Free See Me by Susan Hatler Page B

after-school detention, which I missed today, and my mom is going to freak when she finds out.”
    He fiddled with the keys. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
    “Because . . .” I shook my head, wondering why I was explaining myself to Jonathan when I never explained actions to anyone. Then a little weight settled over my heart. “I feel bad for calling you a zhost.”
    The corner of his mouth rose slightly. “That’s all you had to say.”
    “Even though I didn’t mean anything bad by it.” I held my palms up, feeling like I needed to make that clear. “And I am going to help you.”
    Emotion flickered across his face. “You are?”
    “Yes.” I nodded, then a boulder settled in my throat, so I dropped my gaze to the floral entryway rug. “I mean, you obviously won’t give Owen’s body back to him until you’ve figured out where your own body is. So it only makes sense that I lend a hand.”
    “Thanks, Amy.” His voice was thick, his eyes filled with appreciation. “Let’s go then.” He reached past me for the doorknob, his arm brushing against mine sending chills across my skin.
    “Okay.” I hurried to the kitchen and grabbed my purse off the counter. Then I stepped into a pair of sneakers I’d left by the front door, slipped outside, and together we strode down the walkway. “Now would be a good time to fill me in on your plan.”
    Instead of answering me, he continued around the back of the white, beat-up pick-up truck parked at the curb, then opened the driver’s side door. “Owen’s truck?” he said.
    I refused to answer.
    He shoved the key in the lock and opened the driver’s side door. So much for my passive aggression.
    I slipped into the passenger seat as he started the engine. “Uh, hello? Clue me in on the plan.”
    “That’s not entirely laid out yet.” He pushed the gearshift into drive and pulled away from the curb.
    I clicked my seatbelt into place. “Isn’t that why you vacated my body earlier? To go and think of a plan? At least, that’s what you told me you were doing.”
    He braked as the stoplight turned red. “Maybe go back to the scene of the car accident?”
    “To what? Look at the skid marks?” Frustrated, I pressed my fingers to my temples and stared out the window as we passed tract home after tract home. “He has no plan. Apparently I’m going to have to come up with one,” I muttered out loud.
    “I’m certainly open to suggestions.”
    I squeezed my eyes shut. “Let’s see. Solution time. You are apparently you, but don’t have a body. No, wait. You still have a body, it’s just six feet under.” The proverbial lightbulb illuminated over my head and I held a finger up. “That’s exactly what we need to do.”
    His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “What?”
    “We’ll go to where your body’s buried, dig it up, and then you can go back in.” I tapped my finger against my cheek. “You weren’t cremated, were you?”
    He shuddered. “How should I know? It’s not like I attended my own funeral.”
    “That’s right. You were busy haunting me at school.” Pfft. It was hard to believe I’d ever been scared. I twisted in my seat to face him. “Well, have others in your family been cremated?”
    “I’m sixteen. It’s not like I’ve lost much of my family.” He made a right turn and seemed to be driving in circles. “Actually, my grandpa died when I was five. I think I remember them carrying a coffin out after the service. . . Yes, I’m certain of it.”
    “Great!” I clapped, then realized that wasn’t exactly appropriate. “Not that your grandpa passed away, but that we’re making progress on finding your body.”
    “Know what else I just remembered?” He brushed my forearm, sending goosebumps across my skin. “When I was like twelve, my parents made a will. They wanted to be buried, for sure. My mom didn’t like the idea of her body being burned. She wanted to be embalmed or whatever it is they do. That was