After I dropped Murph off, I went to Big Al’s to meet up with Lindsey and her friends. The hangout was off to a pretty rocky start so far. It certainly hadn''t helped that I had shown up fashionably late.


    Wait, was forty minutes still considered fashionable? Hell, I had no idea what the rules were around lateness, or who the hell even controlled what those words meant, but I was probably pushing the limit.


    Either way, the situation didn’t get any better once I got to the building and realized that the hostess had stuck our group of six in a big circular booth located in the back of the building.


    That one specific booth next to the patio doors, was one of worst tables in the restaurant. Not just because it was cramped and cold, but because it was also a known mouse hotbed.


    Big Al, being the cheap bastard he was, refused to get a proper exterminator, so there was a non-zero chance a whole family of little vermin were scurrying beneath us as we sat there. The thought caused the hairs on my arm to stand up.


    As if those things weren''t bad enough, the awkward silence between each round of small talk was really starting to get on my nerves. I had so many other things I needed to do that didn''t involve sitting there like a kid in detention.


    This current round of silence had gone on for what had to be a good two minutes at this point. I glanced around the table waiting for someone to speak, but no one spoke. Against my better judgement, I was about to break the silence myself, when a phantom tickle ran up my leg.


    My brain immediately pictured a little mouse trying to scurry up my leg to get to the collection of mostly uneaten food at the table. It caused me to involuntarily shiver which hadn''t gone unnoticed.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I caught one of the girls glancing at me. I didn’t know her name, but she wore a pink undershirt beneath a black spaghetti-strap tank top, long black-and-pink striped arm warmers, and a black choker that wrapped tightly around her neck.


    Now I was no expert in women''s fashion, but I had stepped inside a hot topic once to purchase a t-shirt, so I felt pretty qualified to guess her entire look came from there.


    Actually, come to think of it, most of the group looked like they had also walked straight out of a Spencers or Hot Topic too.


    The only “normal” looking people at the table, and by normal I meant not emo, were Lindsey and I. Lindsey sat there in a bright pink American Eagle polo, with a white puka shell necklace that dangled down across her neck.


    Either way, to anyone that came into the restaurant, our table probably looked like we didn’t belong together, and they wouldn’t have been wrong. It was pretty clear Lindsey and I ran in very different circles.


    To be honest, judging by the nervous energy at the table, I started to question how well she knew them either. I don’t know, maybe that was just me picking up on my own tension.


    I reached down and shoved a cold bite of a hush puppy into my mouth. No one else was eating, which made me feel both self-conscious and, frankly, a little judged. But at least it helped to distract me from the silence.


    “So,” Lindsey said, the word stretched out as she tried to finally cut through the awkward silence, “does anyone have fun plans this summer?”


    “Come on, Lindsey, just ask him,” one of the guys said, gesturing toward me.


    I froze mid swallow. My eyes flicked to Lindsey, then back to him.


    “Jacob stop it!” she hissed, smacking him on the shoulder.


    The boy slammed his hand on the table, making a visible banging sound, “You know I hate that name Lindsey. I go by the name Asher now!”


    “And last week you were Triton. No one can keep up with you,” Lindsey replied.


    Apparently they did know each other. Interesting. That brought up a whole slew of other questions, but the big two were how the hell did these two know each other and what the fuck were they talking about? I decided to start with the easy one.


    “What’s the question?” I interrupted.


    “It’s nothing,” Lindsey said quickly. “He’s just being dumb.”


    “Did you see the dead body?” the girl who caught my shiver asked.


    “Jessica!” Lindsey blurted out, sounding genuinely horrified. “I’m so sorry for my friends.”


    I sat there frozen, the vision of Dr. Klanderman''s lifeless body replayed like a movie in my head. Slowly, I pushed the vision back to the depths of my mind and tried to regain control.


    Unfortunately, it didn''t work. A jolt of anger shot through me and I felt the grip on my hands tighten. Had this been the real reason they invited me to dinner? To make fun of the Cottonhead. I should have fucking known. I felt myself slouch down in my seat, saying nothing in reply.


    Finally, Asher broke the awkward silence in the booth.


    “Hey woah, It’s cool, man. Honestly, it would be badass if you had,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.


    “Yeah dude, I’ve always wanted to see a dead body. That’d be fucking metal” the other boy said.


    Trenton was a skinny guy with large gauge earrings that smelled faintly of cigarette smoke. He appeared to be quite a bit older than the rest of us


    “Trenton’s right,” Asher replied, ”If you did, that would have been metal.”


    They had no idea what they were talking about. I had seen two dead bodies this month alone. It didn’t matter if they were man or monster. Each one destroyed a piece of what was once me. Stripped me of my innocence. The fact they thought it''d be so cool was frankly insulting.


    “Guys,” Lindsey groaned. “I didn’t invite him so you could all bring up his trauma.”


    “It’s fine,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I really believed it, “I didn’t see the body up close. Just when they took it out in a bag.”


    “That’s still dope,” the girl I now knew as Jessica said.


    A new voice spoke up, the last girl in the group. She resembled Jessica with her edgy clothes and dark black hair, but this girl had purple highlights to go along with the look. “Did you know the guy who did it?”


    My eyes flicked toward the patio door, toward where Josiah stood, then back to her.


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    “I’m sorry?” I said, feigning ignorance.


    She followed my gaze toward the door, then back to me. Her expression sharpened, like she was trying to read through my bullshit, “The guy who they said did it? I heard he stabbed the guy with some illegal drug and caused him to overdose.”


    A bead of sweat slipped down my forehead. Where the hell had she heard that from? That was definitely not in any news report I saw, and the only people there at the time of the stabbing wouldn’t have blabbed.


    The whole table sat in silence, eyes locked on me. I felt the walls around me start to cave in.


    “No. I may have seen him once or twice, but I didn’t know him,” I lied.


    The girl sat back in her seat, then looked me over. I let out a subtle sigh of relief as she returned to her chair visibly disappointed with my answer, but at least she seemed to believe my words.


    Luckily Jessica, was quick to change the subject.


    “Man, I bet that building was just crawling with spirits,” Jessica said curling her fingers. A smile formed on her face that stretched quite literally from ear to ear.


    “Jessica is sort of a medium. That means she can speak to the dead,” Lindsey said.


    “Tell him about the spirit you contacted at school,” Asher interjected.


    My ears perked up at that comment, “Wait, you talked to a ghost at Ravenwood?”


    Although my bullshit meter was through the roof, if there was any chance this girl was telling the truth I had to find out what she knew.


    She reached down, then pulled a small portable box out of her backpack and placed it on the table. Then she opened the box displaying a folded board complete with the alphabet and a set of numbers.


    “Wait, is that a Ouija board?” I asked. At this point, my bull shit meter was all the way to full.


    “Yeah, it was my grandma''s board. She was a clairvoyant,” Jessica said.


    “You should tell him what the ghost said,” Trenton said.


    “Guys this was not what we planned,” Lindsey interjected.


    I lifted my hand up slightly, “No, it’s ok.” I shifted my focus to Jessica, “What did it say?”


    Jessica looked to Lindsey for the ok. Once she nodded, Jessica looked back at me and began, “It was three words.”


    She took a deep breath, then pulled a piece of paper out and placed it on the table, “The first word was Cotton. Considering the town of Cottonwood was nearby, we assumed maybe that’s what they were referring to.”


    “To be clear, I still think it had something to do with t-shirts,” Asher said.


    “Oh my god, would you let me finish?” Jessica replied, shooting a glaring stare at Asher.


    Asher scrunched back into his seat and threw up his hands, “Fine. Continue.”


    “We tried again and luckily they kept speaking. They gave the word Serenity next.”


    “Serenity?” I asked.


    “Yeah, we had no idea what that meant. We were hoping you’d know,” Jessica said.


    “Me? Why me?”


    Without saying a word, she slid the paper across the table. Slowly, I unraveled the paper. There were three words on it in badly written cursive. I sat there dumbfounded.


    “The third and last word we got from them was Joe. We didn’t really know what to make of the message. But once you got out, Lindsey pointed out that your name was Joe and you were in Cottonwood. After we ran out of options, we decided to bring you in. Obviously it''s a bit of a stretch, but we thought you might know something.”


    “Well some of us did.” Asher said.


    Lindsey punched him in the shoulder to stop him before he could continue.


    Then she reached over, and grabbed my hand in hers. She stared into my eyes. Her eyes looked somber, as if she was recalling a dark memory from her past.


    “I know it might sound absolutely crazy and I didn’t believe it at first either,” she said, wiping a tear from her eyes before she continued.


    “After my mom died last year, I was in a dark place. I started skipping school and experimenting with drugs.”


    I felt her grip on my hand tighten as she fought to get her story out. I thought back to our Spanish class, only now remembering the weeks she would disappear. Man, I was so caught up in my own life I hadn’t even noticed.


    Slowly, she gained back the nerve to continue, “I overdosed two months ago last Tuesday. I shouldn’t have made it, but against all odds, Jessica found me in the girls bathroom. She visited me in the hospital every day I was there and once she knew what happened, she convinced me to try a seance. After that, I became a believer.”


    Jessica reached over and rested her hand on Lindsey''s shoulder.


    “Afterward, I introduced her to the group,” Jessica said.


    “I’m sorry I brought you here under false pretenses. We knew this was a stretch, but with the school year coming to a close, we thought it was worth a shot,” Lindsey said.


    Suddenly this group made much more sense. And this whole meetup was so they could ask me about the ghost, which was strangely convenient timing.


    “It’s ok,” I replied.


    Before I could ask anything else, like how the hell that ghost knew my name before today, my phone buzzed in my pocket.


    I pulled it out, and immediately recognized the number.


    “Sorry guys, I have to take this. I’ll be right back,” I said. I slid out of the booth and made for the door.


    ###


    Outside, the patio smelled like regret and cigarettes. A couple of smokers stood around, smoke shooting from their lips.


    I slipped past them, heading around the side of Big Al’s where we dumped the trash. It was a quiet, secluded part of the building where the bus boys liked to hang out to avoid Big Al.


    I pressed the phone to my ear as I walked. “Naomi?”


    “Boy, why do you have this phone,” she snapped before I could say anything else. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is?”


    She was mad. More than I expected. Which was surprising given how mad I had already expected her to be.


    “But I...”


    “But nothing,” she cut in, voice low and sharp. “If anyone else knew about that phone, they could be tracking you right now. You need to get rid of it the second we hang up. Do you understand?”


    I glanced at Josiah, who had drifted toward the dumpster, staring at something in the shadows.


    Naomi was right. I hadn’t thought before I acted. I should’ve tossed the phone. After this call, I would. Probably.


    “Yes ma''am,” I said. “It was stupid. I just… couldn’t hand it over to the cops. You saw what they did to cover up things that day.”


    She sighed, long and deep. “I understand, but you can’t keep making decisions like this on your own. If you needed a phone, you should’ve just asked me. I’ll get you one.”


    I thought about the house she kept on the west side of Ravenwood. I couldn’t ask her to spend money on me.


    “I appreciate it, but I...”


    “It’s not an offer,” she interrupted. “I need a better way to keep tabs on you anyway. Now, about the girl you texted me about. Her name was Linh Nguy?n, but she went by Michelle. She was supposed to be a key witness in a lawsuit against Karl Roche years ago. Then one of the victims disappeared, and she went dark. Alex found the victim, sadly deceased, but we never could put everything together before he passed."


    She took a moment, before continuing, "Why are you asking me about her?”


    “I found Michelle,” I said directly.


    There was a pause. Then, “Where?”


    “In my high school gym. She’s dead.”


    Another pause. A heavier one.


    I looked down, realizing I’d said it too casually. I was getting way too comfortable around death and I didn''t love what it was doing to me.


    “I see,” Naomi said finally. “Poor girl, I met her once. She was a sweet heart.”


    When I finally looked back up, Josiah was waving me over, his expression serious.


    Against my better judgment, I stepped toward him.


    And froze.


    Stuffed into a bush beside the dumpster was a pile of skin and bones. Identical to the one from Cottonwood. And the warehouse.


    Shit, had he been tracking me?


    I felt myself get light headed. My breath caught, my fingers went numb, and the phone slipped from my grasp, hitting the pavement with a crack.


    Shit!


    I bent down, picked up the phone, and dusted it off. A long, thin crack ran across the screen, like a scar.


    “What happened?” Naomi asked.


    I pressed the phone back to my ear. “Sorry. I dropped the phone,” I whispered.


    “Joe,” she said, voice sharper now. “What’s wrong?”


    I swallowed. “Naomi… I think he’s here. Somewhere in Big Al''s.”


    “Stay there. I’m on my way.”