"I'm surprisingly very excited about this party. You know considering I died at the last one, I think I'm doing alright," Kingsley explained while sitting on the bed behind me. He used his hands in big gestures while his voice rung out loudly with amusement.
"You're not funny, you know that, right?" I frowned. I was sitting in front of my full-length mirror while applying my makeup gently. I'd thrown on a simple, red, spaghetti dress and called it a day. I wasn't in the mood to go all out tonight.
I could see Kingsley watching me through the mirror as I painted my face and his eyebrows furrowed in interest to follow what I was doing.
"Why do you insist on coming with me?" I muttered while applying the mascara slowly to my frustratingly short eyelashes. "You know none of your friends will be able to see you and I'm certainly not going to talk to you all night. You'll just be on your own which sounds boring. Can you even get drunk? Lame."
He chuckled. "I'm too attracted to you to leave you alone."
I stopped the mascara wand in place and looked at him through the mirror with a lifted brow. "Excuse me?"
He tipped his head back in laughter. "Not in that way, Quincy."
I spun around to face him. The sound he made felt almost like a rumble and it reverberated through my body though he was nowhere near me. When he finally sobered, his lips held a lingering smile.
"I'm attracted to you the way a moth is to light. There's this pull that I can't explain, it's like nothing I've ever felt before. When you left the house earlier, I just had the sudden urge to follow. I think we're connected in some way because I can feel everything you do if the emotion is overwhelming enough. I want to stay in your light forever, Quincy. I don't want to die."
I kept my eyes on him for a moment longer and wondered how this happened. If I were anybody else or Kingsley wasn't the one dead, would a ghost still be following somebody around? Or, was it something we had done specifically?
I screwed the mascara lid back on and threw it in the makeup bag along with the rest of my stuff. Then I pushed myself up onto my feet with a drawled out a sigh. It was time to go. I threw on my jacket and skipped down the stairs.
"I'm going," I called out to Dad and didn't wait for a response before I was out the door.
I'd told my dad about the party earlier, he was hesitant to let me go at first. But, like always, he agreed. It was easy to get my own way with him, he was soft like that.
I pulled my jacket closer to my body and breathed out to see the condensation in the air like smoke. As always, the weather was crappy and the chill bit at my bare legs. It was cold and cloudy while the old moon smiled down and I couldn't get away fast enough. I walked along the pavement to my best friend's house, she only lived down the street.
Kingsley was at my side less than a moment later. He walked on the curb as though it was a tightrope. His arms widened to keep his balance and the boy could have been floating with that gentle elegance that radiated from his body in waves. Kingsley's face was illuminated by the yellow glow of the streetlamps that lined the pavement and brought a scary dimension to his features. His eyes seemed deeper, jawline sharper, under-eye bags darker.
"If you insist on joining me to the party," I began and he turned his attention to me. "You should help me find your killer. You know, point me to the potential murderers so that I can question them and stuff."
He scrunched his nose and walked backwards to eye me up at the same time. "Why would I do that?"
I sighed in frustration and crossed my arms over my chest. "I know this must be difficult for you. Obviously, you don't want to be dead. I get it, that sucks. But you can't just follow me around forever, so you better suck it up and help me out. Alright?"
He huffed and continued walking, ignoring me. The harsh tone of my voice had cut through the calm of the night and I regretted it. I knew what type of people these Easton boys were. They had to be nurtured and babied if they were to do anything and I'd ignored the first rule. Kingsley had every right to not help me figure this out. He wouldn't be missing out on anything.
We finally reached Arlo's house and I opened the front gate. We barely ever hung out at her house and so the cobbled path to her doorstep was all that I had familiarised myself with. My house or the fields nearby had always been our go-to.
I knocked on the door and it didn't take long for Arlo Han to rush out in a whirl of vanilla perfume and jangling jewellery. Her long hair fell behind her shoulders in elegant, black curls and her makeup expertly done. Arlo was a lot better at makeup than anyone I knew. At prom times, she always did the girls' makeup from school and never charged nearly as much as it was worth.
Arlo pressed the cool metal of the car keys into my hands and pulled my arm towards her brother's car on the pavement. I didn't know much about cars but this one was small enough to hopefully fit between all the others that would pile up by the party house. Not that I knew where we were going.
"Arlo, where is this party again?" I wondered when we sat in the leather of her brother's car, torn with wear.
She laughed. "Sorry, I forgot to say. It's in the city, by the sea. You remember that surfing party we went to in summer, yeah? It's there. The houses right along the beach, proper nice too."
I started the car and it roared to life, igniting the radio as it played pop hits through the speakers. I flicked on the heaters and a comforting warmth radiated through the car before I switched on the lights and slowly swung from the pavement, ready for the long and dark drive ahead.
The rear-view mirror caught my attention as it showed Kingsley sat silently in the back, an expression too complex to decipher adorned his face. I half thought about telling Arlo about him then. As he sat in the back like a child, I wanted to tell her everything.
I didn't, though. I couldn't.
"Is this an Easton boy party?" I asked over the music.
"Uhh, yeah," she answered absentmindedly while trying to roll up her window to stop the bitter chill of night. I figured if this was an Easton party we'd be more likely to find a suspect worth our time.
"Why? You got your eye on one of them?" Arlo teased while the wind breezed through her dark hair.
I threw her a half-smile. She knew better than anyone how I felt about relationships. I just didn't need them. I loved the thrill of a kiss but dreaded the burden of love. That's just the way it was for me.
"Well Willow O'Conner from biology's boyfriend does weed and I'm going to join them tonight," Arlo grinned.
I scrunched up my face before laughing. "Are you serious?"
"What?" She asked with a propped brow. "You don't think I'm cool enough to do it?!"
"Not at all," I denied. "I'm just surprised that you're stupid enough to believe your mum won't smell it on you as soon as you get home."
"Lucky I'm sleeping over yours tonight then, right?" She smirked.
I shook my head with a small smile. Arlo and I had been friends forever. She lived down the road from me so it only made sense after all. She was the only friend I had ever made without my mum and we'd kept that friendship all the way through school and even attending sixth form together. She had helped me through things when my mum left and I always let her stay at my house when her family got too much.
We balanced one another out. Her personality was bright and easy to get along with while mine...well, wasn't.
"Hey, Quincy?" She called quietly. The shadow of a smile lingered at her lips but her eyes were serious. "How are you? Really."
I sighed and kept my eyes on the road as we left our little valley town. The trees cocooned the streets and as the city neared, more cars appeared on the roads beside us.
"I'm fine, babe," I smiled. "I didn't even know him so I'm not sad ov-"
"You still found a dead body," she frowned. "I know you didn't know him but you still saw it. That stuff proper screws with your aura and I can see yours is dim."
The rumble of stray stones under the tyres wobbled the car and I stepped my foot down to pick up speed. Lights flashed, people blurred into the distance and cars passed quickly.
"I promise I'm fine right now and I'm really glad that we're going to this party. If I do decide that I'm not alright anymore then you, Arlo, will be the first person I see. I promise," I admitted as we turned down the rows of houses. We were close to the party and between each mansion, I caught a glimpse of the rushing waves of the ocean behind.
Arlo seemed satisfied with my answer and she turned her attention to the window and ogled at the huge houses we passed. It didn't matter that we attended an Easton party every other week, this sort of money still left us speechless.
I glanced to the rear-view mirror once again but this time was caught by Kingsley's honey eyes. They captured my gaze and held it with a stern look as he pursed his lips. It felt like a warning and an invitation all in one.
"There it is," Arlo pointed to one of the houses and I fluttered my attention back to the car. Right in time, I stopped the car from hitting a few drunk boys as they stumbled across the road and onto the sand opposite. We were right next to the empty beach that smelt of summer nights and sex. I breathed through my nose roughly and decided to swing the car into a space by the house.
Before I could, I recognised one of the boys in the gaggle and he turned to us. With a wide grin, he ran to the driver's side and tore the door open. Charles Hawthorne, my best friend. Or rather he used to be.
It was his party that Kingsley died at, I was surprised to see him out again. The last time I saw him was the night I'd found Kingsley. The time before that was at my fourteenth birthday party that I'd invited him to.
The only reason I knew an Easton boy like him was because of Mum. Amélie and Charlie's mum were best friends before she disappeared. It left Charlie and me to grow up side by side, he was always the strong one and all I did was follow. He practically collapsed into me for a hug, the smell of Strongbow clung to his chestnut brown hair.
"I didn't think you'd ever come to a party again, Bambi," he sighed into my neck.
While my father had fallen in love with the crazy, care-free and passionately drunk woman, Arthur Sinclair hit tough luck when she was so different from what once seemed. Mum was a snob who revelled in lives like the Hawthorne's. Sometimes I wondered if that was the reason she left. Perhaps Dad and I never did or would fit into her perfect fantasy and she realised that far too late. Maybe the only option she had left was to flee.
Charlie and I lost contact when my mum left. We weren't in the same school and we lived nowhere near one another, there was no point. But that night when I'd found Kingsley, I remembered what it felt to have him in my life again. He'd allowed me to sob into his shirt as he clung to my frail body, whispering soothing words into my ear. He held a hand to the back of my head, keeping me close to quietly break down above the sound of the ambulance screeching. I'd never forget the rise and fall of his chest as he took harsh breaths to control the situation. It felt as though either one of us could've broken.
But now, as a drunk giggle escaped from his lips I knew he wasn't the same Charlie who protected me so closely just two days ago.
"Okay, get off now," I muttered after a few moments where he just lay across my body, probably sleeping. The rest of his group still lingered at the front of the car, watching our interaction curiously.
He pushed against my shoulders to get up and I refrained from jabbing my elbow into his stomach.
"Promise you'll come to see me later to have a drink, yeah?" He slurred with a big smile and pleading eyes.
He pulled and poked at my cheeks when I didn't answer. "Come on," he drawled out like a child.
I rolled my eyes with a groan. "Fine, whatever. Just go away now."
He squeezed me into a hug once more before running off to his friends who pushed him teasingly and messed up his hair.
Before anyone else could have gotten in the way, I slammed the door shut and pulled the car into a parking spot. The door to the house was wide open as people flooded in and out. A few of them ran to the rough beach opposite while others chugged beer in the front garden. Arlo didn't hesitate to slip away quickly mumbling about Willow O'Connell and her junkie boyfriend.
I looked at my bronzed wrist where the words 'Quincy Sinclair' stood out against the blue veins. The black ink stuck to my skin like an anchor that guided me to reality and further pushed that I certainly was not in a dream.
I glanced to Kingsley in the back, I was as ready as I'd ever be.