Page 52 of Within These County Lines

He bounces his eyebrows and sticks out his tongue. “Watch this.” He slides out of the booth and saunters to the counter. A second later, he returns with a napkin dispenser. “Need more napkins?” He smirks.

Just then, another waitress walks by the counter, pauses, and does a double take. “Hey, Brynn!” she calls out. “Can you grab napkins for the counter settings? I thought I already put some out.”

I stifle a laugh.

“See.” Xander shrugs. “People are too busy looking at their phones these days to notice anything weird.”

He returns the dispenser back to its original place. The waitress walks by us again after helping a table and spots the napkins now that they’re out of Xander’s clutches. “Wow, thanks, Brynn.” She taps the counter. “That was fast.”

I narrow my eyes. “Okay, so you’re definitely smarter than you let on.”

His grin widens. “I’m glad you think so. But I won’t be satisfied until I figure out how to break through the internet and cell signals to actually communicate with people. So far, every message I send just vanishes.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve tried texting my mom. Emails too. But nothing ever delivers.” He takes a long sip of his shake.

A chill spreads through my limbs. I lace my fingers together to keep them from trembling. “That’s been happening to me.”

His hand pauses around his cup. “How?”

I exhale sharply. “My ex . . . Murray. He was texting me, but I wasn’t getting any of the messages. I thought he was lying. My friend Whitley had to set up our last meeting here and—oh my god.”

Xander sits up straighter. “Are you okay?”

I push to my feet, spin in a circle, then collapse back into the booth. “I had a fight with Murray here. Just two tables over.” I point at the spot. “But it wasn’t a fight. He couldn’t see or hear me. I was invisible.”

My breath stutters as I replay the meeting in my mind. Murray kept checking the time, glancing at the door, waiting. He wasn’t ignoring me. He thought I hadn’t shown up.

“It happened after the Ardor Tree. I just didn’t realize he couldn’t see me at the time.” I put my hands to the side of my head. “I’ve been like this longer than I’ve thought.”

Xander nods. “Do you think we weren’t killed . . . but cursed or something?”

“And that’s why we can see each other. Because we share the same curse.”

“We have to figure out what’s going on with that tree.”

I bite my nail, then turn toward the faded photo of Penango’s Main Street hanging on the wall.

“I’ve been listening to this podcast about Appalachian folklore. Every mystery or curse in these mountains has an origin story.”

“Right.”

“We need to find ours.” I point to the photo again, this time on purpose. “The Ardor Tree is part of Penango’s history. We just have to dig deep enough.”

Xander exhales. “I have been looking, you know.”

I arch an eyebrow. “But I bet you haven’t gone through the county archives at the government building.”

His grin returns. “I certainly haven’t. You’ve been keeping this from me? What do they even have there?”

He slides out of the booth and stands. The snug sleeves of his T-shirt stretch over his shoulders. His sharp jawline cuts through the neon diner lights.

His presence is magnetic, and before I even think about it, I’m standing too.

“I can take you there,” I say, my voice softer than intended. I catch his next breath in my mouth.

He leans in just slightly. “Then let’s get out of here.”