Existence (3 page)

I slapped a piece of pizza down on the plate in front of me in frustration. “I’m going to fix it in the morning. It isn’t like I robbed a bank. Stop making a big deal out of it. I know I screwed up. He really needed help and I did sign up to tutor.

If I want the extra credit, I have to help those Mr. Yorkley sends my way.”

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Miranda rolled her eyes, “Oh, and heaven forbid he send the hottest male in the county your way! I mean, for crying out loud, what is wrong with you?”

It was impossible not to find amusement in her drama.

Miranda never failed to make you smile at the little things, by making it all a big dramatic scene.

“I was wrong for not offering to help. I guess my prejudice toward jocks got in the way. But, I’m not helping him because you think he is hot. I’m only helping because he actually needs help and I signed up to help those who need it.”

Miranda rolled her eyes and froze, holding her pizza in mid-air between the plate and her mouth. “Wait....is he like going to come to your house and stuff? Because, if he is, I want to be here too. He can notice me and realize he’s hopelessly in love with me and then we can date through high school and then after graduation, we can get married and I can have his babies.”

Soda spewed from my mouth and coated my plate of pizza. “What?” She smiled and shrugged before taking a bite of her soda-free pizza.

“For starters, you need to finish college before you can even think of getting married and having kids. And NO he won’t be coming over here. Even if he was, I wouldn’t let you come over after such an insane comment. The last thing I want to do is fix my friend up with a guy she’s fantasizing about marrying and having babies with straight out of high school.”

Miranda sighed in defeat and gave me the pouty frown she was so good at. “You’re no fun, Pagan, no fun at all.” I took another piece of pizza from the cardboard box I’d placed on the coffee table. “Really? So, why do you keep me around?” I asked.

“Because I love you!”

“Love you too.”

Miranda stood up. “I hate to leave all the warm coziness 17

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of this conversation but I need to go pee.” She jumped up off the couch and headed down the hall toward the bathroom.

She always held it to the last minute. I kept thinking she would grow out of it as we got older but she hadn’t. When she decided she needed to go to the restroom it was always a mad rush.

“Interesting friend you have there. She’s really quite entertaining.” The pizza I’d been lifting toward my mouth fell out of my hands and into my lap. I bit back the scream in my throat. He’d startled me but I recognized the deep drawl.

The talking soul sat on one of my bar stools. Just great.

The really sexy, yet creepy-because–he-can-talk dead guy must have followed me home. “Why’re you here?” I demanded quietly, wanting him to just leave me alone and go wander the Earth somewhere else. The intensity of his steady gaze made my pulse jump from nerves, or maybe a better description would be fear.

“I can’t tell you that. Now isn’t the time. But, I can tell you I’m not going away anytime soon.” After a quick peek to see if Miranda was returning, I glanced back at him. “Why? If I ignore you—you soul things—you always go away.”

He frowned, leaned forward and studied me closely.

“What do you mean by ignore you ‘soul things’?” Not feeling very safe on the floor looking up at him, I shoved the pizza out of my lap and stood up so I could be eye level with the soul. “You aren’t special. I’ve been seeing ghosts or souls or spirits or whatever you are, all my life.

Souls are everywhere. In my house, on the street, in the stores, at others’ houses, I can see them. I just ignore them and they go away.”

He slowly stood up and took a step toward me. His height was intimidating but his nearness would have had me backing up even if he’d been short. “You can see souls?”

“I can see you, can’t I?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes, but I’m different. You’re 18

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supposed to see me. It’s easier that way. But the others....you aren’t supposed to see them.”

The bathroom door opened with a click. I jerked my head around to see Miranda returning with a smile on her face.

“Were you talking to yourself just now?” I shrugged and forced a smile. “Um, yes.” She laughed and sat back down on the couch. I took a steadying breath and then glanced back at the soul who had returned to the same white wicker kitchen stool, watching me. The only way I could finish this conversation and get him to leave would be to send Miranda home. Talking to a soul she couldn’t see wouldn’t go over very well. My ability to see souls wasn’t something I’d shared with her and I didn’t intend to start.

The soul seemed to be waiting for me to make a decision.

The thought of being alone with him frightened me. He might be sexy, but he was dead and he had followed me home. Creepy didn’t begin to describe it. Letting Miranda leave me here wouldn’t be in the plans tonight. I put some distance between the soul and myself by walking over to the couch to sit next to Miranda. “Want to watch Vampire Diaries? I have the last two episodes recorded,” I asked her, hoping the soul got the hint and vanished.

“OH! Yes, I missed last week.”

I grabbed the remote, scanned down the recorded shows on my DVR list and clicked play. I needed to get my mind off the dead guy in the room. After at least ten minutes of listening to Miranda swoon over Damon and fuss at Elena, I held my breath and chanced a peek in his direction. The stool where he’d been sitting now sat empty. I let out a sigh of relief.

* * * *

All morning, I’d been replaying exactly what I would to say to Leif. I wasn’t sure if I should let him know that I knew 19

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about his dyslexia, or if I should just tell him we could start as soon as he was ready and skip the explanation. I also prepared myself for him to tell me he no longer needed my help. If he’d already managed to find another tutor then this whole mess would be over. I wouldn’t be forced to help someone I didn’t really like, but it would be a negative strike against my extra credit. Either way, I lost in this situation.

This also wasn’t something I wanted to do with Miranda beside me, batting her eyelashes at him and giggling when he spoke. Timing would be of utmost importance. After Chemistry, I waited in the hallway for him to come out of the only class we shared this semester. Luckily, he walked out alone.

“Um, Leif, could I talk to you a minute?” I asked as soon as he stepped out of the door. He glanced over at me and an immediate frown creased his forehead. He appeared to be seriously considering walking away and ignoring me when he turned and made his way over to stand in front of me instead. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and waited. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to make this easy for me.

“About yesterday, I’m sorry I was so rude about helping you. I did sign up to tutor for extra credit and I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did.” I stopped and hesitated, hoping he would say something. He didn’t move or even act as if he was going to respond. I took a deep breath and reminded myself this was my fault. “If you still want me to tutor you, I’d be happy to,” I finished, not really happy, but it sounded like the polite thing to say and his silent stare happened to be making me nervous. He appeared bored and it took extreme self-control not to get mad at him and walk off. Remembering exactly how rude I’d been yesterday helped keep me waiting patiently for his reply. He straightened and stared down the hall over my shoulder as if he wasn’t really considering what I’d said.

Right when I felt positive he no longer wanted my help, 20

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he focused his bored expression on me and asked, “Are you offering because of Mr. Yorkley? Did he make you do this?” I thought of my Mom’s words yesterday and wondered. If she hadn’t insisted I ‘make it right’, would I be offering my help now? This popular, talented, worshipped guy trusted me with his secret. I didn’t like him. Heck, I didn’t know him, but for some reason I wanted to help him.

“I acted the way I did because I just don’t like you very much. I was wrong and, honestly, I don’t even know you well enough to form an opinion of you. I’m offering to help because you need it. That’s what I signed up for and that’s why I’m here now.”

He seemed to think about what I said for a moment, and then a small smile appeared on his face. “You don’t like me, huh?”

I stood a little straighter and pulled my books closer to my chest feeling defensive. Surprisingly, it was rather difficult to be the recipient of one of his charming smiles.

Especially after I’d just admitted I didn’t like him. Why did he have to be so frustratingly cute? I gave a small shake of my head and he chuckled. “Well, we might have to work on changing your mind.” He slipped his book bag up higher on his shoulder and flashed me one more grin. “I’ll see you later.”

He walked away, leaving me slightly flustered. I fought the urge to turn around and watch him saunter off. A slow, clapping noise startled me and I spun around to see the talking soul leaning against the lockers with that blasted, crooked grin.

“Impressive. A female with enough nerve to admit she can be wrong, apologize, and offer to rectify the situation.” I rolled my eyes and sighed, knowing the hallway wasn’t completely empty so responding wouldn’t be possible. “Go away,” I hissed anyway, before turning to head for the cafeteria.

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I stood in my living room, frustrated over losing control of the situation in my meeting with Leif. I’d gone to the library prepared to set up our scheduled tutoring and I’d even made notes in the handbook Mr. Yorkley gave to all the tutors. I’d gone to the trouble of creating a schedule for Leif to use, making notes of the days and times of our sessions. I wrote out instructions for him on what to bring and how to take notes in class. Everything seemed so cut and dry. Yet, nothing had gone as planned. I hadn’t taken into consideration that studying with Leif last period would be impossible since all football players must report to the field during last period. I also hadn’t thought about his afternoon practices and his evening job at his uncle’s surf shop. The doorbell rang before I could get any more upset over nothing going the way I’d planned. I couldn’t shake my irritation as I opened the door.

Leif smiled apologetically, “I’m really sorry about this. I feel bad you’re having to work around my schedule. I know seven is late and, well, I’m sorry.” The steam I’d managed to work up all evening as I’d thought about having to work around Leif evaporated. He seemed sincere and a little nervous. This wasn’t the way I expected him to act. Where was his arrogance? Was he always so nice? Surely not. The guy had dated the wicked witch of the southern coast for two years. I stepped back to let him in.

“That’s okay. Go ahead and sit at the table and I’ll get us something to drink. Do you like root beer?” I asked, walking toward the fridge so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

“That’s great, thanks.”

I took my time, getting the sodas out of the fridge and opening them before walking back to the kitchen table. This would be the first time I’d ever really talked to Leif other than the brief conversations yesterday and today.

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“I brought the schedule for class and what all is expected in this course. I have one week before the first speech is due and it needs to be on something I feel strongly about.” Okay. I was a tutor. I could do this. He was just another student who needed my help. “So, we need to decide what you’re passionate about.” He chuckled and I glanced up from his syllabus. “What?” I asked, when I saw his amused expression.

“What I’m passionate about?”

I rolled my eyes and held up the syllabus. “You know, something you feel strongly about. Like your purpose or platform.”

He nodded with his amused grin still in place.

“Passionate, I like that. Let’s think of something I’m passionate about.”

This one shouldn’t take him long to figure out. Some football topic or sports related issue had to be swirling around in his head. I reached over to open the notebook.

“Got any ideas?” I asked.

He appeared deep in thought. It surprised me a little.

How deep could one get when it came to football? “The importance of adoption.”

I started to write down his answer as his words slowly sank in. Adoption? He wanted to write about adoption?

“Okay,” I replied wondering if he would elaborate on why he wanted to discuss this. I completely agreed with him, but how could Mr. Popular be passionate about something so important?

He studied the pencil in his hand and flipped it back and forth between his fingers. I could tell he was deciding on how to explain to me why he wanted to write about adoption. So I managed to keep my mouth shut and wait. Finally he glanced up at me. “I was adopted after living in foster homes for five years. I’d given up hope that I would get a family by the time I turned nine because most people want babies. I was given a chance most nine year old foster kids only dream of.” 23