Vanish Page 2

  So the fact she knew the annual Broadwater High dance was on tonight, let alone acknowledged I wasn't there, was right up there with me believing in her spirit voices.

  Never. Going. To. Happen.

  I settled for a sedate "no," when deep down I wanted to rant and yell, "why can't you be this normal all the time?"

  "You should go." She tilted her head, “listening” to her invisible friends. "I insist."

  So much for her momentary lapse into reality.

  "Leave me alone, Mom." I flopped onto the bed, placed my hands behind my head, and stared at the pocked ceiling. Paint peeled in thirty-four places, to be exact. I should know, I'd spent enough time staring at it over the last few years unable to sleep, wishing I could block out Mom's mutterings as she chatted with her spirits.

  "I'll help you choose an outfit." She opened my wardrobe door and started sifting through my clothes. Faster. Pawing at them. Like she was looking for something. Not caring when jeans slid off hangers onto the floor.

  "Stop," I said, bolting upright when I saw her grab a T-shirt and lift it to her face, like she was smelling it.

  Not just any T-shirt.

  Noah's.

  The sole article of his clothing I had.

  And to see Mom doing what I sometimes did in secret…I lost it.

  "Don't touch that." I yanked it out of her hands, bundled it into a ball, and stuffed it into the top drawer of the dresser beside my bed. "What do you think you're doing, barging in here and going through my stuff?"

  The shadows in her eyes shifted, making her gaze almost opaque. "I wanted to see if the voice is stronger if I held something the spirit owned—"

  "Shut up." I covered my ears with my hands, not willing to acknowledge what she meant, terrified she'd keep talking, and because it involved Noah I might just want to listen.

  "Get out! Leave me alone!" I yelled, sobs rolling through my chest in unstoppable waves, while inside me something broke. "Get out, get out, get out!"

  Mom didn't leave. She didn't speak. And when her gaze drifted toward the drawer where I'd placed Noah's T-shirt, I knew what had to happen.

  I couldn't do this anymore.

  I was done.

  Mom didn't stop me when I grabbed my cell and rang Aunt Angie. Mom didn’t move a muscle when I begged Angie to let me stay at her apartment in New York City. And Mom didn't react when I packed and booked a bus ticket online.

  She didn't speak at all until I hovered at the front door, mentally willing her to do something to fix us.

  "Don't worry, I'll be fine," she said, wringing her hands, her gaze darting all over the place. "Angie will keep you safe."

  I didn't need protection. I needed some semblance of a normal life before I ended up like Mom: bat-shit crazy.

  I wanted to say good-bye but the words lodged in my throat.

  Stay.

  I froze. Stared at Mom, whose lips hadn't moved.

  It had probably been the wind whistling through the eaves making a sound, but when I looked outside and saw the still tree branches I shivered, clamping down on the dread spreading like ice in my veins.

  I couldn't have heard anything. Must've been a little voice inside my head laying a guilt trip on me before I hit the road. Whatever it was, it reinforced I'd made the right decision.

  I couldn't stay here any longer. Couldn't risk my own sanity.

  So I left home without looking back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  After welcoming me into her life, enrolling me in a new school and giving me a general rundown of the apartment and its surrounds, Aunt Angie disappeared for the next four months.

  Not because of the spells she constantly performed, but away on frequent business trips. Being a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company was a far cry from her other career as high priestess of the Circe coven, but both kept her extremely busy, which suited me just fine.

  I didn't want her privy to the stuff I was going through: the usual hardships of trying to fit in at a new school, the occasional meltdown as I struggled to catch up on a new curriculum, the angst of having no friends and being the new kid.

  Because if she saw how much I was struggling, she might send me home. And that wasn't an option. Despite the tough stuff of living in a new place and the accompanying adjustments, I had no plans to return to Broadwater any time soon.

  Judging from the regular phone calls I made to Mom, she hadn't changed. As long as she kept watching me in the hope I'd manifest spirit-listening skills, too, I would stay away.

  The fact she'd implied that one of those spirits was Noah… Nope, I couldn't deal with that crap any longer.

  In contrast, Angie left me alone for the most part. She asked the usual stuff an adult would: about my grades, friends, boyfriends. I was working on my grades. The other two? Nada.

  As for Angie’s Wicca ways, I could deal with that because my aunt could be a witch dabbling in the supernatural and still function as a levelheaded person in the everyday world. More than I could say for Mom.

  School was tough but on the upside, I'd spent the last four months relishing my newfound independence. Exploring. Falling in love with the vibrancy of New York City.

  After looking after Mom for the last five years, it was liberating to be on my own. And as I walked into Fields High on a murky Monday morning, the aroma of bagels heavy in the air, the sound of warring taxi horns filling my ears, the excitement of this city filling me with hope, I thought, I deserve this.

  Until ten minutes later, when I sat at the back of chemistry class, trying to decipher the latest assignment, due tomorrow.

  The longer I stared at the chemical equations, the more my brain fogged. When the chair beside me scraped against the floor, I didn't glance up. No one sat next to me in most of my classes and I had no interest in discovering which kid had mistakenly sat next to the class loser.

  "Hey."

  Male voice. Not too deep. Sounded friendly enough, so I glanced up, surprised to see a fairly cute guy smiling at me.

  "Seth." He held out his hand and I bit back a grin. Not only had he missed the memo about me being a newbie dork, he actually wanted to know my name.

  "Alyssa." I shook his hand quickly and released it, not wanting to give him the wrong idea. Worried I might actually hang onto it too long because he was the first person remotely resembling a friend I'd had in this place. "You new?"

  He nodded. "First day. Moved here last week."

  "Where are you from?" Not that I had a burning curiosity to know, but the longer we talked, the more chance he had of not swapping seats.

  "Quest. Upstate Connecticut." He grimaced. "Small town with the mentality to match."

  "Know what you mean."

  "Yeah?" He tilted his head, studying me. "Figured you were a local."

  "Nah, moved here four months ago from Broadwater…" I clammed up, not wanting to say too much.

  If he noticed my sudden silence, he didn't seem to care. "My dad travels around for work a lot, doesn't like me unsupervised for months on end, so I'm stuck with my aunt here."

  "I live with my aunt, too." Struck by our similarities, I decided to loosen up a little. "School's not so bad here, but there are a lot of cliques, kids who've been hanging around each other for years."

  He grimaced. "The kind whose parents hang out together on weekends, too?"

  "Yeah." And considering how they'd pretty much ignored me since I started, they didn't believe in rolling out any welcoming wagons.

  He tapped the chem text in front of me. "Hey, seeing as you're a fellow newbie, maybe we could be lab partners? Study together? That kind of thing."

  My trusty self-defense mechanism made the back of my neck prickle. I didn't usually allow strangers to get close and since Noah's death, I'd avoided guys altogether. But I didn't get a sleazy vibe from Seth. With his wide blue eyes flecked with violet, spiked blond hair, and guileless expression, he seemed like a nice guy. Friendly, without any come-on.

  "I'm focused on my gra
des," he said with a bashful shrug. "Bit of a nerd back home, so I really want to do well here, too."

  "And you think I'm a nerd?" It came out sharper than I’d intended, my social skills on a par with my social life: pathetic.

  "Whoa." He held up his hands. "I just figured you're sitting back here poring over that book while the rest of the class is paired up discussing it, so thought you may want a partner. But if you don't, no sweat."

  He didn't sound angry or judgmental or miffed, and that's what ultimately swayed me into accepting his offer.

  "Could always do with the help," I said, managing a wan smile. "Let's get started."

  I slid the textbook over so it lay between us, but rather than slide his chair closer, Seth edged away a little.

  "Afraid of girl cooties?" I shot him a glance, expecting him to laugh. Instead, he stared at me with a frown that disappeared so quickly I wondered if I'd imagined it.

  Ignoring my question, he dug into the satchel at his feet, pulling out a pen and notebook. "Guess I've got a lot of catching up to do, so where do we start?"

  Cutting him some slack, I outlined my progress so far, increasingly relieved as we worked through problems. By the end of the class, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time.

  Almost happy.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Here's to our first A+ of the semester." Seth raised his coffee cup in my direction and I tapped mine against it.

  "Thanks to you," I said, taking a sip of coffee and struggling not to spit it out.

  "This cafeteria coffee is the pits," he said, managing to drain his cup regardless. "But I need the caffeine hit."

  Personally, I didn't think Seth needed it. He was pretty wired most of the time, like he couldn't sit still. We'd been study buddies for the last two weeks and I'd never seen anyone so…driven. Moody one minute, buoyant the next, Seth bordered on manic. I knew little of his life out of school beyond the basics but I respected his privacy. Who else could identify with his secrecy but me? I knew the feeling well and liked the fact he didn't pry for answers I wasn't willing to give.

  Besides, he was the only friend I'd made here and I liked having someone to hang out with, even if his edginess made me a tad wary.

  He scrunched his cup and lobbed it into the trash. "Doing anything tonight?"

  I glanced at my watch and wrinkled my nose. "Yeah, meeting with a music tutor."

  "Too bad." He glared at me, the intensity in his eyes making me uncomfortable.

  Uh-oh. Was Seth going to ask me out? He may be a nice guy but I hadn't picked up any vibes. We’d been spending a fair bit of time together for assignments, and I had caught him gazing at me on the odd occasion, but our interactions had been strictly platonic. And I had no idea if I was ready to date again yet.

  Six months since Noah's death and not a day went by that I didn't think of him as soon as I opened my eyes in the morning and before I fell into a restless sleep at night.

  Noah.

  My first boyfriend.

  My first love.

  My first everything.

  I'd never understand what made him change, what had turned him into a cold, crazy freak the day we'd broken up, but I had to live with the real possibility that he'd killed himself because of what I'd done.

  Hating when maudlin crept up on me, I asked, "Why?"

  "No biggie." He shrugged, but I saw a flicker of anger in his eyes before he blinked. "Thought we could get a head start on that math quiz for next week but doesn't matter."

  The last thing I felt like doing on a Friday night was math, friendship or not. And if Seth was getting a little possessive in monopolizing my time, I needed to establish some distance between us.

  Forcing a laugh, I made an L with my thumb and forefinger and held it over my forehead. "Not sure if this is for you, wanting to study on a Friday night, or for me, meeting a tutor to follow up on another assignment."

  Thankfully, some of the tension pinching his mouth eased and he smiled. "Think it suits us both." He stood, slung his satchel over his shoulder. "See you Monday."

  "Okay." I did the same and fell into step beside him. "Have a good weekend."

  He didn't return the sentiment, and as we parted ways outside the cafeteria I wondered why I always picked the odd ones. Inwardly I knew it was because I was an odd one, too, and liked hanging with a kindred spirit.

  "Yep, losers," I muttered under my breath, heading for my meeting and hoping the music tutor—rumored to be seriously hot—wouldn't think I was lame.

  ***

  I know it sounds corny, but the first time I laid eyes on Ronan I felt something. Insta-lust? A jolt? A reawakening? Whatever it was, I didn't want to analyze it too closely because for the first time since Noah it was good to just feel again.

  Silhouetted against the mini-stage in the music rehearsal room, low-slung skinny jeans clinging to his hips, and a plain white T-shirt outlining his lean torso, he looked way too cool to be a part-time music tutor at a high school.

  With my heart racing I ambled toward him, aiming for nonchalance…but failed miserably when he glanced up and smiled. I stumbled. Damn.

  He had long-lashed hazel eyes that crinkled at the corners, indicating he laughed a lot. Shaggy brown hair tied back in a low ponytail. And the kind of bone structure that belonged on a model in a teen magazine.

  Rumors were right. Ronan was a serious hottie. And supposedly twenty-one, so way out of my league. Being a tutor hired by parents, he wasn’t on staff. So technically, it would be okay for me to develop a healthy crush. And for him to flirt in return. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

  He held up a hand in greeting. "Hey, you must be Alyssa."

  "Yeah."

  Way to go with the scintillating opening.

  "So you're going to be shadowing me, huh?"

  He made it sound like I'd be plastered against him for the foreseeable future.

  I wished.

  I nodded and perched on the back of a seat. "As part of my life studies project, I'm filming a few of the after-hours tutors in school for the next two weeks."

  "And here I was, thinking I was the only privileged one." He clutched at his heart and mock staggered, his teasing beyond cute. "You sure know how to wound a guy's ego."

  "Something tells me your ego does just fine."

  He quirked an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  Yikes. I couldn't elaborate on his all-round hotness so I blurted the first thing that popped into my head. "You're a musician. You must have fans feeding your ego."

  He grinned and I swear my heart did some weird somersault thing. "Maybe you should come hear my band one night?"

  I knew the guy was just being friendly, but for an insane moment I wished that he was flirting. Like I wanted to, oh so badly.

  "Maybe I will." I tried to sound casual, like hot musicians invited me out to hear them every day of the week, but I was pretty sure I ended up sounding like a mouse on helium.

  "The Dizzy’s play gigs at jazz clubs around the city. I'll email you our schedule."

  Jazz? With his hip look, I assumed he'd be playing in a happening pop band, not old fart jazz.

  My skepticism must've shown, because he crossed his arms and pretended to pout. "Let me guess. You're like the rest of the teen population and don't rate jazz."

  "I just haven't heard it much," I said, loving how he couldn't stop smiling for long.

  What would it be like to be that happy all the time? That content? That comfortable in your own skin? Sadly, I'd never know.

  "Then we need to change that." He pulled out his cell. "Give me your email address and I'll send you a few clips of The Dizzy’s in action."

  "Okay." I rattled off my address, ridiculously excited about receiving emails of any type from a guy like him.

  He paused mid-typing, shooting me a cheeky glance from beneath those illegally long lashes. "Better give me your cell number, too, just in case."

  Tamping down my elation, I said, "In case of
what?"

  "In case I need to cancel our after-school meetings." He winked. "Or stuff like that."

  I didn't like winking. It was creepy. But when Ronan did it, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Totally corny.

  I gave him my number, almost forgetting I was here for an assignment until he said, "So, do you need to film anything today?"

  "Next week's fine."

  He nodded and shrugged into a black leather jacket that completed his cool hipster look. "Sounds good. I'm here twice a week."

  "Thanks for letting me do this," I said, feeling oddly euphoric at the thought of trailing after him two afternoons a week after school.

  "Any time." He snapped his saxophone case shut and hoisted the strap onto his shoulder. "In exchange, I expect you'll take your jazz education seriously, because I'll be quizzing you."

  "I'll do my best," I said, unable to stop a goofy grin.

  "You better."

  "Or what?"

  "I'm sure I'll think of something as a suitable punishment." With another wink he was gone, leaving me flustered and excited and giggly.

  This life studies assignment was going to be the best ever.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Two weeks later, I let myself into the apartment and headed straight for my room, eager to check my emails. Something I hadn't done until I'd met Ronan. I relished my anonymity in New York City, having abandoned all my social media accounts after Noah died because of the vitriol my so-called friends had plastered online. No one back home had my new email address and I liked it that way.

  What I liked more was corresponding with Ronan.

  We'd struck up a friendship via email. Talked about music and life and stuff. I'd learned he was twenty-one, lived alone, worked in IT, but would rather be a full-time musician. He'd sent me videos and vlogs of his band and while I didn't like the old-fashioned music, I loved watching him.

  The way he looked on stage holding the sax, almost caressing it, his eyes closed, his expression rapturous… I was surprised I hadn't worn out the return button on my keyboard, I'd watched him on repeat that many times.

  Tomorrow was my last session filming him before I edited the footage and handed in my life studies assignment. He'd been so patient while I'd trailed after him, answering all my dumbass questions, oblivious to the fact I was more interested in his hotness than his music tutoring.