Page 63 of The Ghost of You

I throw my head back in laughter. “Was it that bad?”

She shivers as she remembers it. “Ugh, he was like seventy-five. I can’t even go into detail.”

“Wait, there are details? Does that mean you kissed him back?”

She shakes her head and gags. “God, no. But it was the grossest thing ever, like kissing a grandpa. I ran to a friend’s house and drank an entire bottle of tequila to get the taste out of my mouth.”

“Well, you better watch out for Mr. Buda down the street from us. I heard he likes his ladies young.”

She punches me in the arm. “Gross. He can sleep around as much as he wants as long as it isn’t with me. Besides, I saw him leave Mrs. Wilson’s house twice last week. I think he is good.”

“Or he is just making his way down the block.” I tap my chin as if I’m thinking. “And by my calculations you would be next.”

She holds her hands up in front of me. “Please stop I am having flashbacks to old man Harry right now.”

I laugh as I stand and help her up. “Want to see some pictures of Rosie? Mom keeps them up to help keep her memory alive.”

“I would love to,” she says as we both walk back inside.

I walk her down the hallway where my dad’s office is, where my mom keeps all the pictures of us hanging.

I point to my favorite photo of us. A summer barbecue when everyone was home. Rosie and Everett were just about to start high school and the two of them are sitting next to each other on a log with huge grins. Asher had the biggest babyface at ten years old and was poking Mason in the side. Mason’s hair is well past his shoulders and even though he is trying to look at the camera, he is shooting daggers at Asher. My mom and dad have their arms wrapped around each other in the center of the picture with Carson and me on the right and Hunter on the left. The three of us look so much like my dad before he started to gray.

“You all look so happy in this picture,” Anna says.

“It was a good day. It was the last day the whole family was together. My grandpa, Dottie’s husband, died from cancer a few months later.”

She turns to me and frowns. “I’m sorry, Noah.”

“Don’t be.”

We walk down the hall and look at a few more pictures. She makes fun of my middle school picture my mom won’t take off the wall. It was before braces and I have a gap-toothed smile and bushy dirty blond hair.

“This is a classic,” she howls. “How did you get the girls when you looked like this?”

I put my hand over her mouth to stop her from laughing and we both go still when we realize the position I have her in. My other arm is wrapped around her waist and I have her pulled flush to my body. Her hands found the back of my neck as I grabbed her. We both just stand there staring into each other’s eyes. Neither one of us sure what to do.

She makes the first move and leans in closer. The smell of patchouli captures me and I can’t help but lean in closer too. My hand that was on her mouth moves to the back of her head, entwining my fingers in her soft curls. Her hazel eyes search mine as if asking what we are doing and I don’t have the answer. I close mine just as I lean forward and brush my lips over hers.

It’s the softest kiss, if you can call it a kiss. I press my lips harder into hers and feel a jolt of electricity cross between us as she lets out a tiny whimper.

And that’s all I need to pull away. Her fingers go to her lips as I back into the wall. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t know why I kissed her. I haven’t kissed anyone in five years. Images of Claire break free in my mind and all I can picture is her standing in front of me.

“I can’t,” I whisper. Not sure if I am talking to myself, Anna, or the ghost of Claire’s memory.

It’s enough for Anna to walk away from me without a word or a glance backward.

I stare down the hall long after she walks away.

“She’s a good girl, that one,” I hear my mom say as she walks out of her bedroom. “She would be good for you.”

“Mom, I didn’t know you were here.”

“I needed to grab something from my room. I heard you two talking and didn’t want to interrupt.”

I grab the back of my neck. “We should go see what Dottie is up to. I heard her say something about shots. Want to make sure she doesn’t get too wild.”

I start to walk down the hall but my mother steps in front of me, blocking my path. “Don’t you change the subject on me, Noah Christopher.”

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