Water and Ghosts

Chapter 10

A grinning Nigel is waiting for me when we get back to school. I climb off the bus, telling I’ll see Glenden later, and hurry over to him.

Glenden understands me better now, and he told me some stories about his mom— who was always cruel to him and used him as a tool for her own needs— so I understand him. While he doesn’t really like his mom, I loved mine to death. Literally.

We both respect each other more now.

“Welcome back,” Nigel says, bringing me back to the present. He reaches forward and grabs my bags from me, ever the gentleman.

“Thanks,” I tell him, smiling. 

As we walk back to Grandma Colette’s house, I tell him all about the trip. And the bad news— that we have to cancel Wednesday homework days.

“Why?” Nigel asks, frowning.

“Because I’m going to start doing my elective homework with Glenden,” I say slowly, dragging out Glenden’s name. Nigel instantly scowls. “Hey, you get every other day of the week.”

“I know,” Nigel grumbles. “Just… be careful with him, okay?”

I bristle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I just… have my theories.” Nigel looks embarrassed.

“What?”

“I’m not going to say.”

And that is possibly the worst response he could give me, because now I’m dying to know.

I glare at him. “How dare you use my curiosity against me.”

He laughs, smiling innocently at me.

We enter Grandma Colette’s yard, and I smile when I see her standing at the back door, waiting for me. She smiles and opens her arms, saying, “welcome home.”

I run forward and hug her, breathing in the scent of lemons. I allow myself to relax for a moment.

When I pull back I smile. “It’s good to be home.” I turn to look at Nigel, finding him right behind me as he sets down my luggage. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” He smiles and waves before backing away. He leaves through the back gate, gone from sight in three seconds.

“How was the trip?” Grandma Colette asks as she leads me inside. I bring my stuff in with me.

“Good. I went hiking, we found a flower garden—”

“We?” Grandma Colette asks, catching the word.

“Yeah— I did everything with Glenden Flemmings.”

Grandma Colette frowns. “Be careful with him,” she says, repeating what Nigel told me. It rubs me the wrong way.

“Why?” I ask, frustrated. What does everyone have against him?

“He’s an orphan living in this town, Aqua, and I don’t know anything about him. There’s a reason I’m one of the town gossips.” Her eyes implore me to understand.

And I do. “It’s on purpose.”

She nods. “I know everyone, which helps me protect my family. I play the caring and useless grandmother very well. I know pretty much everyone’s secrets. But I have never been able to figure out Glenden’s.”

I wonder why Glenden didn’t mention that he’s an orphan like me. I didn’t know his mom died.

But… he talked about her in the present tense.

That boy just got a whole lot more mysterious and interesting.

School the next day is… boring. 

I don’t say anything to Glenden about his mom, but I wonder about it. A lot.

We actually talk in Magic Invention. We work together on a new project— a potion that forces you to fall asleep and stay that way for eight hours straight. And then we move on through our day.

Friday is much the same. Same old, same old.

When Saturday comes, I’m surprised when I wake up and find that it’s already 9:00. I haven’t slept-in in weeks.

I lay in bed, thinking about my grandmother’s lesson the day before.

She didn’t train me— I can control water without using my hands now. I’m stronger than I ever thought I would become. No, she told me the family motto.

Vai dove ti porta il fiume e diventa ciò che l’ocean richiede. Go where the river takes you and become what the ocean demands.

I feel like it’s a much more important way to say go with flow. Follow the path of life, and when you get to an ocean, fight to stay on top. Fight to be stronger. 

Even if that ocean is a sea of flames.

Nigel arrives, books in tow, right after lunch. He’s grinning as he enters the house without knocking, a formality that Grandma Colette told him to forget. “I don’t need the doorbell ringing all day every day,” she had said with a wink at Nigel. He strides over to where I’m sitting at the dining room table. He plops into the seat next to me.

“Which subject should we do first?” He asks. “Math or English?”

I groan. “We have more homework?”

“You missed three days of school. Of course we have more homework.” Nigel gives me a look. “You thought you were going to get off that easy?”

“A girl can dream,” I say, indignant. Nigel just laughs as I pull my math out. “Fine, let's get this over with.”

Nigel talks me through the notes I missed, touching my hand more than really necessary. I’m surprised to find that I don’t mind— and more than that, I like it. 

It takes us only an hour to get all of our work done. I pack up my stuff, zipping up my backpack and dropping it on the floor. I look up to see Nigel wearing his over one shoulder.

“Aren’t you staying?” I ask, confused. He always stays after we’re done with school.

“I can’t,” he says regretfully. “I’ve already got plans. But— that theory about Glenden?”

“Yes?” I say quickly. He’s going to tell me! Yes!

“I’ll tell you if you got to dinner with me tomorrow at Vagues D’eau.”

Vagues D’eau— a fancy sit down restaurant on Iron Avenue. It’s the type of place people go on dates.

Dates.

“Like a date?” I ask before I can stop myself, going into Nigel’s brown eyes.

He doesn’t break eye contact— he doesn’t even blink. “Yes.”

My heart leaps. “Okay,” I agree.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy.

I feel incredibly self conscious as I enter the restaurant Sunday evening. Nigel and I always go out for dinner on Sundays, but never like this. I mean, we’re both dressed up.

I went shopping while he was gone yesterday. I looked all afternoon until I found this dress; gold with lace over it for the top, and the maroon skirt made of silk. It goes down to right above my knees, and it has no sleeves— just straps that wrap around my neck. I put my hair up in a Dutch braid that wraps around my head, ending over my right shoulder. My makeup took twenty minutes alone. I’m even wearing gold heels. They’re only, like, an inch and a half, but still.

I feel much better once I see that Nigel is wearing slacks and a white button up with a tie that matches the color of my hair. He’s holding a single rose in his hands.

He brightens when he sees me, smiling. I walk over to him, smiling back. When I reach him, he says, “you look beautiful.” His voice is reverent.

I blush slightly, taking hold of the arm he offers me. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He glares at me for a moment, but just then an interested host walks up. 

“Table for two?” He asks, glancing between us.

“Yes, sir,” Nigel says happily. The host nods and leads us away, weaving between other tables until we get to a square with two chairs opposite each other. The host leaves with the parting words, “your waiter will be right with you.”

“Thank you,” Nigel and I say at the same time, and we laugh. We both sit down in our seats.

I lean forward immediately. “What are your theories?”

He chuckles again. “Right to the point, huh?”

I raise an eyebrow. “You know me, Nigel. I’ve only been dying to know since the second you told me you wouldn’t tell me.”

He grins. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Only for you.”

Ugh. I can’t not smile at that, rolling my eyes and groaning. “What did I do to deserve this t*****e?”

“You left me for three days.” Nigel pouts, playing the role.

I snort. “Wow.”

“Yeah, that was a little melodramatic,” he admits, looking slightly embarrassed.

I smile at him before looking down and picking up the menu. “Do you know what’s good here?”

“Nope. My parents always leave me behind whenever they come here.”

“Wow, you’re so useful.”

“I know,” he says brightly. Obviously ignoring my sarcasm. I laugh again, glancing over the menu. We’re silent for a few minutes as we decide what to get.

When I finally look up, I see Nigel already staring at me expectantly.

“I think I’m going to do the Pasta+ plate.” A bowl of spaghetti, garlic bread, and Caesar salad. 

“That’s a good choice. My mom says it’s really good. I’m going to go with my dad’s favorite: the fillet steak.”

Just then, a waiter walks up to our table. He has black hair and brown eyes, and is wearing a black and white outfit. White shirt and pants, and a black apron. “Good evening. My name is Alex and I’m going to be your waiter.” He takes out a notepad. “Can I get you two something to drink.”

Nigel looks at me again. 

“I’ll have a strawberry lemonade, please,” I tell Alex.

“We’re ready to order, too,” Nigel informs the waiter. 

“Excellent. What will you be having, miss?”

I tell him, and he writes it down lightning fast. He turns to Nigel. He orders his food and a Sprite.

As soon as Alex is gone, I ask, “so when are you going to tell me?”

“While we eat.”

I groan. I’m starting to realize I am not patient.

Alex returns with our drinks. We thank him, and I start sipping the strawberry lemonade. It tastes amazing.

“You know I don’t like lemonade?” Nigel says, taking a sip of his own drink. 

I lower mine immediately, staring at him. “What? How dare you! Lemonade is—”

Sprite comes out of Nigel’s nose as he snorts, and then starts gasping and laughing, saying, “it burns!”

And all I can do is sit here and c***k up.

I rock back and forth, totally dying of laughter. People look over at us in annoyance, but once they realize what happened they start chuckling and turning back to their own conversations. It takes me a good three minutes to stop laughing.

Nigel glares at me playfully as he cleans up the mess with his napkin. “You are a terrible person, making me do that in public.”

“Please don’t make me laugh again,” I say. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stop if you do.”

“I should make you laugh just for spite, then.”

“You’re mean!”

“I guess we’re equal,” he says, satisfied. I snicker.

We talk about school for a little bit until our dinner arrives. I dig into the pasta immediately. It’s soft and buttery, with Parmesan cheese on it. It’s delicious. A single bite of the garlic bread lets me know that it’s perfect, and the Caesar salad has the perfect amount of dressing.

“Good pick tonight, Nigel,” I compliment.

He seems to be greatly enjoying his steak and mashed potatoes. I choke back another fit of laughter.

Once we’re both done, I try again. “When are you going to tell me?”

Nigel sighs. “Right now.”

I perk up, and Nigel rolls his eyes. 

“Curious girl,” he mutters, but it sounds admiring. “Anyway, you know how I take that Spirits class?”

I’m confused already. “Yeah.”

“Well, one of the first things I learned was how to recognize each type of… supernatural. Vampires, werewolves, witches, and ghosts. Well,” Nigel continues, his voice deeper than usual, not to mention quiet, “ghosts are one of the hardest to recognize. Sometimes they glow. Sometimes they look like real humans. There are a bunch of different tells. Well, we finished early last year, so Ms. Axar told us about a very rare way that ghosts can be brought back from the dead.”

I’m captivated by every word.

“When ghosts are brought back, they are normal humans again. But, whoever brought them back has the power and ability to send them back to… ‘ghost land’, I guess. This causes ghosts to fear said person. They also have mood swings, or don’t quite know what to do with themselves. Maybe they’re from a different era, and they have to get used to the new one.”

My eyebrows are pulled down in confusion. “That’s really cool and all but, Nigel, how is this connected to Glenden? Glenden isn’t a ghost.”

“Then how do you explain the fact that I saw him leave the town and flicker out of existence?”

I’m skeptical. “I don’t know.”

“Exactly. Look. Glenden moved here and immediately bonded with the football boys. He became part of the popular group, and never deigned to talk to anyone outside of the group. He’s known around the school as the boy who never talks. But from the second you got here, he’s done nothing but talk to you. Everyone in the school was buzzing those first few days you were here. ‘Aqua Evans, the new girl who made Glenden Flemming start talking’.”

I feel so embarrassed right now. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

I put my head in my hands. I can’t believe I was so stupid. I don’t know what game Glenden is playing, but I need to figure it out.

“So you think Glenden is a ghost?” I ask Nigel out right, meeting his gaze. “Even though you have no proof and no good reason for suspecting it.”

Nigel looks offended. “I just told you—”

“What you think you saw. You don’t know for sure. Glenden has been nothing but kind to me—” that much is true “—and you’re here telling me to stay away from him because he might be a ghost, and he might be a ghost because you don’t like him and you want to blame it on something.” I stand up, pushing my chair back.

I don’t why I’m so angry. Maybe because I don’t like that Nigel is judging Glenden when the former doesn’t even know the latter. Or maybe it’s because I don’t want to believe in ghosts.

After all, if they do exist, then I have two haunting me. Following me, being able to see me but me never see them.

Especially with my mom, that makes it worse. Because I never really got to talk to her.

Without another word I walk away, angrily blinking back tears. I step outside into the night just as a cold wind blows past. I start walking home.

Someone grabs my wrist, and I don’t think. I just act.

I stop walking and slam into the body. Nigel grunts, and I freeze.

“Sorry,” I mumble, not meeting the eyes I know are imploring me to look at him, stepping away from him. I try pulling my arm from his grip, but he doesn’t let me.

“Aqua, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to offend you or… or anything.”

I try pulling away again. I just need to get away. I don’t want to cry in front of him.

“Aqua, please look at me. Talk to me. What did I say wrong?” His voice is desperate.

I finally look into his eyes, and he goes slack jawed as he sees the tears in mine.

He pulls me along until we’re standing in the shadows of the middle school’s playground. No one can see us here.

And then Nigel steps forward and hugs me, holding me together. I lean my head against his shoulder, fighting back sobs.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers, not moving.

“I don’t know,” I say, my voice cracking.

He pulls back slowly and leans down, grabbing my chin and forcing me to meet his eyes. “Tell me,” he breathes.

I shake my head as much as I can. “I don’t… I don’t know what came over me. I know Glenden now, and thinking about him as a ghost… scared me, I guess. But also…” I take a deep breath, my eyes fluttering. “If ghosts are really real, then how long has my mom been following me? How long as she been watch me grow up, without me knowing—”

And I break. 

The sobs come out and Nigel just hugs me, holding me close.

“I’m sorry, Aqua, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have said anything had I known.” He sounds like he regrets bringing up the conversation at dinner.

“You didn’t know because I didn’t tell you,” I say, sniffling and wiping away my tears carefully. I lower myself to the ground and tell him the same story I told Glenden in the mountains.

Nigel looks horror struck when I’m finished.

“I never got to really know her,” I say, my voice hoarse. “I hardly remember her. And it must be possible to talk to ghosts, if they are real, and the fact that I may have had a way to get to know her in the past decade but didn’t—” I cut myself off, unable to talk anymore. I look up and exhale, blinking back the tears.

“If ghosts are real,” I say, my voice soft and deep, “then I have two already haunting me. And that,” I say, looking into Nigel’s eyes, “is what terrifies me.”

He scoots over so that he’s right next to me. He wraps his arm around me, and I lean my head on his shoulder.

I feel like a burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I had no idea a burden was even there. 

The secret of my past.

“You know,” Nigel says, “just because I believe that ghosts are real doesn’t mean that you do. And one of us has to be wrong. What if it’s me?”

“But what if it’s me?” I whisper back.

“Well, do you want to focus on what connections you didn’t make in the past, or do you want to see if you could talk to your ghosts now?” Nigel says slowly, asking me a question he wants me to think about.

Focus on the last or look to the future?

“I think I want to know if ghosts are real first before I tackle that,” I say. “After all, my mom’s death is a frequent nightmare of mine. I don’t know if I’m ready to meet a nightmare, even if it is my mother.”

“I understand that,” Nigel says. He takes his arms back and stands up, offering me a hand. I take it and he pulls me up.

“But I think you are ready,” he continues. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. If it’s something you want, and you decide to go for it, you’ll be ready.”

I laugh sadly. “No, I’m—”

But then I can no longer talk because his lips cover mine.

Surprise drowns me in a wave at first, but then it turns into pleasure. My heart speeds up as my brain memorizes all the chaos of my emotions and the frenzied pounds of my heart all at once. Suddenly I’m aware of how cold the night is and how warm Nigel’s hands are, wrapped around mine. I’m aware of him. 

I close my eyes and kiss him back for an infinite second, pulling back slowly. I lean my forehead against his, biting my lip as I smile. I open my eyes to meet his gaze.

“I would say sorry if I meant it,” he says quietly.

I chuckle once. “I don’t want you to.”

“Good.” He kisses me again, and my heart jumps with surprise—and delight— again. He pulls back quickly but doesn’t let go of one of my hands. “Let’s get you home.”