Body and Soul

But as it turns out, I didn’t get a chance to do either.

“Will Kill?” Ben asked in disbelief and disgust from behind me.

I froze. Shit.

I forced myself to turn in his direction. I didn’t want him coming at my blind side.

He stumbled a step or two toward me, and I had to fight the urge to move back. “Who invited you?” he demanded.

It didn’t take much imagination to see Ben as a mean drunk.

“Stay calm,” Alona murmured. “He’s wasted.”

Oh, good, so he wouldn’t even feel it if I managed to hit him.

My heart pounding, I held my hands up. I was so very outnumbered here. It was worse than even that one time I’d gone into the first-tier section to talk to Alona. Add alcohol and I wasn’t sure what the results would be this time. Worse than a black eye, that was for sure. “I’m just here to get my friend.”

Ben snorted. “Should have known, crazy attracts crazy.”

Absurdly, someone in the crowd actually did that oooohsound, as though Ben had come up with some kind of magnificent burn instead of pretty much making up a nonsensical statement that contained only the insult of calling me crazy, which everyone had already assumed anyway. Whatever.

Alona yelped suddenly, and I turned to see that Erin/Lily had taken advantage of our distraction and scrambled out from underneath Alona and was ru

If she got away now, we might never be able to find her again. I lurched after her, but Ben grabbed my arm.

“Where do you think you’re going, man? We’re having a conversation.”

Alona rose to her feet unsteadily, still flickering. I yanked my arm free of Ben’s grasp and focused on her.

She tipped her head to one side to look at me, her hair gleaming in the torchlight and her eyes bright with unshed tears. She reached out and touched my face, her fingers alternating between warm and solid, and cold and barely there.

And I knew this was good-bye.

I shook my head mutely, tears welling. “Don’t.”

“Are you going to cry, Will Kill?” Ben demanded.

She leaned in to me, pressed her cheek against mine, and whispered, “Be careful,” then slipped away before I could grab her.

“No!” I started after her, but Ben stepped around to block me. I caught a glimpse of her passage through the crowd, people moving involuntarily away from a strange cold spot near them. But then she was gone, beyond the reach of the lights, and into the shadow of the woods.

“We’re not done talking about how you crashed my party, freak,” Ben said, giving me a shove. Others behind him—ambitious juniors, the new seniors now—circled in anticipation, beer fueling their need to prove something.

Suddenly I was weary. Tired of all this stupid posturing and bullshit when more important things—life-and-death matters—were going on.

I sighed. “Look, high school is over. And if you weren’t such a dickhead, you’d know that. We’re just people now, okay? All of us. And you’re not any better than—”

That’s when he punched me. Hard.

It hurt more than I’d thought, leaving Will behind. I didn’t want to do this alone. I didn’t want to die again…alone.

I shoved those thoughts away, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. Finding Erin.

Fortunately, even in the dark, it wasn’t that difficult. The moonlight was pretty bright…and she was crashing through the underbrush like a lovesick elephant.

“It’s called grace, and maybe a little coordination,” I muttered when I heard her hit the ground with a thud.

I paused for a second to catch my breath—it would take her longer to get back up and going again—and leaned forward, my hands on my knees. Unfortunately, I could see right through my lower half to the tree behind me, down to the detail on the bark.

With effort, I tried to shift to thinking happy thoughts. Mrs. Turner lighting up at the prospect of a shopping trip with her daughter. Will smiling at me. Will’s hand in mine. The way he would argue with me, not afraid to push back.

So many of them were related to Will and the last few months. Well, it kind of made sense. I hadn’t really lived until after I’d died, in some ways.

But this time, focusing on the positive didn’t seem to make any difference. I could still see through me. Which meant this was it.

I took a deep breath, feeling surprisingly calm at the idea. But there was one more thing I had to take care of.

I rallied my flagging strength and pushed myself forward to where I’d last heard Erin.

As expected, she was just picking herself up off the ground.

I folded my arms across my chest, hoping it made me look more imposing, which is, frankly, a tough feat when you’re mostly invisible. “Erin.”

She spun around, startled, and nearly fell down again.

Good grief.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, wobbling until she regained her balance.

Evidently she hadn’t heard me following her amid all the noise she was making. Shocking.

I huffed impatiently. “You know why I’m here.”

She laughed, swaying. How much had she had to drink?

“Nope, not yet,” she declared. “Not done with my turn yet.” She swiped her hands down her front, succeeding in removing some dead leaves and twigs.

I stalked toward her, closing the distance between us. “This isn’t a game.”

She stepped back warily. “Maybe not to you.”

“It shouldn’t be to you either, stupid.” Oops, there I went being negative again. Guess it didn’t matter now. “Where do you think you’re going to go?”

She glanced over her shoulder, deeper into the woods. “There’s got to be a through street or a highway or something…eventually.”

“Not like that.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean, you’ve been hanging around in the in-between for five years. How much longer do you think it will last? Another five years? Five days? All I can tell you is it won’t be forever, and it’s way less now that you’re blowing through energy carrying her around.” I nodded toward her appropriated body.

“You’re lying.”

“Nope, I’m not. I was in there once, remember? And look at me now.” I gestured down at the vague outline of my body.

Her eyes narrowed. “You’re only saying that because you want me out so you can take over again.”

“You honestly think I’m going to be able to do much of anything like this?” It pained me to admit that to her.

Her smug look returned. “Then I guess we’re done here.” But then she hiccuped, destroying what I’m sure she imagined was a triumphant moment.

I sighed. “Not even. Look, the girl whose body you’re wearing, she has a family.”

“So?”

“So…” I resisted the urge to add “you jerk,” because I wanted to have the time to finish the conversation. “She’s not a plaything. She’s a real person with people who care about her. You can’t just waltz around as her, doing whatever you want. They’re worried about her. Thinking she’s run off or been kidnapped or something.”

In fact, the image of Mrs. Turner hunched by the phone waiting for news, as she’d once sat by Lily’s bedside, waiting for her daughter to show some sign of life, killed me. I hated that I wouldn’t get to thank her, however indirectly, for all she’d done for me, even though she believed it was for her daughter. She…cared. Really cared. And it was, well, a nice experience, if an unfamiliar one.

Erin waved a dismissive hand. “Like you bothered with that when you were her.”

I gritted my teeth. “I did, actually.”

“Why?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that in death, just like in life, not everything is about you!” The words exploded out of my mouth before I had time to consider them, and when I did…I found I believed them.

Huh.