School Spirits - By Rachel Hawkins Page 0,25

not to ask them out?

Scribbling out the definition of “moratorium,” I tried very hard to ignore the sinking sensation in my stomach. All that TV I’d watched aside, I really didn’t know anything about normal teenage interaction. I’d prepared myself for ghosts and keeping my cover story consistent, but the one variable I hadn’t even considered was…humans. Regular people. With regular emotions and thoughts and wants that weren’t all tied up in the supernatural.

I couldn’t get suspicious over every single person who showed the slightest bit of interest in me. Clearly, I was going to have to brush up on my Normal People Skills.

Maybe a new season of Ivy Springs was already out on DVD.…

By the time English ended, I’d made myself a list of things I needed to get. More DVDs, obviously, but I also wanted some of those magazines I’d seen in drugstores and gas stations. The ones with glossy-haired girls on the cover and titles like American Teen and Sassy Miss. I wanted to be both of those things. Okay, so maybe I could do without being “sassy” for now, but there had to be good info on regular teenage stuff in there. Those magazines always had articles about “How to Tell if a Boy Likes You!” and “Could Your Lipstick Kill You?”

I’d also added “makeup?” only to cross it out. Maybe I should read that article about killer lipstick first.

Making the list cleared my head a little bit, and I was actually in a good mood once we got to P.E., despite the fact that Coach Lewis handed me a uniform as soon as I walked in. Once I was changed into the ugliest T-shirt/shorts combo on earth, I followed Romy out of the locker room and into the gym.

Ben was there, sitting on the bleachers, his arm in a sling. I waited for him to shoot me the Death Glare, but he was too busy talking to a blond girl next to him.

“Who’s that?” I asked Romy, nodding toward the girl. I hadn’t noticed her yesterday.

Romy heaved a sigh. “Beth Tanner, Ben’s girlfriend since, like, the womb. They’ve been on and off for a while.”

“Right now they seem…off,” I said, which was kind of an understatement. Beth’s face was the same bright red as the free-throw line, and I thought I could see tears shimmering in her eyes.

Ben reached out with his uninjured arm to take her hand, but she threw it off. “Seriously, what is wrong with you?” she screamed, her voice echoing in the gym.

Now Ben was raising his voice, too. “It wasn’t me.” He lifted his injured arm as far as it would go, thanks to the sling. “How could I have done it with this?” As he said it, his eyes fell on me, and I swear his face paled a little.

“Dude, Ben McCrary is so terrified of you,” Romy whispered, and I frowned.

Beth was shaking her head, and I realized Ben wasn’t the only one who was afraid; Beth’s red face and shrill voice weren’t just from anger. Her movements jerky, she turned to the bleachers and picked up her bag, rifling through it. “I know you were upset, but this?”

She whipped something out of her backpack, and I felt my muscles tense up, but Beth wasn’t brandishing anything like a weapon at Ben. It was a doll. The Barbie’s hair was the same bright gold as Beth’s, and it was even wearing a little cheerleading uniform in green and white, which, from all the bunting and banners covering the gym, I knew were the school colors.

But even from this distance I could see that there was something wrong with the doll. Its plastic limbs looked twisted and mangled, and there was a bright splash of red over its stomach. “This is sick!” Beth shrieked, shaking the doll, and Ben seemed to go even paler.

“Beth, I swear to God, I didn’t hang that thing up in your locker.” Once again, Ben gestured to his arm. “There’s no way—”

“Liar!” she screamed, the word bouncing around the gym.

That was apparently enough for Coach Lewis. He turned around and blew his whistle. “Laps, all of you!”

“In here or out on the football field?” a girl asked. By this point, Beth was crying too hard to talk, and she was turning kind of purple.

The coach was a similar shade, and seemed completely flustered. “I don’t care!” he snapped at the girl. “Just…go run.”

I turned to Romy, only to find her staring at Ben and