“She was running for student president at the time and had these stupid pins made. When she lost, also because I sabotaged the votes, I stole a bunch of the pins from her locker, since I knew her damn combination, and stuck one in every single tire of the faculty parking lot. Not one tire was left with air when I was done. I may have also left evidence on the principles car that the cheerleading squad was responsible. A couple people covered for me so Cassidy and her friends took the fall. Now you know.”

  “Wow, that’s actually brilliant.”

  “Yeah, I told you I’m awesome.”

  Okay, after that I kind of want to slap him five.

  “So, I’ll see you on the bus tomorrow?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “I’ll save you a seat.”

  He’s colder than I expect, but since I’m in a hurry I brush it off and head out to give my dad the good news.

  Things are going to turn around for us. I’ll make sure of it.

  Chapter 8

  Back in the truck, I find Dad sitting beside a brown bag that smells like the most delicious chicken in the whole world. He reads my expression when I finish strapping my seat belt. We both look down at the obvious container of food. “I figured it would cheer you up if it didn’t go well, or that it was a good excuse to celebrate in case it did.”

  I’d been mad at him for spending money on booze, begging him to get groceries, so this was a step in the right direction. Besides, my stomach wasn’t going to let me hold grudges, not with such an aroma filling the inside of the vehicle.

  Turns out Dad didn’t spend the whole day on the job site. He’d paid a trip to a local scrap yard and turned in some old metal found on our new property. It’d been laying around, so he figured he’d take it in and get some money for it. There were two more bags of groceries in the back of the truck with necessities for the two of us. Now we’d have enough food for at least a week. All he really needed to do was buy some noodles and sauce. We could eat spaghetti three times a day and it would be fine. Despite that, he purchased a few other choices that were easy to prepare, as well as milk and cereal.

  An hour later, our stomachs full and swollen, Dad and I are stretched out at both ends of the sofa watching a sitcom on the television. He’d just poured his first alcoholic beverage, and while it bothered me, he only sipped at it, instead of shooting it down to get drunk. I can’t remember the last time we’d shared a real meal together. It meant a lot to both of us, I could tell by his smile. Dad was optimistic, and it made me hopeful.

  Later in the evening, after an extra-long hot shower, I retreat to my room to focus on some homework. I pull on a pair of shorts and a tank, then plop on my bed with my books sprawled out in front of me. It doesn’t take long for the noises in the attic to grab my attention. It gives me chills when I clearly hear the sound of footsteps right above my room. They aren’t the kind of pitter-patter a small critter would make either.

  I’m freaked out, but refuse to ask my dad to check it again. He’s had a good day and my complaining will only ruin it.

  Since I’m freaking the hell out, I decide to do whatever I can to keep from hearing it. Music plays from my cell phone into my ear buds, and as I listen to the lyrics of one particular song, I get the idea to do a little research of my own.

  I search my address and what comes up first confirms my worst fear.

  Collinswood Curse Strikes Again

  Elmer Collinswood was found dead in his family home on Friday with a self-inflicted gunshot to the head. Elmer was the third generation of farmers to live on the family property and also the third member to die of apparent suicide due to mental illness.

  I stop reading and swallow a hard lump in my throat. This is the reason no one wanted to live in this place. It’s most likely the reason the family let the property go. Even the media says it’s cursed. We must be the laughing stock of the town.

  Another headline article sits below it.

  Depression or Curse?

  Gregory Collinswood was found dead of an apparent suicide on Monday. Reports confirm, Gregory, quarterback of the Weston High 2001 state champions, was discovered deceased as a result of a fatal hanging. An investigation is ongoing, but no foul play is suspected. More details will be revealed at a later time. Gregory is survived by his parents and one sister.

  The family claims a curse took another loved one. Authorities believe severe depression was most likely the cause.

  With no regard for Dad’s awesome mood, I charge down the stairs armed with evidence that our new home is for sure haunted.

  The phone is flashed in front of his face. He reads the headline and shakes his head with laughter following. “The house isn’t cursed, Soph. The news likes a good story. This house is over a hundred years old. People lived in it. People died in it. They’re long gone, sweetie. If it makes you feel better I’ll get up on the roof this weekend and seal off any spaces squirrels or bats can enter the attic.”

  “Dad, it’s more than that.”

  “Soph, there’s no such thing as haunted houses.”

  If I continue to push he’ll get angry. Some people believe in spirits and hauntings. People like my dad don’t. Unless a ghost physically assaulted him, he never would.

  Back in my room, I’m on high alert, hyper aware of every single sound coming from above. If I were brave I’d go up there myself, but God knows I’m a coward. Since the first couple articles were so revealing, I don’t dare read more, because let’s face it, I have school in the morning and I already know I’m going to have a terrible time sleeping.

  Every time I close my eyes I see an old man hanging in different places. Even when I use the bathroom, I check behind the shower curtain to make sure someone isn’t inside waiting to kill me.

  People tried to warn me. Now I know the truth.

  The vibration of my phone startles me so much that I nearly fall off the bed. It’s the chime of a text message, which makes me think that one of my friends from home are checking in. I don’t recognize the number, and the area code is local.

  Miss me yet? – Garver

  I can’t tell if I’m excited he messaged me, or pissed he has my number.

  How did you get my number? – Sophie

  He replies quickly.

  Stole it from your application. – Garver

  I should get you fired. – Sophie

  You could try. – Garver

  I heave a loud sigh. I’m really not mad he got my number. I need the distraction, and frankly I would have given it to him anyway.

  Are you still working? – Sophie

  Na, I’m just chilling. What about you? You naked in your bed fantasizing about being in that back room with me Friday? – Garver

  That’s not what will happen Friday. I need that job. – Sophie

  Whatever. Do you have a boyfriend back home? – Garver

  No. I did, but I dumped him. Men are dicks. – Sophie

  Needed to make room for me. – Garver

  Keep dreaming. I don’t date cocky boys. – Sophie

  Who said anything about dating? – Garver

  I snicker at his reply. Not only is the attention he gives me welcomed, but I find his character to be interesting enough to egg on. He’s appealing in a weird, pushy way. Now he’s helped me get a job and I can’t thank him enough. Well, I can, but I choose to keep my dignity in my pants. At least for now.

  When I don’t answer right away, he sends another message.

  I noticed your birthday is coming up. What would you like to do? – Garver

  OMG! Did you memorize my whole application? – Sophie

  Just the important parts. – Garver

  Don’t you have anyone else to stalk? – Sophie

  Don’t be mad. Be flattered. I’m worth the fuss. – Garver

  Not from what I hear. – Sophie

  I say it sarcastically, but when I don’t get a response, I wonder if I’ve offended him somehow. I wait longer. An hour passes, and still not a single response.

  Not wanting to apologize to someone so conceited, I decide to go to sleep. My life won’t end if Garver doesn’t like me anymore, and frankly if that’s the case, I don’t need his friendship anyway.

  I’m almost asleep when a loud thump shoots me straight up in my bed. It wasn’t my imagination either. It rattled my ceiling fan. Then there were a couple more lighter sounds before it got quiet again. The ghosts in the attic needed to stay there. Now I know why there was a lock on the outside of the door. It was to keep the evil spirits in, instead of letting them out.

  I’m shaking in bed. My palms are sweaty and I’m afraid if I open my eyes I’ll see something I can never unsee. I’m either going crazy, or this is really happening. Whatever the case, I want out of this house, this town, and away from everyone in it.

  Heeding the warnings of my classmates, I tread lightly for the next couple of days around Garver, up until my birthday that is. The day started like any other. I woke to pancakes; a tradition my parents had started since I was three. Dad attempted to make them taste as sweet as Mom’s always did. He got close and I very much appreciated the sentiment.

  Following breakfast, Dad insisted on giving me a ride to school so that I didn’t have to take the bus. His job was starting, so I wouldn’t get to see him tonight. During the ride, he handed me a small velvet box. It wasn’t wrapped or new looking, but simply appears to have belonged to someone before. “Happy birthday, sweetie. It’s not a car, but I think you’ll appreciate it a little more.”

  It was funny he said that. Last year he and Mom had talked about getting me a car for my eighteenth. Now I’m living in the backwoods of Farmville and either walking or riding someone else’s bike to and from my current job.

  Unknowing, I open the box, excited I’m getting a present at all. What I see inside makes my breakfast turn in my stomach. It knots and twists again as my emotions play havoc on my heart. Mom’s necklace. I had no idea Dad kept some of her cherished belongings. I’d sworn we’d lost most in the move.

  Taking the chain between my fingers, I pull it from the box and hold it up so the sun catches the gold and makes it shimmer. The silver and gold heart, lined in small diamonds, holds a cross in the center. The backside is a flat heart. Mom liked it because it always sat perfectly right at her collarbone and wouldn’t twist like other charms. This particular necklace was something she never took off. She’d been wearing it the day of her accident. I remember finding the Ziploc bag of her belongings the nurses gave Dad at the hospital that night. I also remember the chain had been covered in dried blood.

  When I begin to cry Dad pulls over on the shoulder of the road. “Soph, don’t cry. Please, sweetie. She’d want you to have that. It was her favorite.”

  “I know,” I ardently agree.

  Dad places his palm on my knee and squeezes. “She loved you more than anything in the whole world.” His voice breaks, the mawkishness is obvious in the tone. Hearing him talk about her makes it worse, but at the same time I want to hear it. I want him to talk about her all the time, because we can’t let her go.

  “I know.”

  He sniffles and wipes his face. Hearing his emotions surface only makes it more difficult to keep it together. “I bought her that necklace on her first Mother’s Day. Did you know that? She wore it every single day after that. It symbolizes her love for you and her faith. I’ve always been terrible with gift giving. She always said it was the most precious thing she’d ever owned. She used to hold it when she was stressed, she’d rub it between her fingers.”

  I can’t handle it anymore. My body reacts to his painful memories and I’m suddenly pressed up against him, his arms stretching around my back to give me the comfort I need. “I miss her, Dad. I miss her every second of every day.”

  “I know, Soph. It’s not fair. It should’ve been me that night instead. At least she would have known how to keep going. I’m afraid I’m lost without her. She made it all work.”

  “Yeah.”

  We hold each other for a few minutes, both of us needing the time to release what we’ve been keeping inside. Dad pulls away first. He straightens himself and offers a tearful smile. “I’m trying to fix things.”

  I nod. He has been better. Not great. One step at a time.

  “I know you hate the drinking, Soph, but it’s the only thing that helps me sleep. I see her when I close my eyes. I see her everywhere; in everything I do. All day and all night I think about her until I feel like I’m suffocating from the inside out. It’s no excuse, but the drinking numbs it, not all the way, but some. I don’t drink to forget, Soph, I drink to cope.”

  “But I need you too. I lost her too, Dad. I lost everything important to me.” Realizing I left him out of that statement, I quickly reiterate. “You know what I mean. I love you. You’re my dad. I just need her and she’s gone.”

  We’re both quiet. Maybe I hurt his feelings. Maybe he’s just frozen in time and trying to get it together in order to start his job. Whatever the case, Dad throws the truck into drive and pulls back onto the highway. “We’re going to be okay.”

  I’ve been clasping the necklace in my hand, unable to really look at it. Opening my palm, I stare down at the jewelry. I’m going to cherish it forever. It’s such a small part of her that I can have with me every day. “I think I agree with Mom. It’s the perfect gift.”

  Dad’s smile is genuinely pleased. He didn’t have much to work with, and God knows how long he’d been pondering giving it to me, but it’s mine now. It’s better than a car, or any amount of money in the world. “I love you very much, Soph. That will never ever change.”

  “I love you too.”

  Dad gives me extra time before I have to climb from his truck and face the judgmental eyes of my peers. I clean up the makeup that’s run down my face, and put the necklace on before thanking my father again. We may have been crying minutes before, but nothing can take the smile off my face now.

  Still reeling inside, I watch the first set of buses arrive and students begin to pour out of them. Garver appears in the crowd, almost instantly finding me. We’d been around each other since I started school, and although his intent remains, he’s stopped aggressively suggesting anything will happen between us.

  Though I think it’s impossible for him to know me this well, he picks up something is off almost immediately. His arm goes around me. “It’s your birthday and you’ve been crying.”

  Worried others will know, I keep my head down as we enter the building. “Just emotional today.”

  We don’t stop walking until we’re standing in front of my locker. My hand goes to the lock, but he flips me around to face him before I’m able to open it. “How about we make today unforgettable?”

  “I’m afraid to ask how.”

  Blinking, in order to push the lust and need from my unhinged thoughts, I capture a sly smile broadcasted over his face, as if he knows exactly what buttons need to be pushed. Slowly, as if we had the whole world to ourselves, Garver forwards until his lips ever so gracefully brush over mine. He’s giving me the opportunity to withdraw, but I’m not about to take it. Reciprocating is the only thing on my mind. He kisses me softly, and my lips move against his, parts of my body thrumming with excitement and nerves. Garver pulls from the embrace, only to recapture my mouth with his in a feverish kiss. My back arches against the locker at the feel of him so close. One of his hands slides up my waist and holds me in place. People are staring. Why wouldn’t they be? Small town. Small school. Sophie and Garver are lip locked in the hall. Total news worthy.

  When we stop for air, his head dips down into the nape of my neck, his warm voice vibrating over my ear. “Happy birthday, Soph.”

  Just like that, he pushes off the locker and walks away, leaving me breathless and empty. Every part of my body shakes, so much that I’m having a hard time getting it together. Once I’ve gathered my things, I proceed to my first period, the lingering smile remaining on my face the entire time.

  Chapter 9

  My first two periods go by in a haze. I’m too overwhelmed by my present that I can’t focus. Aside from a few rude comments regarding my very public kiss with Garver, I’m mostly left alone. The kiss replays in my mind, dancing around in a glorious celebration. Today I turn eighteen. I’m legally an adult. I’m wearing my mother’s most prized possession and was kissed by the wickedly handsome guy at school. It’s better than expected.

  When the bell rings to go to third period, I hurry along so I’m not late for class. Just as I’m about to enter the room, Garver hooks our arms and we take a detour. Tucked behind a set of stairs, he plants a fast kiss across my lips, his mouth lingering as he speaks. “I’ve wanted to do that again since this morning.”

  I’m too caught off guard to agree, but simply smile with reddening cheeks.

  “What do you say we ditch this place? I want to take you somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  “It’s a secret. Don’t you trust me?”

  Do I? We’re still strangers in the broad spectrum of knowing someone, however I do trust in him because he’s still only ever helped me. Even if everyone thinks he’s a terrible person, he’s not that way to me.

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re eighteen. I’m nineteen. We can do whatever the hell we want today. I know you don’t want to be here.”

  He’s right. I’d rather be anywhere else.

  Our bodies remain touching as I consider his idea. I’ve skipped school before. My friends and I went to the beach for the day. We ended up getting so sunburned our parents knew we hadn’t gone to school.

  This time there wouldn’t be punishments or consequences. Dad could take my phone. I barely had service as it is.

  Biting down on my lip, I make a haste decision. “Okay.”

  He slaps a chaste kiss on me and takes my hand, hurrying us toward the exit before we’re discovered. Once outside, we make a mad dash for the woods at the back of the property. I suspect it connects to the woods we walked through my first day of school. It’s exhilarating doing something out of character, for me at least. My heart races and I’m giddy.