Page 15 of All Her Ghosts

(Coarse red thread winds through endless stone corridors, turn after turn.)

(Red ribbon binds two hands together, wrist to wrist and shimmering.)

I put the earbud in. The un-memories evaporate. Out in the hall, sharp-heeled footsteps grow closer. The stairwell door clanks, someone starting to push it open.

“Shit!” I swear. Scrambling outside, I drag Sebastian after me by the ear, barely giving him time to donkey-kick the door shut. We freeze, backs pressed against the metal, listening hard. Inside, muffled, the footsteps hesitate.

Oh, hell. Theyhadto have heard the door close.

“Please be a student,” I whisper under my breath, more exhale than sound. “Please, please, give me this one thing.”

Ten seconds inch past, every single one a slice of forever. Then, the footsteps pick up again. I freeze. Do we make a break for it? Hold the door shut and hope they think it’s locked? I glance at Sebastian for some kind of answer, only to find him muffling laughter into his hoodie sleeve.

The footsteps grow hollow. The stairs—oh my god, thank you, they’re climbing the stairs. It wasn’t the nurse on my trail, just some dawdling student headed back to class.

Relief leaves my knees watery, my lungs shivery with relief.

“What the hell,” I say, slapping his shoulder. Fighting against his contagious, idiot giggling, I force my twitching mouth flat, fixing him with a glare. “You were supposed to be my lookout.”

But Sebastian just grins at me.

“Oh, I was looking,” he says. His low whisper—the way hestaresat me, like he’s memorizing me in that moment—does weird fluttery things inside my rib cage. I swallow hard, face heating. My soul shivers, loose in its socket as Sebastian thumbs the wheel of my ancient MP3 player, picking a song at random, his eyes never dipping from mine to the blue-lit screen. “Well, Jenny? Shall we?”

If this is a leap, I’ll take it. If it’s a crossroads, I’ll run whatever road he’s on. Hands locked together, heads bent to keep our cord from pulling, we break into a jog. I mean to take us around the back side of the building, shotgun around the corner and down the winding drive, but halfway around, Sebastian tugs me off course.

“Not that way,” he says. Snatching up a metal trash can as we pass it, he directs us toward the iron fencing. “They’ll expect us to go through the front gate.”

“That fence is seven feet high, Sebastian. I can’t climb that,” I protest. “And by the way, that’s not my name.”

“You’ll do fine. I’ll help you.” Like flipping a water bottle, in one smooth motion he tosses the trash can, and it lands smack on its open mouth. “And mine’s not Sebastian. It’s Bas.”

I laugh. “No way your parents named you that.”

“I’m not convinced I have parents. Pretty sure the guy I live with stole me out of a shopping cart.”

He smiles, but somehow, I don’t think he’s joking. Bas hands me back my earbud with a fluttery bow and explodes into motion, vaulting up the trash can and onto the fence. It slants outward at the top, making it impossible for people to climb into the school grounds from outside.But exiting from this direction, it provides enough of a lip for Bas to perch like a smug little goblin, wiggling his fingers at me from the highest point of the fence.

“Throw me your bag, then come on up. I’ll catch you.”

My stomach tightens. My face burns. Suddenly, the music in my ear sounds like a party I wasn’t invited to.

I’d rather pull my teeth out, but I can’t see a way around it.

“I’m heavy,” I admit. “And anyway, that’s a hell of a drop.”

Bas shrugs.

“I promise I’ll catch you. As many times as you need.”

And I—

I’ve been cannonball sunk to the bottom of a swimming pool for so long, the lights and laughter dappled, distant echoes from another world. But the way he looks at me—all my deflections and wounded pride evaporate. Life rips through me like an inhale. My head breaks water for the first time I can remember, and I breathe, greedy, gasping—a drowning woman with two fists clenched on a second chance.

Belatedly, mouth dry, I manage, “Do you ever talk without flirting?”

Bas grins. “What, and waste the opportunity? Come on.” He crooks his fingers again. “You trust me?”

I don’t know this boy. I met him under a library table less than four hours ago. I didn’t even know the name he went by until just now. I don’t make friends. I barely even make acquaintances. Trust? Never met her.