The Haunted - Jessica Verday [89]
Do I slip it into our next casual conversation?” I laughed bitterly. “Like we’re going to have any more of those. And to think that he was in my—” I stopped abruptly and shut my mouth.
“Was in your… ?”
I could feel my face heating up, and I shook my head.
“Come on,” he prodded. “Was he in your cereal bowl? Tea leaves? What?”
“Nothing.” I snapped. He didn’t respond, but just sat there quietly. Looking at me. “Oh, all right, fine,” I finally sighed. “He was in one of my dreams, okay? But then he sorta turned into you, and it was crazy.” His eyes widened. “Can we please get back on track here?” I said.
“People can’t control their dreams.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you have his phone number? You could call him.”
“That’s not exactly a conversation best suited to the phone, you know?”
“Do you want to go talk to him about it?” His green eyes held mine. “I’ll go with you.” Fear and excitement rose inside of me. “I don’t know…” I bit down on one thumbnail, worrying the edges with my teeth. “Could I? Should I?”
“Asking is the only way you’re going to find out for sure. And think of it this way: Without knowing, are you going to be able to sleep tonight?” No. “Good point. But I don’t know where he lives.” I stood up and went over to my desk, flipping the switch on my computer. “Google.”
Nervously tapping my fingers on the edge of my computer monitor, I waited for the computer to start up. But then the tapping noises started to make me irritated, and I switched to rolling one of my perfume bottles back and forth between my hands.
Finally, the computer stopped clicking and whirring, and I pulled up a search engine. Typ-ing in Ben’s full name and Sleepy Hollow, NY brought up a database listing in no time.
“Looks like he lives over by the high school,” I said. “Feel up for a walk?” Caspian stood. “Let’s go.”
We climbed out the window and crossed the yard, setting off in the direction of the school.
Twenty minutes later we reached Ben’s house, and I bounced from side to side on the balls of my feet, trying to psych myself up like a prizefighter getting ready for the ring. I carefully pushed the doorbell and then waited for someone to answer.
A middle-aged woman with brown hair opened it up. She was wearing a light-colored tunic and gray pants. A dish towel was suspended in one of her hands. “Can I help you?”
“Um, hi, Mrs. Bennett?” At her nod I continued. “I’m Abbey Browning. Ben is tutoring me?” A wide smile broke out across her face. “Oh yes, how are you, Abbey?”
“Good, thanks. Um, do you know where Ben is? I need to talk to him.” Her smile turned to a slight frown, and then it was gone. “He’s with his father. At the Christmas-tree farm, about five blocks away from here. Next to a vacant lot.” I nodded. “Okay, thanks.” I was already turning away from her.
“Do you want me to call him?” she asked.
I turned back. “No, thanks. I’ll surprise him. See ya, Mrs. Bennett.” I waved cheerfully and turned away again as soon as she shut the door.
Caspian and I made short work of the five blocks. The Christmas-tree farm, if you could even call it that, was a small strip of land. A very small strip of land. There were twenty or thirty baby trees, growing in rows.
A man was there, doing something with a bucket, and at first I didn’t see Ben. Then he stood up, and I realized that he’d been bending so low to the ground that I hadn’t seen him.
But now I could make out his curly hair.
“Ben!” I called, waving my arms in the air. He looked my way, and then said something to his dad before jogging over.
“Remember,” Caspian said. “He could have an excuse. Don’t fly off the handle right away.”
I gave a short, jerky nod.
“Abbey?” Ben said, getting closer. “What’s up? Why are you here?” I took a deep breath and clenched my fists, nails biting deep so that I would have something to distract me. Without waiting, or thinking, I plowed straight ahead. “I know, Ben.” He gave me a puzzled look. “Know what?”
“About you and Kristen. I found her diaries and you were