Chapter Seven

I jumped on my bicycle and rode over to Dylan's house which was about five blocks away. I found him in his bedroom waiting for me. He'd already constructed five different paper airplanes for our experiment on drag.

"I see you didn't waste any time." I picked up one of the planes that had square bent back wings.

"Thought it was just easier for me to make them before you got here."

"You'll say that I made at least one of them right, in the report?"

He shrugged. "Whatever. Don't worry about it."

"I need this grade to get a seventy in science, Dylan. Don't punk me on it."

He scrunched up his face and nudged me in the arm. "Jesus, Daisy, relax. We'll get a good grade."

"Okay." I dropped my bag on his bed. "Oh shit, before I forget." I rummaged in my bag and pulled out an Xbox game. I held it up for him to see.

"That is not Street Fighter Anniversary Collection."

"Yeah it is."

He took it from my hand as if handling something revenant and fragile. "Where did you get it?"

"From a guy who knew a guy."

"What guy? Why don't I know this guy?"

"You don't always know all the guys I know."

He smiled. "This is sweet. Thanks Daisy."

"No worries."

We threw the planes, measured the distances and calculated the drag on each one. When we finished, Dylan typed up the report, and then we chilled in his room with some day old pizza and soda while playing Plants vs. Zombies on his Xbox 360.

While my pea shooters and chili beans were trouncing on his zombie horde, my cell phone chimed from my bag. I reached for it, thinking it might be my mom calling. But it was a number I didn't recognize. Well, I sort of recognized it from this morning. It was Paige who was calling. I tapped ignore and tossed it to the side.

"Who's that?" Dylan asked.

"Nobody. Probably just a telemarketer."

I went back to the game, but I couldn't get the fact that Paige had just called me. She had a lot of nerve.

My cell phone rang again. I glanced at the number. It was Paige again. What the hell?

This time Dylan snagged my phone before I could press ignore.

"Don't be a dick."

"Who keeps calling you?" He answered it. "Daisy's phone." His eyes widened, and he turned and looked at me. "Dylan." He smirked, then said into the phone, "No, I'm not her boyfriend, although it's really not any of your business."

I rolled my eyes, and rested my head against his bed. This was not happening.

Dylan handed me the phone. "It's Paige. She really needs to talk to you." He shook his head.

"Hello?"

"You're ignoring my texts."

"What do you want?"

"I think we should talk. Clear the air between us."

"Why?"

"Because Haven would want us to."

I sighed. "No, I don't really think she would."

"Why are you being so mean?"

"I'm not being mean."

I could hear her sniffling.

"Are you crying?"

My chest tightened. I didn't need to hear this chick sobbing right now. Not when my own heart had been shattered.

"Yeah, cuz quite frankly you're being a bitch."

"I got to go, Paige. I'm sorry." I pressed end on the call, and clutched my phone tight in my hand.

I hated that I felt like crying again. I hated that Paige made me feel guilty for not wanting to hang out with her. Especially when I knew her whole outreach program was motivated by her own guilt. Someone at school probably heard about the video of Haven on my phone and now she was just trying to save face.

"What was that all about?" Dylan asked. He was looking at me funnily.

"I don't know." I got up from the floor and paced his room. "She wants to meet up and talk about Haven or something."

"That's weird."

"I know."

I didn't want to talk about it anymore. It was making me queasy. "I'm going." I grabbed my bag from the floor. "Our experiment is done, right?"

Dylan nodded. "Yup. Just need to hand it in on Monday."

"Okay. Good." I slung my bag over my shoulder. "I'll see you later."

"Later."

Before I could leave though, Dylan said, "Hey Daisy."

"Yeah?"

"You can talk to me, you know, about Haven and other stuff, if you want. If it would make you feel better."

"Thanks but I don't think anything will make me feel better." I walked out of his room.

Back home, I got off my bike and leaned it up against the house, just as the Mayberry's SUV pulled into their parking lot. I was about to dive into my house but Mrs. Mayberry was already walking my way. I saw her, and she knew I saw her. I couldn't duck out now without being extremely rude.

"Hello Daisy," she said stiffly.

I nodded to her. "Hello ma'am."

"Please tell your mother to stop bringing casseroles over. We have quite enough food, thank you."
"I already told her, after I found the one she'd given you on our doorstep."
Thankfully she had the decency to look slightly abashed.

She nodded to me, then turned and walked back to her house, and I went into my house.

It wasn't until I was safely in my bedroom that I let it all out. I collapsed on the bed, grabbed the pillow and screamed into it. So hard that my jaw and throat throbbed from the intensity.

"What are you doing?"

I bolted off the bed and spun around. Haven sat in the window, twirling one of her long blond locks around her index finger. She often did that when she was bored. She was wearing the same clothes she died in: short plaid skirt, white tank top with a little cardi, knee socks and Mary Jane shoes. I had called it her school girl meets hoes are us combo.

"Um. No. Nope. No way." I walked out of my room and into the bathroom.

I turned on the taps. Icy cold water ran out and I cupped some and splashed it on my face. Obviously, I was going into shock. There really couldn't be any other explanation for me seeing my dead friend in my room. It wasn't the same thing as seeing a memory of her in her window. I was tired and sad and my brain was in malfunction mode.

After I splashed more water then slapped my right cheek then left for good measure, I tip toed down the hall back to my room. I took in a deep breath, held it, and stepped through the threshold.

Haven waved at me. "Still here."

I dived behind my bed, then pulled the blanket down to cover me. Can you hide from hallucinations? "Um, you're supposed to be dead."

"I am."

"Then what are you doing here?"

I peered around the side to look at her. I imagined I looked like ET wrapped in his blanket in the bicycle basket. Phone home. Phone home. Instead of phoning home though, I wanted to call sanity to see if it would pick up any time soon.

She shrugged. "Not sure yet." She smiled with that look of hers. The one that made the little hairs on my arms stir and my belly clench.

"This is really weird."

"Don't you want me here?"

"Of course I do. I'm lost without you."

"Well then...grow some ovaries and come give me a hug."

I just stared at her, not really sure what to do or say. How was this possible? Not that I was complaining. Haven was here, in my room, talking to me. I could see her, smell her, and I hoped beyond hope that I could still touch her.

She must've read my mind, because she held out her hand toward me. I got to my feet, wobbled a little because my knees wanted to buckle, then walked to her slowly, afraid she was going to vanish all over again. When she didn't, I reached out and took her hand and grinned.

I squeezed her hand, reveling in the feel of her skin against mine. Jesus. How could this be?

"Just go with it babe," she said.

I nodded, and decided, hell yeah I'll go with it. It didn't matter if I was crazy or not because Haven was here. That was all that mattered to me. Sanity was so overrated anyway. Psychic breaks were so the new black.

I let go of her hand and went to sit on my bed. I grabbed my pillow and tucked it into my stomach. It was just like old times in my room. She would sit on the window ledge and swing her leg up and down and I would sit on the bed and watch her, and we would talk about anything and everything.

"So, tell me the news."

"Well, your mom still hates me. That hasn't changed."

"I know. She probably blames you or something."

"Paige wants to chat," I said.

"Maybe you should talk to her."

"Why? When I already know what she's going to say."

"Maybe it will help."

I frowned. "With what?"

Haven came over to the bed and sat beside me. She tucked a hair that was hanging in my face behind my ear. "Help you to grieve me."

"I am grieving."

"Well, then help you to get over me."

"I don't want to get over you. Ever." I grabbed her hand. "Promise that you won't push me to get over you. I can handle it from others but not from you. Never from you."

She looked at me for a long moment, then nodded. "I promise."

"Good." I yawned and rubbed at my face. "Jesus, I'm tired. Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Sure babe. Just close your eyes."

I lay down on my side, still hugging the pillow. Haven stroked my face, then bent down and kissed my cheek. Yawning, I closed my eyes. But when I peeked open one just to make sure Haven was still there, she'd vanished. All that was left was the smell of jasmine and oranges in the air.

I rolled onto my back and rubbed my thumb over the small scar on my chin thinking about the first time I met Haven. We were both thirteen, both going to start high school. I'd been struggling with my sexual identity already by then, but the moment I met Haven, all my doubts vanished.