Brush with Death by E.J. Stevens
Chapter 4
Calvin
I wanted to reach out and pull Yuki to my chest. I wished with all my heart that I could hold her close and shield her from the horrors of Wakefield High. But then she wouldn’t be the same girl that I loved.
Yuki has always been amazing. We’ve been friends since elementary school and even then, she was tiny and pale, like a fragile china doll. But she was also courageous and true to herself. In the words of Mahatma Ghandi, “Strength does not come from physical capacity. It comes from an indomitable will.”
Yuki never followed fads or tried to fit in even though it meant she was often left out, and always last to be picked for teams. I think the other kids at school, and in our neighborhood, were afraid of her. Yuki didn’t have any friends until she met me and Emma.
Yuki also had the most terrible luck of anyone that I had ever met. She always sat in the broken chair, was given the textbook with missing pages, and if there was a single patch of ice her feet would find it.
I think what amazed me was her ability to brush it off and move on. Most kids would have cried or blamed someone else for their bad luck, but Yuki would just smile and act like nothing ever happened. I knew that I had to get to know her. She was the strongest most incredible person that I had ever met, and she still is.
I don’t want to change Yuki, but lately the desire to wipe away the frown lines, as she scrunched up her white powdered forehead, was almost too strong to resist. It is hard being in love with someone like Yuki, especially for a guy with my upbringing.
Though I didn’t realize it until recently, I was raised by werewolves.
My parents, and many of the other influential adults from my childhood, are members of a werewolf pack. If one member of our pack is in danger, the others rush in to help defend that individual. I am sure that this has influenced the way I react when my friends are threatened. Yuki and Emma may be human, but they are part of my pack in all the ways that matter. I would lay down my life to defend them.
But how do you protect those you love from their own thoughts and emotions? The short answer is; you don’t. I can’t fight all of Yuki’s battles for her. In fact, she’d kick my furry butt if I tried. And deep down, I know that this problem between Emma and Yuki is about more than who Emma chooses to date.
Everything is changing, and Yuki doesn’t like change. Graduation is just around the corner, a looming specter carrying a sledgehammer to smash the glass houses of our high school existence. Wakefield High has not been kind to Yuki, and though I’m sure she won’t be sentimental about the daily abuse from other students, I’m also certain that she’s not ready for this chapter in her life to end.
I wonder if that is the reason why she hasn’t made any post-high school plans. Yuki is normally extremely proactive, almost obsessively preparing for challenges in advance, but she’s the only one of our friends who doesn’t have plans for after graduation.
Gordy will be going to film school to study computer animation, Katie is enrolled in an early childhood education program, Emma has been accepted to Tufts Veterinary School, and I will remain here in Maine to watch over my pack with Simon, my werewolf lieutenant, at my side. Although I don’t wish to be separated from Yuki, I am concerned that she hasn’t yet voiced an interest in her future.
Perhaps she still worries that there won’t be one.
Yuki faced possible death and insanity when the veil between worlds thinned last Samhain. While the rest of Wakefield bobbed for apples, walked the hedge maze of horror, and went door to door trick-o’-treating for candy, Yuki, Emma, Simon, and I turned my cabin into a bunker against an army of hungry spirits.
We survived last Samhain together, but what will happen to Yuki when we are all living apart?
Chapter 5
Emma
“I have to go,” I said, grabbing my bag and car keys. “I’m going to be late.”
“You could play hooky with a painfully handsome werewolf,” Simon said, smirking and waggling his eyebrows.
“Why would I do that?” I said while adjusting my soy cream colored scarf. “I like school. Well, the learning part, anyway. Plus, I have to keep perfect attendance between now and graduation. I’m lucky they’re letting me accept my diploma this year, considering all of the days I missed after the accident.”
So much had changed since that night when Yuki and I had sped off to Witchtrot Road in search of answers. I felt a pang of regret that we still weren’t talking to each other. I love Yuki, but she is the most bullheaded, dogged, pigheaded…gah! Now she has me abusing the names of poor innocent animals.
“You may be the only woman alive to turn me down so cruelly,” he said, pseudo-gasping and grabbing at his chest. “How shall I go on living?”
“Oh my god, Simon,” I said. I rolled my eyes at him, but a treacherous smile reached my lips. “You are such a drama queen.”
“King,” he said.
“Whatever,” I said, kissing him on the cheek. I knew better than to kiss Simon on the lips when I was in a hurry. “I have to go.”
“Farewell, my queen,” he said, waving. “Adieu!”
“See you after school,” I said, rushing for the cabin door.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said.
I could feel his eyes on my back, like scorching hot embers, as I closed the door and walked across a bed of pine needles to my car. My cheeks warmed and my grin widened as I sat behind the wheel. I knew Simon would be the first thing I saw as I exited the building at the end of the school day.
We could catch up on kisses then.
Chapter 6
Yuki
I was glad to escape the cloying truck interior. I hadn’t realized how strong the wet dog smell had become until I sucked in a breath of exhaust-tinged air. Cal must be really worried about something.
Maybe he had a test today? We all had final exams next week, our last scholarly obligation before graduating, but some of the teachers were squeezing our brains dry with last minute tests and quizzes. Sadists.
I squeezed Cal’s hand and bumped hips. That brought a grin to his lips and the wet dog smell diminished.
Cal is much better at keeping his wolf under wraps than just a few months ago. He’s gained an amazing amount of control over his wolf spirit since that horrible night last fall. I still shudder when I remember just how close he came to having his secret discovered because of my actions. I know that it wasn't my fault. My brain accepts that, but my heart rebels.
It had all happened at the homecoming dance, a night that should have been a fun escape from smelly ghosts and looming Samhain worries. Without yet knowing my power to call Cal's wolf through dance, I strode out onto the dance floor and stomped out some killer moves. They were nearly killer in a very bad way. Calling Cal's wolf caused him to transform—risking potential violence, exposing his secret, and jeopardizing the pack’s safety.
It was the worst night of my life. Considering how terrifying Samhain was, that's saying a lot. With Emma’s help, we managed to sneak Cal out of the school dance, into her car, and to the cabin behind Cal’s house. Unfortunately, shapeshifting werewolves don’t travel well inside moving vehicles. Cal broke his arm, but it could have been much worse. We were lucky.
After that night, Simon began training Cal to control his wolf and helped me to understand my connection with the dead, with Cal’s wolf spirit, and with my spirit guide. None of us wanted another night like the homecoming dance. But controlling a strong wolf spirit isn’t easy, and Cal has more stress than most guys his age. As alpha he has responsibilities to his pack, something I know he worries about. He also, like me, had to survive these last weeks of high school. It’s amazing he doesn’t turn furry, like, every five minutes.
Cal’s newfound control and easy smile were both monumental. Too bad I couldn’t celebrate by kissing those luscious grinning lips.
Instead, I turned my attention to the social battlefield. It wouldn’t pay to be distracted when threat
Usually, I can skip across the pavement like I have springs in the soles of my stompy boots and helium balloons attached to my black beribboned hair. But now there were chinks in my emotional armor, and I had no idea how to repair the fissures.
My heart, always so strong in the past, was like the fishnet stockings that clung to my legs—torn, shredded, and full of gaping holes.
Chapter 7
Emma
Tires squealed as I swung my car into the allotted parking spot. Only a few stragglers remained outside the school doors. A familiar shaggy head towered over a petite girl dressed in black.
Great. Just freaking awesome. If I wanted to beat the tardy bell and the potential black mark on my school record, I was going to have to enter the building alongside Cal and Yuki. Not my favorite peeps at the moment.
I grabbed my bag with shaking hands, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car. No way was I letting the whole ex-BFF awkwardness mess up my chances for college. Plus, how bad could it be?
I’ve faced down corporate jerks and their security teams multiple times while protesting for animal rights. I never let those monsters get under my skin, so why worry about facing Yuki?
“Becaussse ssshe’s your bessst friend,” a little voice in my head answered. It sounded suspiciously like a snake.
Snakes started being able to talk to me a few months ago. It still freaks me out. I like snakes and all, but having them speak directly into my brain was so not normal. At first, it had helped me to understand how Yuki felt about sensing ghosts and getting messages from her dung beetle spirit guide—not that it helped me understand her current behavior.
I did wish she’d get over herself and start talking to me again, if only so I could ask if she too had developed a habit of giving her inner self a voice like her spirit guide. With Yuki out of the picture, and Cal keeping his distance, Simon was the only person left who I could talk to about all of this creepy supernatural stuff.
I knew that Simon would understand, he’s been aware of the voice of his wolf spirit since childhood, but I didn’t want to ruin the time we spent together. No, my time with Simon was an escape from all of my worries. For now, I wanted to keep it that way.
I would just have to get used to the sibilant voice in my head. No problem. Easssy peasssy.
I strode between cars, keeping my head down and moving as fast as I could without actually running. Maybe Yuki and Cal wouldn’t even notice me if I didn’t do anything to attract attention.
“Hey,” Gordy called. “Emma! Cal! Yuki! Wait up!” Gordy was crossing the parking lot toward us with Katie on his arm. They were both smiling and Katie waved at us as Gordy walked toward me and nodded at Cal. “Hey, man, you guys hear the tardy bell?”
“Please say it hasn’t rung yet,” Katie said. “I really don’t want to be grounded for graduation. I’d miss Gordy’s party.”
Katie’s red hair was sticking out in every direction and her cheeks were flushed. Someone had been busy with some extracurricular kissing this morning. I tried to hide the grin that twitched at the corner of my mouth.
Katie and Gordy were totally cute together. I was really happy that they were dating, but running into them when Calvin and Yuki were standing there was beyond uncomfortable. Not so long ago we were all a tightly knit group of friends. Too bad someone had ripped apart the stitches that held us together, unraveling the cozy blanket of our friendship and leaving just enough strands to hang ourselves with.
I ran a finger beneath my scarf, trying to swallow. I was not going to get all weepy now. I turned to Gordy so I wouldn’t have to see Yuki standing at Katie’s shoulder.
“You’re having a graduation party?” I asked.
“It’s more of a beach party,” he said, chewing on the hair that came to a point at his chin. “My uncle has a place up the coast, right on the beach. He said we can use the place the entire weekend of graduation. You’re all invited. You’ll come, right?”
“Um, sure,” I said.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Gordster,” Yuki said. She did one of those indecipherable handshakes with Gordy that involved fists, pinky fingers, and chest pounding. It reminded me of gorilla mating behavior.
“Of course we’ll come,” Calvin said. “Thanks man. You need us to bring anything?”
“No way,” Katie said. “I’m making vegan, veggie, and meat-lovers snacks—something for everyone. Just bring yourself.”
“And a surfboard,” Gordy said. “You surf, right Cal?”
“I’m more of a hiking guy myself, but I’ve been known to hit the waves,” he said. “It’s been years though.”
I tried to picture a wolf on a surfboard, and failed.
“I’m sure my uncle has a board you can use,” Gory said. “He’s about your size.”
“Cool,” Calvin said. “Um, Yuki?”
After Yuki’s enthusiastic handshake with Gordy, she’d stepped back to stare at me. She looked like an angry god, displeased by her people. Her frown was deep enough to trap entire villages.
“Is she bringing someone?” Yuki asked.
Yes, I was the “she” and Yuki was pointing straight at me.
“Oh, right,” Gordy said, looking from me to Yuki and back. “Of course you can bring a date if you want…”
“Never mind,” I said. We were already through the school doors, so I turned my back and headed down the hall.
That went well, my sarcastic side snarked. Not that I expected it to go any better. But why did my fingers feel bruised? Looking down, I found my hands wrapped around the straps of my bag, twisting like the pale fabric was Yuki’s neck.
I released the straps, smoothed out the creases, and walked to class.
Chapter 8
Yuki
I sat in class, fidgeting with the edge of my fingerless glove. The fabric was frayed, just like my nerves.
I wondered if I had nearly sabotaged Gordy’s party in an effort to avoid talking about my post-graduation plans. I just knew that everyone was going to sit around a bonfire on the beach, get all sappy, and talk about how they’d miss everyone when they were gone.
Everyone was leaving me.
Dude, snap out of it! I was turning into a totally depressed jerk.
It didn’t help that Emma might be there, snuggling up with Simon, while I was having my heart ripped out. I felt raw, like my skin had been rubbed off with sandpaper.
And I smelled pickles.
The golden glow of Jackson Green, a ghost who I had helped last October, hovered at my shoulder. He should have been in Heaven, or wherever spirits go when they find peace. I had helped him find his way into the light, but Jackson kept coming back.
The first time Jackson returned to me was on Samhain. He had been one of the ghosts who tried to protect me from The Grays. I knew it was him; I’d recognize that vinegar soaked smell impression anywhere.
But it wasn’t Samhain today. My eyes strayed to the wall calendar beside the chalkboard, with its days crossed off in bold sharpie and graduation day circled in red, turned to the month of June. No, it was definitely not Samhain, which was at the very end of October. The veil between worlds should have kept the man’s spirit where he belonged, but try telling that to Jackson.
My ghost pal had started showing up lately, whenever I was stressed. He seemed in tune with my emotions. Was I somehow calling him to me? I’d have to ask my spirit guide about that. It didn’t seem right, calling a ghost to me and disturbing his rest just because I was feeling grumpy.
I scribbled a reminder in the margin of my notebook; contact spirit guide about Mr. Pickle Pants. If anyone other than my closest friends read that, they’d think it
Too bad hovering ghosts can’t speak. I could use some good advice right now. The fact that I’d be willing to listen to the opinions of a dead guy who was murdered by his own wife showed how desperate I was.
He may not be able to speak, but Jackson and I could communicate. With my newly emerging ability to see glowing shapes of the dead, Jackson and I had developed a new means of communication. In the past, I’d create a makeshift Ouija board with the words YES, NO, and MAYBE and hope that the strength of the smell impression indicated which word a ghost was answering with. It could be accurate, but being overwhelmed by smelly ghosts was exhausting and left me with a killer headache.
Recently, I’d asked Jackson to try shining brighter to indicate his answer. Amazingly this new approach worked, and didn’t leave me a moaning, drooling mess. But using my ghostly guardian as an impromptu magic eight ball seemed all shades of wrong.
I’d just have to figure out my problems on my own.
I jumped as the bell rang out. I took a deep, steadying breath and headed for the door. Once in the hallway, I braced myself for the inevitable vampire bats that swarmed inside my stomach.
“Only two weeks left,” I muttered. “You can do this.”
Getting to my next class meant walking past a door that filled me with dread. The memory of the things that happened behind that door still made my hands shake and my knees feel weak. The hallway seemed to shrink, closing in on me as I neared the source of my fear.
The supply closet loomed like a monster from a nightmare, growing larger as the hallway narrowed and the rest of the school fell away into a darkness so black even the humming overhead lights couldn’t penetrate. The humming became a buzz as the roaring in my ears warned of a full-blown panic attack.