A Little Bit Haunted Read online

  But this was Walker Dean. He probably had a master list of every girl in our high school with their names and pictures on it, so he could cross them off once he’d scored with them. He’d seen a new girl move in next door and checked the list, and when he realized she wasn’t a prior conquest he came over to work his charm. That was probably it. For all I knew, he’d kidnapped Kiki just so I’d be grateful and think he was a nice guy for rescuing my cat. Then he could get through my defenses and…

  What would I have done if he had kissed me?

  But why would he? I was a sweaty, dirty mess. Why on earth would Walker want to kiss me? Even if I hadn’t been so gross, I wasn’t exactly his type. I wasn’t one of the hot, popular girls, and I didn’t go to parties or hang out with the jock groupies. I wasn’t experienced or exciting, and a little eyeliner wasn’t going to turn me into one of those girls, no matter how much it made the green in my eyes pop.

  So why would Walker waste his time on a nobody like me when he could have any girl in school? With that uplifting thought, my ego crawled off to go hide under a rock and whimper. This move just got better and better.

  My spirits rose a little when I was finally able to text my friends Dannika and Allison and tell them about my day. Somehow I sort of forgot to mention anything about Walker to them, though. The way I’d reacted to him had me more than a little worried, and I figured my best plan was to ignore him and do my best to pretend like he didn’t live in the house next door. Out of sight, out of mind. If it worked for dirty windows, why not Walker?

  Besides, he was a senior and in a year he’d be going off to do whatever it was he was going to do when he graduated—probably play football or baseball for one of the big state universities. After that, I’d never have any reason to think of him again. It wasn’t like we were friends or anything. Surely I could avoid him for a year. Couldn’t I?

  I was starving by the time Mom and Dad got home with the pizza, and we all ate in the living room because the dining room table was still sitting in pieces on the floor. The cable wasn’t hooked up yet, but then neither was the television so we were out of luck for entertainment either way. It just added another layer of suckiness to the day.

  While he was sort of stuck listening to me, I pestered Dad about the size of my closet.

  “I’ll see what I can do after we’re settled in,” he said. “If we can’t expand it, I’ll get you a wardrobe you can put in your room.”

  “Where? There’s barely enough space for my furniture as it is.”

  “Not now, Delaney,” Mom groaned as she pulled herself to her feet and took her plate to the sink. “Can you just give us a little time to get organized here before we have to worry about knocking holes in the walls?”

  “Okay, fine.”

  When she turned on the faucet, a sorrowful moaning noise rose from the pipes beneath the sink. I remembered the sound coming from my closet and shivered.

  “Can Dannika and Allison sleep over? Since there’s no television and this place is all kinds of creepy, I’d really like some company tonight.”

  Mom shook her head. “No.”

  “But Mom…”

  “Everything is a mess, nothing is unpacked, and there’s nowhere for them to sleep except on the floor.”

  “Please?”

  “They can come over tomorrow night. Things will look a lot better then.”

  I could tell she wasn’t going to budge, and the thought of having to stay in that room all by myself stole my appetite. With a sigh, I put away what was left of my pizza and trudged back upstairs. I was really beginning to regret all of the horror movies I’d watched over the last couple of years.

  When I let myself into my room Kiki was sprawled out on his back on my bed. His light snoring soothed away some of my anxiety, the sound a familiar, comforting reminder of home. It gave me the courage I needed to get hold of myself. I was going to deal with this. After all, I was about to be a junior in high school. I was too old to scare myself silly over some stupid, old house.

  Since I couldn’t unpack the rest of my clothes, to give myself something constructive to do I set about organizing the books on my shelves. By that time it was late evening, and even with the long summer days the light coming through the windows was dimming to a dull red-orange. Outside, the evening breeze from the Gulf picked up, moaning and whistling past the eaves of the house on its way inland. Its mournful wail gave me chills, but I shrugged it off. It was just the wind.

  The awful scratching and squealing like a giant running its fingernails down a chalkboard that followed was definitely not the wind. My heart leaped to my throat and I froze with a book in my outstretched hand. Slowly I turned my head towards the sound and realized it had come from outside. Outside was good. Outside wasn’t inside, which meant that whatever was making it wasn’t in the room with me.

  Cautiously I tiptoed over to the window and held my breath as I peeked out. The large oak tree outside my room had grown close enough over the years so that it rubbed against the side of the house whenever the wind blew just right. My shoulders sagged as I heaved a sigh of relief. Once we were settled in and Dad had some free time I’d get him to lop off some of the limbs and take care of that.

  I had started to turn back to my books when I heard voices coming from the yard next to ours. With a start I realized that was Walker’s yard. From where I was standing I could look down on their pool—nice—and perfectly manicured back yard. I could also see Walker stretched out on a deck chair by the pool, where he was having a conversation with someone hidden by the fence. I felt a sharp twinge of guilt for spying, but not enough to stop me from rising up on my tiptoes to try to see who else was there.

  She chose that moment to saunter out towards the pool, and even in the fading light I could tell she was gorgeous. The wind stirred her long, perfectly straight ash blonde hair, which she swept back from her face with an impatient hand. She was tall, only a couple of inches shorter than Walker, and wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans that made her look even taller, while her tight cropped top seemed tailored to show off her boobs. For a moment I wondered whether Walker might have a sister, but then she perched on the edge of the chair beside him and laid a possessive hand on his chest. Definitely not a sister.

  When she tilted her head back to laugh I recognized her, and for some reason it made me ache inside with an awful, hollow feeling that I’d never felt before. London Matthews was a cheerleader, one of the hottest girls in school and up at the very top of the popularity pecking order. Seeing her with Walker shouldn’t have surprised me in the least. A guy like Walker would always have his pick of the Londons of the world—that was just how things worked. The inevitability of it didn’t make me feel any better, though.

  I turned away from the window and went back to my books, but I couldn’t make myself focus. For some reason I kept getting distracted by thoughts of laughing blue eyes and the warm touch of Walker’s fingertips on my chin when he tilted my face up so that I’d look at him. The thought of him touching London now with those same fingertips made my stomach hurt.

  Why had he brought my cat back? Why had he touched me? Had he just been killing time until London came over? Since he knew who I was, maybe he also knew that I wasn’t exactly the most social girl in school. Had he come over to see if he could make poor, little Delaney blush and get all flustered by a crumb of attention from a boy? I slammed a book into its place on the shelf loudly enough to startle Kiki, who rolled over with a reproachful glare.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  I didn’t understand what had come over me. Nothing Walker did had anything to do with me. I didn’t even really know him—and I was pretty sure that I didn’t want to, no matter how many times he rescued my cat.

  Tomorrow I’d find the box that had my curtains and hang them up in that window so I wouldn’t even be tempted to look through it again. Out of sight, out of mind. If I said it often enough, I might even start believing it.

  Later that ni
ght I lay in bed with a book and tried to ignore the noises which surrounded me. The house whispered and muttered to itself in low groans and creaks like some deranged mental patient. Outside, the breeze continued its lonely wail as it slithered along the eaves. Every now and then it would build up to a good gust, and the scratching of the tree branches against the wall would jolt me out of my book with my teeth set on edge.

  I wasn’t even trying to sleep. My only goal was to make it through to morning. Every light in my room was blazing, and I was reading with the covers pulled up to my nose. Kiki lay nestled against my side, a warm but dubious comfort against the fears of this strange, disquieting new place.

  It would have been nice to have something a little more substantial for protection than my chubby cat. An image of Walker popped into my head, broad shouldered and oozing confidence. That fluttery feeling started in my stomach again, and I pulled the covers even closer around me. In some ways, Walker was a lot scarier than anything I’d seen or heard in this house.

  That didn’t stop me from dreaming about him when I finally did fall asleep.

  Chapter Four

  It was summer so I didn’t have to set an alarm, but the bright, golden sunlight blasting into my room did the job just as well. I cracked open one eye and squinted into the glare with a word Mom would still threaten to wash my mouth out with soap for, then rolled over, almost squishing poor Kiki in the process. I had to get my curtains up today.

  Just as I started to pull a pillow over my head to block the light out, loud music began to thump through the wall, followed by the thunderous drumming of water from the shower near my head. Great. Shelly was up, so there was no chance I was going back to sleep.

  Still only half-awake, I dragged myself out of bed then winced as I stood up and every muscle in my body shrieked in protest. Just when I’d thought I couldn’t possibly hate moving more. Biting my lip, I bent and rooted through the piles of clothes scattered on the floor until I found a pair of denim shorts and a clean t-shirt. I had to do something about organizing my clothes today, too. My stomach growled as I pulled the t-shirt over my head, reminding me that I’d given up early on dinner the night before.

  I caught my reflection in the mirror leaning against the wall—I needed to get Dad to mount that on my dresser—and made a face. I had raccoon eyes from not washing my eyeliner off the night before, and my hair looked like small animals might be nesting in it. Looking great today, Delaney.

  At least no one but my family was there to see me, and they weren’t supposed to judge me based on how I looked. Although thinking back, Mom sure seemed to do it a lot. What have you done to your hair? Are you really going to wear that out? Honestly, Delaney, you look like you were dressed by a blind person. Oh, well. They could just deal until after I’d had breakfast and got to soak in my own long, steamy shower.

  I went to the kitchen and rummaged around, but most of the stuff for the pantry was still packed away and digging for it was more trouble than I was willing to go to. My pizza box was still where I left it, though, so I grabbed that and a soda and went back to my room because there wasn’t any point in staying downstairs while the cable still wasn’t hooked up.

  While I chewed on cold pepperoni pizza I checked my phone, but there were no new texts. It was too early for Dannika to be up—we had a theory that she’d turn to dust if the sun hit her before noon on a vacation day—and Allison was at the gym. She’d taken up working out like religion since some jerk had made a rude comment about her in her bikini over Spring Break. The stupid thing is that Allison is totally gorgeous and the guy was full of it, but she’s been self-conscious about it ever since so she hits the gym almost every single day.

  I looked down at my pizza, guilt stirring lazily as I recalled how critically I’d examined myself when I’d tried on my bikini the week before. Maybe I should go to the gym with her a couple of days a week, especially since it was summer and we could hang out at the beach as much as we wanted to now. My inner laziness won out, though. I’d gotten enough of a workout hauling those stupid boxes around to last me for a while.

  As I drained the last of my soda, a noise from outside drew my eyes to the window. The urge to check and see if Walker was there tugged me to my feet even as good sense shrieked that it was a bad idea. I’d sworn I wasn’t going to do it anymore, but a second later I was peering guiltily down into Walker’s yard again. Apparently my willpower where Walker was concerned was right up there with my ability to say no to cake donuts.

  This morning he was shirtless, wearing a pair of running shorts and sneakers while he jumped rope. Somehow I wasn’t surprised to see him taking advantage of the coolness of the morning to get in a workout. He was a jock, after all. It was the rhythmic thwack of the rope against the cobbled patio by their pool that had caught my attention.

  As I watched in fascination he put away the rope and started doing curls with a set of barbells that I doubted I could lift off the ground with both hands. Even from this distance I could see his muscles rippling, and the early morning sunlight turned his tanned skin to a golden bronze. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. The boy was so beautiful that it made my heart hurt to look at him.

  Of course London was beautiful, too, which made them a matched pair. Reminding myself of that sent jagged shards of pain slashing through my heart, which was so stupid. Why was I obsessing over him this way?

  Why had he touched me? Why had he brought my cat home? Why had he smiled at me and teased me? Why couldn’t he have just left me alone?

  I stood there, hiding in the shadows, afraid he’d look up and see me watching. It was bad enough playing Peeping Tom this way, but if he caught me I’d just die. No doubt he’d tell all of his friends, and from there it would spread like wildfire. For the next two years I’d be known as Lurking Laney or Delaney the Peeper. I was going to have to get those curtains up ASAP. In the meantime I made myself step away from the window and solemnly swore once again to stop spying on Walker before it got me into trouble.

  About an hour later I was downstairs in the living room rummaging through boxes looking for my curtains. I’d looked everywhere for them in my room with no luck. What had I done with them? I blew my hair out of my face with an agitated huff. Maybe I should have been a little more descriptive with my labeling. Delaney’s Stuff wasn’t very helpful.

  My head snapped up as I heard the screen door slam at the house next door, and my gaze shot to the window. Walker had changed into a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt and was talking into his cell phone as he headed towards his truck. He paused for a moment with his hand on the door while he looked around, and I backed deeper into the room so I’d be out of sight if he glanced my way. After a moment he climbed inside and drove away, and I let out the breath I’d been holding without knowing it.

  “What are you doing?”

  I jumped about six feet and spun around to find Mom standing behind me with her fists planted on her hips.

  “Nothing. And don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  “Were you spying on that guy next door?”

  “I was not! I just didn’t want him to see me.”

  Mom rolled her eyes. “What’s wrong with you?”

  I gestured at my still unshowered body and the tangled mess of my hair. “Hello. I look disgusting.”

  “Okay. If you say so.” She paused for a couple of seconds and then shook her head. “Why don’t you just go over and talk to him like a normal, sane person?”

  All I could do was stare at her. My mom had lost her mind. “Um, no. I don’t think so. It doesn’t work like that.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she muttered and walked off towards the kitchen.

  Relief blew through me like a cool, soothing breeze. I’d been afraid she wouldn’t just let it drop. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to my mom about boys.

  For the next half hour I poked through the living room, digging through all the boxes that were mine until I finally found my curtains. I was just
trying to decide if I could sweet talk Dad into putting up the rods for them when Walker’s truck pulled back into his driveway.

  He got out with a couple of plastic sacks of groceries, and I watched in helpless fascination until he disappeared back inside his house. Even though there was no one to see, I flushed from a mix of guilt and shame. Was this what not having cable or Netflix had reduced me to—spying on my hot neighbor? My new summer entertainment was being a weirdo stalker?

  When Dad got my curtains up later that day I made another long string of solemn promises that I was going to stay away from the window and stop creeping on poor Walker, who really hadn’t done anything at all except be nice enough to return Kiki. The boy already had every girl in town hounding him. He didn’t need me stalking him, too.

  I was stretched out on my bed texting Dannika and Allison when a sound like a sick duck choking to death came from out in the hallway. I glanced up, and then turned my attention back to my phone. Honestly, I didn’t even want to know.

  Mom’s voice pulled me away again. “Delaney! You have a visitor.”

  That awful noise was our doorbell? With a groan I rolled off of my bed and set my phone on my nightstand. Why couldn’t Dad have just torched the place for the insurance money and moved us into a real house?

  I stopped with my hand on the door knob when it struck me that I had no idea who could be downstairs wanting to see me. Emily had moved to Colorado. I was texting Allison and Dannika, so it couldn’t be either of them. A slow shiver of anticipation climbed down my spine. What if it was Walker again? My hand flew to my hair while my stomach dropped past my knees.

  At least this time I’d showered. That had to count for something.