Blood Type: Book One of the Blood Type Series (complete)

Ghosts of the Past

Taughannock Falls boasted a tremendous drop of more than two hundred feet, measuring slightly taller than Niagara Falls. Unconvinced, I looked up from the bronze plaque asserting this fact and studied the waterfall with a critical eye. We'd had a monstrous thunderstorm just a few days ago, and water flowed steadily from the upper creek to the boulders and pool below. Though it lacked Niagara's volume, it was an impressive sight.

"I heard someone died down there," a girl standing a few feet away said to the guy she was with. "You're not supposed to cross the barrier," she added, pointing to the NO CROSSING sign. "There was a rockslide the size of a house. Some say her ghost walks the trails at night."

The guy wrapped his arms around her waist and stuck his tongue in her ear, making her shriek. "There's no such thing as ghosts," he said.

"Says you." She wiggled out of his arms and thrust her cell in his hand. "Take a picture of me?"

Leaning against the wooden guardrail, she struck a pose with one hand on her hip and her other arm thrown wide to capture the background. When they were done, they left in the direction of the trail. I watched as they disappeared around the bend.

John brushed against my shoulder. "What's so fascinating?"

"Huh? Oh. Nothing." Only then did I realize I'd been staring at the couple. I didn't tell John they reminded me of the ghosts of my past, of Zach and me. John nodded toward the trail, eyebrows raised in an invitation, and we began walking again.

"Do you believe what she said?" he asked, after a moment of silence.

I walked with my head down, making sure I didn't trip on any rocks or protruding tree roots. "About the rockslide? Yeah. I remember hearing about it."

"I meant about the ghost. And . . . other paranormal beings, for that matter. Do you believe in such things?"

I laughed. "You're joking, right?"

"I believe anything is possible."

I stopped, and so did he. "So you're telling me you believe in ghosts?"

John looked around, as though he might find the answer in the surrounding trees. "I believe there are things in this world to which most people remain happily oblivious. That, or they convince themselves otherwise as they try to assign logic to the illogical. "

I smiled and resumed walking. "I'll take that as a yes."

A light spray had been rolling off the waterfall. Combined with the high humidity of the afternoon, my clothes clung to my skin. Out of habit, I reached a hand to my head, worried that my painstakingly straightened hair had frizzed from all the moisture. I touched one of the springy curls, only then remembering I'd worn it natural.

John reached out to stretch a curl before letting it go. The tendril coiled tightly at my temple like a snake ready to strike. "I like it better this way," he said.

I made a face. "I don't. Olivia's got beautiful stick-straight hair. I've been jealous of it since the first time I met her. Seriously, girls with straight hair do not know how good they've got it."

Squinting one eye, John tilted his head as though to gain a different perspective, and I froze under the scrutiny of his gaze. "It suits you," he insisted. "You shouldn't change it."

I grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

**********

John drove me home a few hours later with a promise to see me soon. My parents' car was in the driveway, so he decided not to come inside on account that bringing home a new guy so soon after breaking up with Zach might raise a few brows. I didn't disagree and let him kiss my cheek goodbye.