Imminent Past (Chapter 3)

~Chapter 3~

The next morning I woke to a very vivid light gleaming onto my face. At first I thought it was my aunt, thought she had seriously lost her mind and was shining a flashlight in my face, but when my eyes fluttered open I saw a bright streak of sunlight escaping through the blinds.

I scowled and threw myself onto my bed again to face the other way. The sun was so strange to me here, so unnaturally bright and vibrant, so annoyingly blinding. I couldn’t stand it. But I’d have to suck it up, because I wasn’t leaving here anytime soon. Again, the thought of running away eluded my mind, but it was shoved away by a loud hammering on my door. I jumped at the sound, jolting suddenly upright.

“Audrey, get up, hon! It’s nine-thirty!”

I threw a pillow at the door. It made a very hollow sound, and apparently Aunt Jill had heard it, because then I heard her laugh.

“Come outside and help me, dear!”

I angrily kicked the sheets off me and stood, glaring at the door as if it would somehow explode. Then I changed into a camisole and tattered jean shorts, which were the first things my hands touched in my dresser’s drawers. I pulled on my old sneakers and thrust the door open to find my aunt standing there, smirking almost like Kennedy.

“Put on a happy face,” she said, pinching my cheek. I slapped her hand away, but that only broadened her grin. She surveyed my appearance, her eyes lingering on my loose hair; I’d forgotten to pull it up. “You look nice. Leave your hair that way.” She turned and headed down the stairs, and I stood there and listened until her voice rang upstairs telling me to come down.

Some of my anger had evaporated, but I was still very annoyed. I shoved breakfast into my mouth—definitely not because I was in a hurry, but because I was so aggravated. Aunt Jill ate quickly too, then showed me outside.

The sun—though it was only morning—was already beginning to pester me. Its rays beat onto the skin of my back and I was sure I’d have a sunburn by the end of the day.

Jill showed me what to do. I was supposed to mow the lawn, then get to work on the scrubbing the windows from the outside. Then I was supposed to pluck the weeds from the ground, and fix the garden bordering the front of the house, which was so full of plants that I felt I’d get lost in there trying to pull them all out.

“And what’re you doing?” I asked irritably once she had finished giving me instructions.

She smiled. “Working in the backyard. Have fun.” She patted my back and set off towards the side of the house.

I grabbed the lawn mower. It was so much more grueling than it looked, mowing the lawn with the sun blazing heatedly over me. The lawn mower I was using was probably worth thousands at an antique store. It continued to break down, to my huge aggravation, and I had to kick it several times before it would start up again. The lawn wasn’t that large, but with the stupid mower it took my nearly an hour. As the day brightened, the sun became hotter and harder to ignore. I had to pull my hair into a long ponytail to avoid having it in my face. Once I had finished mowing, I took a long look at my hands, knowing I would have blisters soon enough.

I went inside to retrieve the window cleanings supplies, and once I was back outside, I noticed Charlie was leafing through the tools on the ground by the porch of his house. He smiled politely, and said a jaunty, “good morning,” before returning to work with whatever he was doing. I got to work on the windows.

It took forever to scrub off the huge marks that seemed to be etched onto the surface of the glass. My muscles were aching with effort to rid them. Each one took nearly ten minutes, and by the time I was done I needed another swig of water.

Pretty soon I became aware of Charlie’s loud voice giving orders to someone, and I looked over to see Kennedy in her faded baseball cap, who smiled mildly when my eyes met hers, a small thin woman with curly brown hair and a lined face, and a tall, dark-haired boy with a blank expression planted on his face. I continued to work on the windows, hoping they wouldn’t notice me, and soon enough I heard clanks and clatters and the sounds of hammers hitting a hard surface. I glanced over to see Charlie and the boy on the roof, wearing tool belts, hammering nails into the wood on the roof. The woman was spreading a thick white substance across the outer walls of the house. Kennedy was doing the same on another wall.

When I was finished with the windows, I was sure the sun was at its highest point. Charlie, Kennedy, and the two others didn’t stop working when I headed inside to the fresh air conditioning to have lunch. It was a quick meal, with very little conversation between Jill and me, and once it was over I was told to head back to work. With a groan, I moved towards the lawn, grabbing a pair of gloves on my way out. I began pulling at the weeds in the ground. There were so many that I lost count. Some were more difficult, as their roots were dug further into the ground, but it was the easiest task so far. I threw the plants in a bag and then proceeded to the garden in front of the house.

For a moment I just stood there staring at the wild mess of plants, the only sound the hammering and sawing from next door; while I was wondering how the hell I was supposed to turn this into an actual garden. I was lost, wondering where to start or if any snakes lurked underneath the thick greenery. Finally I gripped the first plant I saw and pulled hard. It wasn’t as deep as I’d thought, and because of the strength I’d used, that sent me reeling backwards until my back hit the ground.

I looked over at the Thatcher’s house to see Kennedy, sitting beside the dark-haired boy, smirking at her sandwich, looking like she was suppressing a laugh. The boy was eyeing Kennedy with a searching look. Stifling a smile myself, I stood, rubbing my backside, and threw the plant aside.

I continued to pull roots out of the ground until my hands were sore. Then I sat on the ground catching my breath, admiring my work. It hadn’t done much, but the garden looked a little better at least. I took a deep breath, hot air filling my lungs, and tugged at the closest plant to me. Eventually exhaustion reached my arms and legs, and I had to sit down to drag the plants from the earth. What I would give for the slightest breeze...

I saw no sign of Aunt Jill, but I knew I’d be cursing her for the rest of my life for this. The roasting temperature was really getting to me now. I made three trips for water in less than fifteen minutes because of how fast I was drinking down the bottles of water. The Thatchers resumed work once they were finished with their lunch, but I was sitting in front of the garden, bushed.

The sun was baking me to a crisp. I was filthy and sweaty. This morning my camisole had been a nice shade of white, and now it looked like it came in brown. My shorts were smeared with dry dirt all over. My arms were covered in a thin layer of dust, and my forehead was coated with sweat. I lied back onto the mowed grass and stared up at the cerulean blue sky. It looked strange looking up and seeing not one cloud, almost like I had been reduced to monochromatic vision. I loosened my ponytail and ran a hand through my dirty hair, wishing God would grant me the wish of a little wind. I began to wonder if it could rain where there were no clouds present, and then felt like an idiot for considering it. I was starting to get delusional.

I laid there for ten minutes, staring up at the bright cobalt sky, before sitting up again, and pulling on my gloves. I stood and brushed the dirt off my shorts, then grabbed at the nearest plant again and pulled at it.

This plant was very large, very thick and very ugly, and it was right in the middle of the garden. I tugged as hard as I could, but the thing seemed to be lodged into the ground. I kicked it, but that didn’t help at all; just brought a twinge of pain to my toe. I only managed to have a handful of twigs when trying to drag it out. I seriously considered asking Charlie to borrow his saw, because this plant was starting to irritate me. I heaved with all that I could, I struggled to jerk it out of the ground, but I had a feeling the roots were very long. I stared at my gloved hands, scowling, breathing hard. I was about to give up on it and just leave it there, though it was a hideous thing that my aunt would immediately tell me to remove. I looked around the plant for a part that wouldn’t break off if I were to pull it fiercely, and noticed a thick branch near the front.

I bent down and pulled at the plant, digging my hands underneath it to pry it out of the ground, but it was no use. My arms were aching. And still, stubbornly, I continued to try and pull it out of the earth though I knew it wasn’t possible without something to cut it out.

“You should use a shovel.”

I yelped at the sudden voice in my ear and fell backwards, so my backside hit the earth again. I blinked against the intense sunlight to see the silhouette of the dark-haired boy from next door over me, a smile playing his lips.

“Sorry,” he said, holding out a hand. I took it and let him help me up, brushing the dirt off myself again before looking at him.

He was much more handsome than I’d noticed, I realized. Dark green eyes, sharp bone structure, lean and muscular build, and tousled brown hair. He wore a red flannel shirt open over a tank top, with khaki shorts, an outfit similar to Charlie’s. Something struck me, and I was suddenly much more nervous than I’d been.

“I—uh—”

“I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that,” he said quickly, smirking quite like Kennedy.

My face reddened as I stopped my babbling. I sighed. I looked at him again, at the mischievous smile that looked so much more striking on his face, and suddenly realized the obvious.

“You’re—Kennedy’s brother, right?”

“Yeah.” He flashed a white smile. “Noah Thatcher.” He held out a hand.

I shook his hand, my pulse quickening. He had a very firm grip.

“And you’re Audrey?”

I nodded feebly, still looking him over. Something flickered through his dark green eyes when he said my name.

He smiled another charming smile. “Want me to help you out? You seemed to be having trouble with this...”

As much as I’d have loved to have a hot guy show me how to pull a plant out of the ground, I wouldn’t like the smug look on Jill’s face if she saw me.

“Um—my aunt said I should—”

“We’re neighbors, Audrey,” Noah murmured innocently, squatting and looking the plant over. A pang of something I didn’t recognize hit me when he said my name. His gaze returned to mine.

“Right,” I said quickly, and then sighed and pulled off my gloves, tossing them onto the ground.

“Do you have a shovel?”

“I think it’s in the shed, behind the house,” I mumbled, massaging my hands.

“Okay,” he muttered, standing and heading around the house. I followed him to a small structure behind the house. It looked as though it would fall at any moment. I stepped inside after him while he looked around, eyeing the small space with dislike. There were cobwebs in the corners, and I could see the dust particles in the bright beams of sunlight that shone through the cracks in the wood.

“Find it yet?” I asked Noah, who was busy on the floor, throwing things around.

“Nope,” he grunted, but after a few more seconds of looking around he stood with a small shovel in his hands. He looked around at the shed for the first time. “This thing is really old,” he said, an ounce of fascination in his tone.

“Very,” I agreed.

“D’you know how old, though?” he asked, grinning at me.

I shook my head, a little distracted by his dark emerald eyes.

“Nearly two hundred years,” he told me, watching my expression.

My eyes widened slightly, I hadn’t expected that old. He looked amused at the look in my face and slid out of the shed with the shovel in his hands. I followed behind, trying to keep up with his long strides.

“My uncle says he knew the people who lived here,” Noah murmured thoughtfully, almost to himself.

I didn’t respond, watching his face change. He cleared his throat and changed the subject.

“So where did you say you were from?”

“I didn’t. Portland,” I replied.

“Real rainy over there, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Bet you’re having a hard time adjusting here.”

“Right again,” I mumbled desolately.

“The sun’s not all that bad,” he said wistfully. “You’ll get used to it.”

“That’s what your sister said,” I said, smiling.

“Kennedy’s a smart kid,” Noah responded, returning my smile. “She doesn’t have her head in the clouds like most kids her age. She pays attention to what goes on.” He took a deep breath. “Now... where to start?”

He was looking down at the ugly, troublesome plant in the garden. I’d missed our trip back to the front yard; I was too immersed in our conversation to pay attention to my surroundings.

Noah shoved the shovel right into a thick branch of the plant, dug deep into the ground, then lifted it upwards. Already I could tell he was making more progress than I had all day.

“Noah, I should—”

“No, no, I’ve got it. You’ve been overworking yourself,” he said hastily, grunting as the shovel hit the ground again, plowing it deep into the earth, and again raising the shovel-load of dirt. The plant was starting to come out. All I could do was watch nervously as Noah did my work for me, which really wasn’t fair. He had been working all day too with Charlie, but every time I offered to help he told me he was fine.

“Trying to be the tough guy?” I asked after I’d suggested once again doing my own work. I eyed the lean muscles under the smooth skin of his arms, wondering if he wanted to show off.

I saw him roll his eyes. “I don’t boast.”

“Then let me do my own work.” I crossed my arms.

He’d repeated the endless process of digging the plant out of the ground so many times it was nearly out. He wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, pushing back his dark hair. “I don’t think you’re used to this.”

“What? Working?”

“Well...”

“I may not be used to it, but I’m trying to cope. Doing my work for me isn’t helping the situation, now is it?”

He stood and looked down at me, and I realized suddenly he was only a couple inches taller than me. His dark green eyes bored deeply into mine, and I felt like he was looking more through me. My heart quickened as he stared down at me, eyes raking over my face, but I didn’t look away. I realized where Kennedy had gotten that piercing gaze of hers.

“Alright then,” Noah said, thrusting the shovel at me with another flash of amusement in his eyes.

I took the shovel hastily and tried to repeat what he’d done. After a moment I realized the plant was too far out to bother doing this anymore, so I slipped on my gloves and tried pulling. Luckily, half of it came loose, its roots sticking out of the ground. Noah stood watching me, arms crossed over his chest.

I tugged at the plant until it eventually came out entirely, and then tossed it onto the pile of dead vegetation.

“Okay,” Noah said, smiling widely. “I misjudged you.”

I gave him an I-told-you-so look and looked down at the garden. “Looks like I’ll need the rake,” I muttered.

* * *

After fixing what was left to fix of the once horrendous garden, I took a great sigh of relief and went inside to grab a bottle two bottles of water. I offered one to Noah and he took it thankfully, continuing questioning me about every detail of my old life. The next couple hours were mostly that—sitting in the sweltering heat while he interrogated me about my friends and school, hobbies and what it was like to live in a place so wet.

I didn’t fail to notice that Noah didn’t ask me once about my parents. I figured Charlie had probably told him already they’d passed away, and he didn’t want to mention it. The closest he ever got to asking of my family was Jill, or wondering if I had any siblings.

“You’re an only child?” he said, once I’d answered his previous question.

We were sitting leaning against my house, in the shade of the building. It was still that dazzling shade of blue, the sun vibrant and torrid, but there was a light breeze drifting through the air now.

“Yep.” I took another swig of water, noting how unusually comfortable I felt in his presence, when I was almost always so anti-social.

“Humph,” he grunted, looking at the ground. “Lucky,” he muttered.

“Kennedy doesn’t seem like much of a pain,” I said, laughing. “I’d love to have her as my sister.”

He looked up. “Yeah—but she’s such a know-it-all.”

I laughed again and looked away to study the houses of my street, taking in each one’s appearance and thinking about what Noah had said.

“It’d be nice to have someone to talk to, though,” I murmured quietly.

Noah was silent for a couple seconds before saying, “I’d welcome the isolation, if I were you. You don’t have someone always on your back.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “Right. My aunt doesn’t count?”

“She’s just one person.”

“Who seems like fifty.” I looked at him again.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully.

“And, apparently, the word ‘isolation’ comes up as ‘abnormal’ in Jill’s dictionary.” I took another mouthful of water, watching his expression.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“I mean my aunt thinks there’s something wrong with me.” Once the words were out, I instantly regretted them. I bit my lip, watching his face change to deeper confusion, wishing intensely that I hadn’t said that.

“What’s wrong with wanting to be alone?” he asked, looking down at me.

“Ask her that,” I muttered, not wanting to give anything else away. I didn’t need this guy to think I was a freak; he’d find out my aunt’s opinion soon enough anyway.

Noah was silent, probably pondering what I’d said. I stared at the many houses again, unspeaking and wishing I knew what was going on in his head right now.

“Here comes the brain,” I heard Noah mutter.

I whipped my head around to see Kennedy approaching. She smiled as she moved towards me, and stopped when facing me.

“Hi, Audrey.”

“Hey, Kennedy.”

Her eyes strayed to her brother, and a smug look came over her face. “Mind if I join you guys?”

“Why not?” Noah sighed, and sprawled out on the ground on his back, staring up at the sky with his arms folded behind his head.

“What were you doing?” Kennedy asked me, sitting down beside me.

I shrugged, staring distractedly at Noah, who was gazing up at the sky. “Just talking.”

“Told you you’d like my brother,” Kennedy said, beaming.

I smiled slightly.

“What’d you say about me?” Noah asked, turning his head to look at her.

“I told Avery she was a lot like you,” Kennedy said. “Yesterday.”

“Oh.” He looked up at the sky again, and though he didn’t say it, I knew what he was thinking, because the same thing was running through my mind. I wasn’t much like Noah at all. He was outgoing, friendly and sarcastic, and I was unsociable and boring.

“Except Audrey’s quieter,” Kennedy added, as if reading my mind.

Noah looked over at her, eyes narrowed. “No, she’s not.”

“Yeah, she is,” Kennedy insisted, and then she looked at me. “At least, you were that way around your aunt.”

Noah folded his hands on his stomach, glancing at me. “Really?”

“That’s because my aunt pisses me off,” I muttered, looking away.

None of them pushed the subject, probably taking the surly look on my face as a warning. I ignored Kennedy and Noah talking behind me, since they weren’t really speaking to me, and looked instead at the other nice-looking lawns, all in much better condition than mine. My eyes wandered to the house next door—on my other side, not Kennedy and Noah’s house—and I examined once again its poor quality before looking back at Noah and his sister.

Noah was glaring at Kennedy, but Kennedy was smirking triumphantly.

“Hey, what’s with that house?” I asked, nodding over my shoulder towards the horrid building.

Noah sat up and looked around the corner of the house, over my shoulder, his face inches away from mine.

He made a face. “There used to be stories about that place... that it was ‘haunted’ or something.” He rolled his eyes. “But I’ve never seen anything freaky going in there. The owners left a couple years ago.”

I glanced back at the house, trying to ignore how close Noah’s face was to mine. “Looks like they were forced out,” I murmured softly.

“What?” asked Kennedy.

“There’s furniture in there, it’s all turned over,” I said, looking through one of the broken windows.

Noah looked confused. “Furniture? It’s empty in there, Avery,” he disagreed lightly, eyeing me.

“No there’s—” I stopped abruptly, looking over. There was furniture in there... I could see the dark shapes inside the room.

I stood.

“You have goose bumps,” Noah noticed, standing up too.

I rubbed my arms, looking at the house. “Well... that place is creepy.”

“Very,” Kennedy agreed. “I wouldn’t want to live there.”

“You’d make friends with all the ghosts,” Noah grumbled.

“There you are, Audrey!”

I turned to see Jill coming down the side of the house towards us, and looked away to hide my scowl.

“Oh—hello, there, Kennedy,” she said pleasantly, taking notice of the two beside me. Her eyes set upon Noah. “And you must be Noah?”

“Yeah.” He smiled civilly and shook her hand.

My aunt nodded, a strange look across her face, like she was examining a statue in a museum. She looked at me, one brow raised.

“They were helping me out,” I explained.

Jill nodded again and that smug expression I was dreading to see crossed her face. “So—did you finish?”

“Yes.”

“Great. I need help in the attic.”

Sighing in aggravation, I looked away again to glare at the sinister house next door again.

“Can we help?” Kennedy asked at once.

“Sure,” Aunt Jill said courteously. “Thank you very much, dear. This way.”

I didn’t notice I was rooted to the spot, staring at the ugly house next door, until Noah’s voice broke my trance.

“Coming, Audrey?”

Glancing fleetingly over my shoulder, I nodded dismally and followed him inside the house.

In the attic, my aunt was already telling Kennedy where to start. I looked around the vast dusty room, knowing it would take ages to empty everything out.

The room was cluttered with countless possessions—old antiques upon the shelves, aged furniture, the oldest lamp I’d ever seen, innumerable boxes stacked over each other, many bags in the middle of all of it, a large wooden chest with a inch of dust layering its surface, even a coffin in the corner of the room.

A coffin?

I stared uncertainly at it. Weren’t attics supposed to be the strangest room in a house? The place where you see bats, or zombies or secret chambers or whatever the hell they put in movies and on TV? I almost had the urge to laugh looking at it, but the thought that a decaying body might lie within sent a shiver down my spine.

“Are you listening, Audrey?”

Jill’s voice snapped me out of my scrutinizing. “Huh?”

She sighed. “I want you guys to empty the boxes and throw out whatever you think isn’t necessary, and then get to work sweeping.”

I nodded numbly, looking at Noah, who was also gazing intently at the dusty coffin.

“Alright.” Aunt Jill sighed. “Thanks again, you two,” she said to Kennedy and Noah, patting Noah’s arm on the way out. “I’ll call you guys down for dinner later!” she called up the stairs as she descended.

Once she was gone, Noah blew out a big breath.

“Wow. Let’s get to work, then.” He clapped his hands together, chuckling at my stricken expression.

Emptying the attic took forever. There was hardly room for conversation; we were all very busy with our section of the room. Unpacking the numerous boxes was the worst part for me. Each held something different: old porcelain dolls with their faces cracked, clothes so worn and tattered I wondered why they’d bothered to keep them, old photographs in black and white, books and novels with their covers ragged and their spines destroyed. The bags were filled mostly with clothes and blankets and quilts and whatnot. Noah and Kennedy joked about what they found, and I found myself effortlessly laughing with them, enjoying myself somewhat. I found Noah had a very exuberant spirit that was nice to have around, and I was smiling at the arguments he had with his sister.

My already aching arms were pained by the time I’d finished my twenty-second box.

I wiped sweat off my brow and looked around for Noah and Kennedy. Kennedy was hidden behind the towering boxes, while Noah was busy digging through the large wooden chest, grimacing at something inside.

“Ugh. Look at this,” he said.

Since he was closest to me, I sidled over to see what he was looking at. Kennedy’s way was blocked by a wall of boxes.

“What is it?” she called.

“Disgusting,” I said, looking down at a dead rat, revolted.

The chest, though hugely wide, was empty except for the rotting rat in the corner, whose eye sockets were empty and whose bones were visible.

Noah shot me a secretive look and put a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he whispered, and picked up the rat by its tail.

I stared with one hand over my mouth as he lifted the thing into the air and threw it over the barrier of boxes, and momentarily there was a shriek from the other side.

“Eww! Noah!” Kennedy yelled at him, while her brother burst into laughter.

I smacked him on the arm with what I had in my hand, which was a book.

“Why’d you do that?” I whispered, but couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Get it out of here!” Kennedy shouted.

Noah, still snickering, crossed went around to grab the rat and toss it into the trash. I could hear Kennedy still shouting at him; I smiled and looked down at the chest. It was empty except for the cobwebs in the corners, and a few spiders.

Noah returned, grinning, and looked down at the trunk.

“Weird. Who’d stash a dead rat in there?”

I shrugged. “Maybe it wasn’t dead when they put it in there.”

“Who’d stash a live rat in there?”

I shrugged again, laughing. “I don’t know, I don’t know who lived here before!”

Noah shut the trunk, shoving it out of the way. Above it was the filthy coffin, which he eyed suspiciously. He glanced at me.

“Should I open it?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but shut it again, biting my lip hesitantly.

“Open what?” Kennedy called, and made her way around the boxes to come see what we were looking at. Her eyes widened. “Whoa! A coffin?”

I stared at it pensively, while Noah’s fingers slid around the edges of the box for a way to open it.

“Don’t open it!” I whispered urgently, pulling his shoulder back.

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Audrey, what’s the worst that could be in there? A vampire?”

I stared wordlessly up at him, still unsure.

“Open it!” Kennedy insisted.

Noah smiled and looked down at me. “If it was a dead person they’d be buried, right? There’s probably nothing in there,” he said, giving me a reassuring glance. He nudged my shoulder; my heart accelerated. “I’ll protect you guys from whatever’s in there,” he joked. “And Kennedy, tell Mom if I don’t come back.”

I shoved his shoulder; he grinned and felt around the box again.

I held my breath, wanting to look away but at the same time dying to see what was inside...

But when Noah lifted the top of the coffin to expose what was inside, I couldn’t help but look away.

“Aw,” Kennedy moaned in disappointment.

I looked back, knowing it was safe because there probably would’ve been another shriek from Kennedy if it was something hugely grotesque.

The coffin was empty. The inside was white, and looked as if someone had lied there just seconds ago; the fabric seemed to sink down a little in the middle. But it was empty.

I let out a sigh of relief. Noah looked even more disappointed than his sister.

“Man, I was hoping for some bloody corpse or something,” he muttered.

I smiled. Kennedy bustled away, towards her side of the room.

He made to close the coffin, but a shape in the corner caught my eye.

“Wait—” I said quickly, reaching over to stop him. I grabbed the square object in the corner and held it up.

“A book?” Noah asked, puzzled.

“Looks like a diary,” I murmured, turning over the velvet-covered book in my hands. It was in perfect condition, smooth and undusted.

“Open it. Maybe we’ll get sucked into another dimension or something,” said Noah.

I flipped through the pages, but they were blank. Still, a strange, jolting feeling came over me, like I’d just been electrocuted without knowing it. My senses were suddenly much more alert.

“It’s blank,” I murmured, still looking the book over.

“Check the inside cover,” Noah advised.

“Why?”

“It might have a name.”

I flipped open the spotless, pristine cover and found a name was scrawled in the corner.

“Margaret G. Riviera,” I said quietly, reading the name.

“Weird.”

“Who’d leave a book sealed in a coffin?”

“Apparently Margaret,” Noah said, his expression as baffled as I felt. “But why?”

I shrugged, looking around the attic. “This place is creeping me out.”

He chuckled. “That’s what attics do. Let’s keep looking. Maybe if we’re lucky I’ll find a disembodied hand.”

Still deeply confused, I made my way across the room with the book in my hand and continued to rummage through the boxes and bags.

While we continued to clean I didn’t find anything else abnormal—though there was a decorative cat I could’ve sworn was stuffed—and my mind was on the book. I’d placed it on the windowsill, not wanting to throw it out, for some reason. I wasn’t sure why—I’d checked it; I knew it was empty, but something about it drew me towards it. Maybe it was the sheer mystery that fascinated me.

We worked through the rest of the clutter; throwing away more than half of what we’d found. By the time we were finished the room was cleared, except for the boxes of worthless possessions stacked on top of each other against one wall. After sweeping—which took a fair amount of time and caused us to cough like we had a head cold. But by the time we were finished, I felt the book we’d found really held nothing—I’d flipped through it so many times but I saw it was blank every time, though that same strange jolt of electricity seemed to surge through me whenever I opened it—and I asked Noah to lift the empty coffin so I could throw it back in there.

Sweeping dust out of the air, I looked around the room. “Looks like we’re done,” I said, spluttering a cough.

“Just in time, too,” Noah said, glancing out the window. “It’s nearly sundown.”

I looked at the setting sun out the window, momentarily distracted, but then propped my broom against the wall, leaning beside it.

“I’m tired,” Kennedy said in a resigned voice.

I chuckled feebly. “It’s stuffy in here,” I noted.

“And I’m hungry,” Kennedy added.

“Well, if you two are done complaining,” Noah said, smirking, “we should go get some dinner.”

Dinner was a silent affair, with very little say from me or Kennedy. Aunt Jill, however, seemed absorbed in knowing every little detail of Noah’s life—where he’s from, what college he’s going to, how old he is and the type of people he hangs out with. I was at the point of telling my aunt to shut up already, because her presence alone was a mere embarrassment, and I didn’t need any more negatives to add to Noah’s outlook on me. Noah didn’t seem annoyed by my aunt’s prying, in fact he seemed glad to answer her questions—or maybe that’s the way it seemed on the outside.

“Are you guys going home?” Jill asked, as Noah set his plate in the sink.

He turned and shrugged. “I guess. Audrey can come with us and meet Gladys if she wants.”

Jill looked at me; I had to fight the urge to scowl at the arrogant expression on her face. “I’ll be over later,” she said, and headed over to wash the dishes.

Noah nodded towards the door, and I moved towards it, surprised at how cold it was outside. Kenney closed the door behind her.

“Do I need a jacket?” I asked Noah, praying the conditions were cold enough to where I could finally wear my sweater.

“Nah, it’s not that cold,” he said, gesturing for me to head over.

I followed him across my yard and to his unfinished house, Kennedy on my heels. I expected him to knock—but Noah simply walked right in; Kennedy and I trailing behind.

I looked around his house; it was very informal, comfortable and casual. The living room was to our right, and a large flat-screen hung suspended over a fireplace. A snug burgundy couch sat in front of it, two other sofas on each side facing each other. There was a rug with an abstract design lying in the middle, a coffee table over it.

There was an opening in the wall, like a glassless window, and I could see the woman I’d seen earlier watching the television, her attention drifting when she spotted us.

Noah led me towards the kitchen, which I found was right around the corner. The woman had been washing dishes, watching the television through the window. The kitchen looked just as casual as the living room, with a strangely shaped counter sitting in the middle, stools bordering it.

“And you must be Audrey, am I right?” the woman said, smiling kindly at me.

I nodded, smiling slightly, shaking her hand when she held it out.

“Nice to meet you, dear, I’m Gladys.”

“Nice to meet you,” I murmured, looking around. Kennedy sat at the counter and Noah was looking through the fridge. He pulled out two sodas and sat down beside Kennedy.

“Sit, if you want,” he said, nodding at the stools.

I did so obediently, feeling more at home here than I had in my new home.

“You have a very nice house,” I murmured.

“Thank you,” Gladys said, smiling.

“Very comfortable.”

“Well, we need it, as Noah’s always having friends over.” She looked pointedly at him.

I took the soda he handed me and took a sip.

“So what’d you guys do today?” Gladys asked absentmindedly, turning back to continue washing plates and silverware.

“We helped Jill and Audrey clean out their attic.”

“I should pay you,” I said.

Gladys chuckled. “Was there a lot in there?”

“Tons,” Kennedy replied, grinning. “And there was a coffin. And Noah” –she gave him a look of distaste— “threw a dead rat at me.”

Gladys eyebrows went up. “Noah!” she said in a scornful tone.

“What?” he said innocently. “It’s not like it was alive,” he muttered under his breath.

Gladys shook her head.

“Come on,” Noah said, taking my arm. “Let’s get away from this crab.”

I chuckled and stood. Hands on my shoulders—which had my heart beating at a frantic pattern —he led me past the kitchen and down the hall, at the door at the very end of the corridor. Kennedy following, he pushed the door open.

“My room,” he declared, gesturing.

I looked around. Noah’s room was not very big, but it looked very comfy. There was a bed facing another flat-screen, which hung above a dresser, and several bean bag chairs scattered around the room, armchairs and a loveseat by the window. It was pretty clean, I had to admit, for a guys room, excluding the bottles of root beer loitering his desk where a backpack sat, its contents spilling out onto the counter.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy,” he muttered, looking around himself while Kennedy went to throw herself into one of the beanbag chairs.

“It’s so much more comfortable than my place,” I sighed, looking around and wishing this was my room.

I looked back to see him smiling crookedly and shaking his head. He went over to the TV.

“Wanna watch a movie? There’s not much to do around here,” he muttered.

“Sure,” I sighed in relief, sitting down in one of the beanbag chairs. Watching a movie sounded like paradise after what I’d endured today. I waited for Noah to hit play and flick off the lights to question him.

“What movie?”

“Final Destination.” He sat down in an arm chair by my beanbag and looked down at me. “That okay with you?”

“Perfect.” I’d seen Final Destination a fair amount of times already.

Kennedy was now lying on Noah’s bed, facing the television.

The movie was fairly entertaining and perfect since I’d wanted to just chill out and get my breath back all day. The chair I was sitting in was very comfortable. Kennedy and her brother were silent most of the time, except for when Kennedy offered me a root beer.

An hour into the movie, Noah glanced down at me again.

“Listen,” he said quietly; Kennedy was asleep by now, “couple guys are throwing a bonfire next week and they said we could bring someone. You want to come along?”

I pursed my lips, hesitating. I really didn’t like to be part of the social scene, but Jill wanted me to go out... maybe I could convince I wasn’t mental. I glanced back up at Noah, my heart thudding hard in my chest when his dark emerald eyes met mine again.

I managed a smile. “Sure.”

He grinned. “How ‘bout I show you around tomorrow morning?”

“The city?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” I said, thinking of Aunt Jill’s reaction to this.

“I’ll pick you up around... ten?”

I nodded, glancing at Kennedy, who was snoring softly.

“Of course we’ll have to bring Squirt along,” Noah muttered. “Once the word gets out she’ll want to tag along.”

I smiled and glanced back at the TV, but I couldn’t help but notice I was a little more wound up than I’d been before.