He, at least, just listens. I’m still mad at him for not being strong enough to stay alive. He’s so selfish sometimes. But we’ll figure things out. He loved you so much. I wish I could find someone who’d love me like that.” Her mood dropped a degree. “I miss you both so much.” A sniff turned into a whimper. Arianne fished out a tissue from her dress pocket and blew her nose. “I know I promised not to cry. So sue me.” She chased away her stray tears.
The scent of Old Spice aftershave passed by.
“Good morning, Mr. Freeman,” Arianne greeted. “Ben’s waiting.”
A callused hand touched her cheek.
Mr. Freeman never spoke when he came around, and Arianne didn’t push him. She waited until his concrete- heavy feet moved away before continuing.
“I wish I could do more for him. But until he wants my help, there’s only so much I can offer.” Arianne breathed in the cusp of spring and summer, tilting her head to receive a kiss from the sun. Niko’s question the night before entered her mind.
“He asked me out last night,” she said. “I’m not sure how to respond. Dad says we dated. Darla went crazy because apparently Niko and I were in love, but I don’t remember any of that, Carrie. Sometimes Niko gets really intense. Even if I can’t see him, I can feel the way he looks at me, like I’m about to vanish into thin air or something. And the way he follows me everywhere…It freaks me out a little. I let him come to the house because he says he wants to help me.” Arianne played with the wadded ball of tissue in her hands. “It’s either talk to him or go to therapy. He’s sweet and he really does help. I wouldn’t be here talking to you if he wasn’t.”
Blades of grass rubbed against each other in the breeze to create a hushed
“I know.” Arianne nodded once. “I should give him a chance. Darla stabbed him, did I tell you that? Oh, wait, I guess I did. And I know that’s not a good excuse to agree to go on a date with him, right?” She slapped the stone. “Don’t call it a pity date. It’s not like that. I don’t understand how I feel. He makes me laugh. He teaches me how to move on, move forward. And he actually quoted Kofi Annan. Can you believe it? ‘To live is to choose.’” She imitated Niko’s soft yet often serious voice.
Beyond the reach of her senses, a figure stood under the shade of the massive oak that watched over the residents and visitors of Blackwood Cemetery. He studied her a moment longer. Then he replaced the baseball cap he’d removed earlier, covering his sandy locks from view. He made sure he had no curious onlookers before he disappeared.
Acknowledgments
I write this section with much love and great appreciation.
I always begin by thanking my parents. They are the two great pillars that keep my foundation strong. Thank you for planting my feet firmly on the ground and bursting every bubble of hot air that dare inflate. I will love you both always and forever.
Secondly, I would like to thank Lisa for believing in
I would also like to thank Elizabeth for accepting
To Traci, publicist ninja, thank you for your constant emails and unfailing support. Promoting
To Jennifer, editor/fangirl, thank you for your wonderful insight into the story of
Angie, super critique partner, thank you for being there with me all the way, especially when my own agent thought this story was pure crap. Thank you for your awesomeness even if you live a million miles away. I promise, one day, we will meet. That acceptance letter is in the mail, sis. I know it is.
To Mel, for being a friend any crazy person would wish for. Thank you for laughing with me and for all the gossip. My life is severely dull without you in it. I will write your story one day. I miss you already.
A special thanks goes to Southville International for their continued support. I wouldn’t have been a writer if I hadn’t walked your halls.
And I cannot end this without thanking you, dear reader. Thank you for sitting in at the RUSA meeting, climbing up the ladder to Ben’s room, seeing dead people with Arianne, and reaping the souls of Georgia with Niko. Tell your friends. See you in book two!
Happy reading!
About the Author
When Kate Evangelista was told she had a knack for writing stories, she did the next best thing: entered medical school. After realizing she wasn’t going to be the next Doogie Howser, M.D., Kate wandered into the Literature department of her university and never looked back. Today, she is in possession of a piece of paper that says to the world she owns a Literature degree. To make matters worse, she took Master’s courses in creative writing. In the end, she realized to be a writer, none of what she had mattered. What really mattered? Writing. Plain and simple, honest to God, sitting in front of her computer, writing. Today, she has four completed young adult novels.
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