Between The Lines

13.

We allowed Gabriel to finish his late breakfast. He'd switched on the television, and soon enough, a news report came on with Olivia's picture from the security footage. No one had identified her, so far. What must've helped was that the photo-from the footage-was only black and white, so her red hair looked like a really dark brown or black, and her face was a little blurry.

Once we got over that-and Gabriel finished eating-Eli and I started out together first since we were heading more in the direction of town than Gabriel, who decided to follow Frankie first-he'd already found him in the phonebook.

"So," I said once he was gone, "what's Gabriel's deal?"

"Uh, what do you mean?"

I shrugged. "You didn't know at all what he could do?"

"No. It wasn't something I expected to see on an application. He's a good kid, and he didn't mind working the... odd hours." Eli frowned a little. "He was the only one who didn't mind working late into the night or in the early hours of morning... when there were less people around...."

"So he wouldn't be overheard," I concluded, "assuming ghosts and spirits were hanging around."

"You go to school with him," he said suddenly. "Didn't you ever see him?"

"Not that I know of. We were in different circles." It was a pretty crowded high school, about 3,000. It wasn't clique-oriented, but everyone seemed to just pick their people and stay there without much change.

That was pretty much it for conversation. I had to go further north in order to get to Olivia's apartment building while Eli just had to keep going straight. He would need to find a route to avoid the hospital, which would probably take time. There was going to be a lot of traffic soon; Small Business Saturday was a big deal here.

I hadn't been to Olivia's apartment in a very long time. I wasn't sure when was the last time; I know we hadn't started high school yet. Her parents hadn't fought as much then-or they were conscious enough not to fight in front of guests. Her mother often brought out store-bought snacks while we hung out in her big bedroom, playing all the CDs we'd listened to before.

She never came over to my house. It was something she didn't bother to think about, or ask about. I realized she'd been very self-centered, and I'd just been a very good listener. Maybe she I thought I was an admirer, since I listened to a lot of what she said, but in truth, I mostly just corrected her in my mind. I was too nice to say what I really thought. That outfit sends the wrong message. Your mom said she didn't want you to wear so much eyeliner. No, I don't think Maria and Justin hooked up in the janitor's closet during Homecoming. So what if they were caught? No, I don't know what tequila and Mountain Dew: Code Red would taste like. And, no, I don't think it would taste good.

Old memories of her more innocent days came to mind as I entered the building. It was then that I realized I couldn't smell very well. I mean, the place wasn't supposed to stink or anything, but I remembered the Pinesol-covered carpet smell that attacked the senses. I wasn't sure if they'd stopped and I couldn't smell it as much anymore, or I was just imagining it, or I couldn't smell at all while I was translucent.

I walked on down the hall, past the golden mailboxes. The place was old, but it had been remodeled. The neighborhood I lived in was much older than this block, but it was a falling-apart old that no one cared to fix as the town progressed northward. The very first side of the town became forgotten and ignored. It became the poor districts.

The golden number 107 was still pretty shiny on her door. I almost knocked, and laughed at myself. I still wasn't going to just enter. I tried to listen through the door, but I couldn't hear anything. I decided that, if she were home, she would be asleep.