Free Shift by Jeri Smith-Ready

hands against his scalp. “Because I knew you’d tell me not to come.” He clasped his hands behind his head. “I’m sorry for dragging you into all this shit again. Let’s just forget it.”
    “No. This is too important, to you and all the ghosts who need help.” I knew that not just any ghost could change the world. The same charm and energy that would’ve made Logan a rock star in life could make him a hero after death. “Besides, maybe you need to do this to pass on.”
    “I need to do something bigger than myself.”
    “Whoa, he finally admits there is such a thing. Alert the media.”
    “No, don’t alert the media.” He grinned at me. “Wouldn’t want to ruin my diva reputation.” When I didn’t return his smile, he dropped his hands to his sides. “I really screwed up tonight, didn’t I?”
    “Yeah.”
    He stepped closer, his violet form reflecting in the pub’s front window. “Can you forgive me?”
    I gritted my teeth. “You know not to ask me that while I’m still mad.”
    “Sorry.” He brushed his ethereal hand over my arm. “Do you still love me?”
    “I’ll always love you, Logan.” I moved around him, heading for the front door. “But right now, I don’t really like you.”

Chapter Six
     
    I flopped into the low seat of Zachary’s Mini Cooper, collapsing under the weight of my layered clothing.
    “Warm enough?” he cracked as he examined my parka and heavy gloves.
    “They call it a killing frost for a reason.” I noticed his hands were bare, though the car’s heat was off. “It’s supposed to be spring, but this is colder than it was most of the winter.”
    “At least the sky will be clear.”
    Great, we’d been reduced to talking about the weather. I pulled up my hood, far enough so I couldn’t see him from the corner of my eye. As the drive passed in silence, I kept my hands folded in my lap to keep from switching on the radio. Even the Spanish-speaking GPS would’ve been a relief, but Zachary didn’t need directions to our monthly place of work.
    We didn’t speak again until we got to our sky-mapping site, a small grassy strip next to a field in northern Baltimore County. As we parked alongside the mile-long lane to the farmer’s house, I noticed that wheat was starting to shoot up from the field. I wondered if it could survive the freezing night—or if I could, for that matter.
    We laid out our blanket, then I opened our star map portfolio, my gloved fingers fumbling with the tie.
    Zachary slid a piece of paper in front of me. I held it up to the flashlight, which had a red-painted lens to protect our night vision.
    It was a website printout, listing the exact minutes of the last several solstices and equinoxes. Zachary had highlighted the two most recent in orange.
     
December 21: 10:14 p.m.
March 21: 12:05 a.m.
    “Was he with you then?” Zachary asked.
    I nodded, stunned into muteness. Zachary’s theory seemed true. Last Thursday night, Logan had come through my window as a shade, then turned to a ghost, then become human. All at the time of the equinox.
    If it happened once, it could happen again, on the summer solstice. Theoretically.
    “I’ll draw.” Zachary unfolded the portfolio in front of him. “You find the stars.”
    I located the first half-dozen constellations while he sketched out the celestial equator and the ecliptic, the course that the zodiac, thesun, and the planets traveled—sort of a superhighway in the sky.
    “Leo’s a new one this time.” I leaned across him to point to the eastern edge of the star map. “So the brightest star, Alpha Leo, is—”
    “Regulus,” he said. “The Lion’s Heart. It’s actually a triple star.”
    I checked the constellation book for Beta Leo, the second-brightest star in the constellation. “Next is—”
    “Denebola, in the tail. Got it.”
    I thumped the book down in front of me. “Well, you seem to know it all, as usual, so I’ll just wait in the car, where it’s half a degree above