. He didn’t tell me to stay away. He seemed pretty adamant that we remain friends.

She drew her eyebrows together and frowned at my answer before typing some more.

That is so odd because all he could talk about before was how much he wanted more.

I shrugged, trying not to feel crappy about learning how much he’d stopped wanting me after knowing it was me.

I told you; he doesn’t see me that way. He doesn’t THINK of me that way. He just doesn’t want me like that.

Xander scoffed loud enough that some guy in front of us peered back to send her a dirty look. She rolled her eyes and started typing again.

Whatever. He wants you. I mean, I haven’t seen him look at another girl, flirt with another girl, or even TALK about other girls since you two hooked up.

Suddenly, her eyes flared and she sent me a look.

Holy shit! Wait. I seriously CAN’T remember the last time he flirted with me. And from the moment we met, he’s flirted. Something is definitely up with him. And it’s not because he’s NOT interested in you. I think it’s because he IS. I’m going to put him to the test the next time I see him.

My heart jackhammered against my ribs, and I scowled, hating how much three simple words meant to me. Because he is. Ha! There was no way Keene liked me like that.

So I told Xander,

You’re delusional. He doesn’t want me.

DOES TOO.

I lifted my eyebrows at her when she cast me a stern glance.

Heard you.

I wrote back.

Still don’t agree, but I heard you.

You’ll see. Trust me. He’ll show his intent soon enough. I know it.

She was wrong, but I let her believe what she wanted.

I turned my attention to the lecture, but I heard nothing the professor said throughout the rest of class.

Afterward, I had a two-hour shift at the library, and instead of working the front counter, I had shelving duty. I pushed my cart to the elevator and rode it down to the basement.

As soon as the metal door yawned open to let me out into the dark, dingy dungeon of stacks, I froze, knowing there was most likely a ghost just waiting to pounce. And I was all alone.

It’s just Keene’s mom , I chanted to myself. Just Keene’s mom .

Yeah, Keene’s mom who’d tried to take me out with half the damn library just three days ago.

Oh God. I couldn’t do this.

I started to push the button repeatedly to take me back to the main floor when a book appeared from the stacks floating toward me.

“Oh God,” I whimpered, retreating from it until my spine bumped into the back wall of the elevator. The doors started to close, and relief washed over me. Escape.

Until the book shot into the elevator with me at the last second, and a creepy coldness spread over my skin. Because, holy shit, the ghost was shut inside the elevator with me.