Krysta's Curse (4 page)

“You two have to leave soon.”

My gaze shot up to see Sunny hovering above
us. Like a rain cloud on an already crappy day, her aura seemed to
cast a gloom on our table.

Why on earth did her parents name her Sunny?

“We just got here,” I snapped. Geez, I was
majorly on edge. Maybe PMS time was around the corner.

“Yeah.” She rolled her eyes in a much more
dramatic fashion than I could ever hope to imitate. “My boyfriend
wants me to close early.” Rolling her sleeves up to her elbows, she
turned her gaze to the window entrance while chewing on the ends of
her fingernails.

That’s when I noticed the bruise.

Not just any bruise, but a welt that swelled
across the entire length of her forearm like a red and purple
plague.

“That’s a huge bruise.” Jaw dropping, I
couldn’t help but gawk. “What happened?”

“None of your business,” she hissed,
shooting me daggers of venom from her narrowed eye slits.

Beside me, I heard Bryon clearing his throat
loudly through a chuckle.

He must have thought he was front row of a
boxing match between two rabid cats.

“Sorry for asking,” I grumbled, knowing my
eye roll wasn’t nearly as dramatic as hers.

“Sunny, what gives?”

The bark came from the café entrance. I
looked up to see some tall, wiry guy with a shaved head and too
many tattoos to count. He was glaring at Sunny with his top lip
turned up in a snarl.

The guy was probably in his early to mid-
twenties. With his lean, muscular arms and pale green eyes, he
could have been hot if he cleaned himself up, but something about
him gave me the creeps. He had an angry aura about him, and I just
couldn’t wait to leave.

Sunny’s wide gaze darted from him to me.
“You two have to go—now.”

Was that panic I read in her eyes?

I looked at Bryon, but he seemed to be
locked in a staring contest with the tattooed guy. Did he have some
kind of death wish?

“Bryon, let’s go,” I whispered.

When Bryon turned his gaze on me, I thought
I was looking at someone else. Not the totally sweet baby-faced boy
who sat next to me in science class. Nostrils flaring, eyes were on
fire. He looked like a wild animal ready to attack.

This guy was majorly pissed.

As he stood, I could see his hands were
clenched into two tight fists. Grabbing his binder, he looked at
Sunny. “Are you gonna be okay if we leave you here?”

“What are you, my babysitter?” she spat
through a shaky voice.

Grabbing my things, I stood and pulled on
Bryon’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”

My eyes darted to the guy still standing in
the doorway. His angry gaze was bearing down on us and I thought I
saw steam shooting from his ears. All I needed was a little red
flag and I was sure he would charge us.

Clutching Bryon’s shirtsleeve like it was my
lifeline, I pulled him out the door and past the raging bull. Bryon
and the guy exchanged glares and growls, coming within inches of
each other’s faces, but to my surprise, no one threw a punch.

“Now you know how she got that bruise,” he
mumbled as we made it to the pavement—still alive.

On the walk back to my apartment, we both
decided this study session was a total waste. As we turned the
corner, Bryon’s dad was waiting in his very expensive, luxury car.
Without saying a word, he flashed me a half-hearted smile before
walking to his dad’s car.

I had the feeling he’d be asking Mrs.
Jackson for a new partner come tomorrow.

My limbs still shook and I marveled at how I
made it all the way home without wetting my pants. Through all my
nocturnal experiences with dead people missing their limbs or
eyeballs, entrails hanging out of their stomachs, or knives
protruding from their chests, I’d never been more scared in my life
than that moment in the café.

My life seemed much less scary when I
thought of what Sunny had to endure with her boyfriend. I only
wondered how she could live like that.

****

“Have you seen my dad?” Sighing, I dropped
my book bag on the floor. Gertrude and Ed were still there,
hovering above me with their goofy expressions.

Well, at least they didn’t follow Bryon and
me to the café. Not that tonight could have gotten any worse.

“Yeah, he went out with the little lady,” Ed
replied.

Rolling my eyes, I kneeled on the floor.
“She’s no lady if she’s with my dad.”

I exhaled before folding my legs beneath me
in a meditative pose. After tonight, I really needed to de-
stress.

Breathe in, breathe out.

First, he felt sorry for me because I’m poor.

“What in tarnation is she doing?”

Ignoring Gertrude’s comment, I continued my
breathing exercises.

Sucking in a deep breath of air, I slowly
released, feeling the tension roll through my body and exit through
my fingertips.

Then, he said I was too skinny.

“Seems like she’s goin’ ta sleep Indian
style.” Grrrr. Dead people can be so annoying. Another deep breath
and a slow release.

It was pretty cool how he tried to defend Sunny,
even though she’s a b—

“Wake up, Emmy Jane!”

“All right, that’s it!” I glared at the dead
people. “I’m trying to meditate! Do you mind?”

Ed rubbed his translucent, scraggly beard.
“Med-a-what?”

“Never mind!” I yelled.

Obviously, they weren’t going to give me any
peace. Maybe if I talked to one of my friends, I’d calm down. Dad
promised he’d paid the cell phone bill today. Hopefully, he’d made
good on his promise. Opening my book bag, I reached to pull my cell
out of the holder.

Nothing.

Looking inside, I shuffled through papers
and pencils, but it wasn’t there.

Oh, crap.

Had I left it at Mocha Madness? Swearing, I
rubbed my aching temples.

“What’s the matter, Emmy?” Ed’s hollow voice
echoed from above.

“For the last time, I’m not Emmy!” I
yelled.

They both jumped, like a shock wave had
spiraled through the air, sending their spirits backward. I could
tell by their widened eyes and turned down mouths that I had
somehow hurt their feelings.

Great
.

“Look, I’m sorry, it’s just that I think I
left my cell at the espresso bar and I’m afraid to go back
there.”

Clasping both hands together, Gertrude’s
mouth turned up in a soft smile. “What’s there to be afraid of,
dear?”

“Cell? Espresso bar?” Ed itched his scalp,
his face scrunched in confusion.

“A cell is how we communicate. I punch some
numbers and my friend miles away can hear me. An espresso bar is a
place where they serve coffee. It’s also called a coffee shop.”

They both nodded, but I could tell by their
drawn brows that they were still confused. Maybe they did need to
go back to their graves.

“Look,” I groaned. “There’s this scary guy
there and I don’t want to go back.” Leaning back against our small
living room wall, I felt my limbs ice over at the thought of facing
tattoo guy again.

“What if we go with you?” Gertrude
asked.

Startled, my gaze scanned their smiling
faces. “What are you going to do if he messes with me?”

“We’ll mess right back.” Ed flashed a huge,
lopsided grin. “Don’t worry; we can cause quite a poltergeist if we
need to.”

Ghost bodyguards? Who would’ve thought?

****

The lights were still on and through the
glass window, I could see Sunny at the rear of the shop, her back
to the counter. I didn’t see tattoo guy. He was probably somewhere
in the back. Exhaling a deep breath, I opened the door and walked
inside. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ed and Gertrude slip in
through the windows.

I quickly scanned all the empty tables and
the little hot pink phone was not there.

My teeth began to chatter. I didn’t know if
the sudden chill that swept up my spine was due to fear or maybe
Sunny had the thermostat way too low. I tried to blame it on her,
but despite my personal ghostly bodyguards, I was ready to wet my
pants in fear.

“Hey,” I called to Sunny’s back through the
crack in my voice. “I just came to get my phone and then I’ll be
out of your way. Have you seen it?”

When she turned to me, I gasped at the huge
black and blue splotches on her face and across her neck. Her eyes
looked bloodshot and grotesque, like they were trying to pop out of
her face.

“Oh-mi-god, Sunny,” I breathed. “Are you
okay?” She looked at me with a glazed over expression. “It was my
boyfriend,” she spoke with no emotion in her voice. “He did
it.”

“Is he here?” I asked, feeling my limbs turn
to jelly.

Shoulders slumping, she shook her head.

Relief washed through me. “Maybe you should
quit going out with him.”

Turning her gaze upward, she looked dreamily
at the ceiling, right through the bodies of Gertrude and Ed. “I
never thought he’d go this far.”

Spying my phone on the counter next to the
register, I grabbed it and stuffed it in my pocket. Something about
this place gave me an even creepier feeling than before. I just
wanted to get out. Even though I didn’t like Sunny, I couldn’t just
leave her there. What if
he
came back?

“Do you want me to call for help or
something?” I asked while nervously fidgeting with the phone in my
pocket.

“No, it’s too late now.” Shaking her head,
she walked into the back room.

Watching the door slam behind her, I was
left with the most nauseating feeling in my gut. Swallowing a large
lump in my throat, I looked at the ghosts behind me.

Their expressions were heavy—grim.

Something about this night just didn’t feel
right. There was a stagnant weight in the air, and though I thought
I recognized the familiar feeling, my mind would not allow me to
acknowledge it. Turning sharply on my heel, I raced out the door
and back home to my apartment.

****

Facebook rant/Four a.m.

No use going back to sleep now. Dad just
came home from work, or maybe a bar.

I don’t know and I don’t care.

I woke up when I heard a crash in the
kitchen. Dad had fallen, shattering the bottle he was holding.
Blood and beer everywhere.

He sat on the floor, slumped against the
refrigerator door, swearing while he picked shards of glass from
his palm. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions like
he’d just lost a fight with a rabid cat. He reeked of cheap perfume
and rotten alcohol.

Gawd, I just wanted to puke.

I told him we needed to go to the emergency
room to remove the glass from his hand, but he swore at me and sent
me to my room.

In a way, I’m glad he hurt himself. He had
no business getting so drunk. What kind of a father is he,
anyway?

This is a time in my life when I need him
most. I need someone to talk to, not just about school and normal
teenage problems, but my ‘other’ issues.

After my encounter with Sunny tonight, I
should have been able to run to my dad for comfort.

AJ’s mom understands her gift because she
has psychic abilities, too. At least AJ has an adult she can talk
to.

My dad?

He can’t take care of himself. How can I
expect him to help me?

Dragging my feet
to the bus stop, I was vaguely aware of my actions as I slumped in
the puke-green vinyl seat. I barely slept last night. Something to
do with the gnawing fear in my gut.

And guilt.

I hadn’t done enough for Sunny. I should
have followed her to the back room, but I was afraid.

I’d tried calling them from my home phone
because my cell phone still hadn’t been turned on. No surprise that
my dad lied when he said he’d pay the bill.

It took me awhile to remember AJ had a
softball game and Sophie was the yearbook photographer assigned to
cover it. AJ’s coach didn’t allow phones in the dugout, and they
were playing against Central, our toughest rivals. The game
probably lasted late into the night.

So I was alone with no one to listen as I
confessed my fears. Well, except for the old people, but they cut
out not long after I got back to the apartment. And, of course, my
dad was out getting drunk. Wherever he was, he wasn’t there when I
needed him. I couldn’t tell him about my encounter with Sunny.

She seemed odd. Too odd. I didn’t like the
look of those bruises, especially the ones across her neck. I
didn’t like the glazed-over expression in her bugged- out eyes.

I thought about walking past the café on my
way to the bus stop, but I was too chicken.

And I hated myself for it.

Suddenly, all of my problems seemed
insignificant compared to Sunny’s. I just hoped it wasn’t as
serious as I feared.

The bus came to a halt. This was AJ and
Krysta’s stop. Maybe they’d be able to comfort me.

“Oh-mi-god, Krysta, we’re so glad you’re all
right!” Sophie squealed as she rushed down the aisle. AJ was right
behind her.

Looking into my friends’ grim faces, I knew
they had bad news.

Swallowing back the rising bile, I cleared
my throat. “What’s wrong?” I choked.

“We know you go to Mocha Madness, like every
night,” Sophie blurted while sliding into the seat next to me, her
eyes ready to pop out of her head. “We thought maybe you were
her
.”

“Her, who?” But I already knew the answer.
I’d felt it in my gut last night.

AJ’s expression was as hard as granite as
she faced me from the front seat. “A girl was murdered there last
night.”

The finality of AJ’s words sliced through my
stomach like a cold, hard blade.

She pointed to Paige who was in the seat
across from me, gaze engrossed on the screen of her cell phone.
“Paige’s sister just texted her the news. Said the girl was
strangled.”

“Krysta, are you okay?” Sophie asked, but
her voice sounded distant, like she was in a dream.