The Grave Winner

The Grave Winner - Chapter 4

4

Even though the mouth of the Monroes' basement wasn't dark like it usually was, my heart still pounded as I looked down into its depths. When I'd seen Callum's car parked out front, my stomach had flipped itself inside out. He was never here after school.

I pressed my lips together as Jo flew down the stairs, her skirt swinging wildly. She wanted to continue her recycling crusade with me, and I said I would go because I felt better about Mom staying buried after yesterday's visit to the graveyard. But I planned to visit the next day just to talk. If Scary Boy happened to be there again, oh well. He could threaten me all he wanted.

Unable to stop my small-yet-anxious smile, I followed Jo at a much slower pace.

There was Callum, on the couch, his entire body twisted around to look at us rather than the TV. When our eyes locked, his mouth lifted into a brilliant grin. My heart grew wings.

"Why aren't you at baseball practice?" Jo asked.

"Because I'm ineligible today." He threw a glance at Jo and then looked back at me. "Mr. Mallory thinks I have an attitude problem."

Jo rolled her eyes and flung her backpack into her bedroom. "No. Really?"

"You play baseball?" I asked.

Callum nodded, his arms and chin resting on the back of the couch.

My heart flew around my chest for a jock? Weird.

Jo turned to me, and I quickly averted my eyes from her brother.

"Food?" she asked.

Trick question. If I said yes, she would leave us alone down here. If I said no, she wouldn't leave us alone down here. I nodded even though my stomach churned, and she shot up the stairs.

Callum was still looking at me, his brown eyes sparkling with the glow of his smile. "You can come sit down. Elf is willing to share his couch with you."

He watched while I crossed the space between us and circled around to the front of the couch. I couldn't hear the television anymore because blood rushed to my brain and roared between my ears. The gray and black striped cat snuggled in the corner of the couch next to Callum. I sat on the other side. Callum's electric buzz ignited my skin even though no part of us touched.

His grin softened into a flat line, but his eyes were still warm. "How was your day?" Old people asked that question, not high school students. Yet he genuinely seemed curious.

"Fine, I guess. Yours?"

He shrugged. "The people in this town will find something new to be obsessed with soon. Some of the news stations left today. They've already moved on to the next big story."

"Good," I said, scratching at a snag on the couch cushion.

"Do you think it was Lazarus Syndrome that brought Sarah back?"

Hell no. "I don't know."

"People say it's just like Lazarus from the Bible when he came back from the dead. A miracle." His eyes searched mine. "You don't believe it?"

The terrified face of Sarah in the graveyard leaped into my head. That wasn't the face of someone who'd been miracle-ized. More like she'd made a deal with the devil to come back, and the deal went bad.

I shuddered and pushed the thought away. "No."

"Then you're on my side."

"What's your side?"