The Haunted - Jessica Verday [51]
“Have you tried to touch anyone else?”
“Yeah. Kids at the high school, my dad, strangers on the street… Hell, I even went church-hopping. Figured for sure that if anyone could see me or touch me, it would be a priest. But they slipped between my hands just as easy as the rest.” I thought back to that night in my room, and the next day at the library when he’d kissed me. “How were you able to… ?” I felt myself blushing. “How could you kiss me at the library?
Shouldn’t that have been impossible? And before I left, that day at the river when I found you in the rain, you said you could only touch me for one day. What does that mean?” He looked away, and I had to strain to hear his answer. “I can only touch you on my death day. November first. I touched your face in your room because it was after midnight. And that’s why I wanted you to meet me at the library that day. Why I was so adamant that you didn’t forget.”
“Why didn’t you stay longer? In my room? If you could only touch me then, why were you in such a hurry to… leave?”
“I wasn’t sure how much, exactly, I could… do,” he said. “That’s why I picked the library.
Public place and all.”
My ears grew warmer as I realized what he meant. I coughed once and cleared my throat.
“How did you figure it out? The first time. How did you know you could touch me on that day?”
“On the first anniversary of my death, the year before, I was downtown. I didn’t even know what day it was, but I bumped into someone. Literally. Normally, I’d just pass right through them, but that day I didn’t.
“At first I thought something had changed. People saw me. They heard me. For the first time in a whole year.” His eyes grew sad. “Then I passed a newspaper stand and saw that it was November first. I put two and two together.”
He looked up at me. “I wanted to go see my dad. Almost did, too. I wanted to tell him what had happened to me, and that I was sorry. But then I thought about how traumatic it would be seeing your dead son a year after his car accident, so I didn’t. I ended up just sitting in a park all day. Doing what I did every other day. Watching the people go by.”
“That must have been hard,” I said. “To finally be a part of it, and yet still be on the outside.”
Caspian nodded.
“And then the next day? It was the same again?”
Another nod. “Back to being a ghost.”
I looked down at my hands. “When did you find me?”
“Last year. It was spring. I followed you, but then you left. I remember, because I could see the flowers blooming. They were pink. I knew right away that something with you was different.”
“What is it with colors? You said something before about seeing colors around me.” He nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. In the half-light, the white-blond strands were muted. But that black streak was still as bold as ever.
“I can’t see colors anywhere else except around you. Normally everything I see is gray. It’s like living in this shadow world. But around you…” He made an arching shape with his hands.
“There’s a… bubble or something that surrounds you. Your eyes, your hair, your clothes.” He laughed. “Even the tree you stood next to shared your color. When you moved, I could see the green grass under your feet.”
He stopped suddenly and leaned forward, saying very intently, “It’s exhilarating, Abbey.
You exhilarate me.”
My heart lurched, and I gave him a stern look. “There you go again. Saying things that make me—”A huge yawn interrupted me, and I broke off, embarrassed beyond belief.
“Why don’t you lie down on the bench?” Caspian suggested. “I have a pillow.” He stood up again and went to a spot on the far side of the room. Then he brought back not only a pillow, but also the black jacket I’d picked up before.
He held both out to me. “Even though I don’t need to sleep, it helps to have something that reminds me of… before. Sorry, I don’t have a blanket. Will this jacket be okay?”
“Yes, on one condition.”
He cocked his head at me, waiting for me to go on.
“Can you come over here? To sit on the floor by the bench?” He came closer, and I took the pillow first. Then