Free The Space Between Heartbeats by Melissa Pearl

time.”
    I look out the window. “So what now?”
    “Okay, well, I think we should talk about the elephant in the room here,” Dale says hesitantly.
    “You calling me fat, Finnigan?”
    “What?” His eyes grow round.
    I fight a grin, my eyebrow arching. “I’m a ghost, not an elephant.”
    Dale rolls his eyes. “I meant Trent. The most likely scenario is that you left the party with your boyfriend. And in situations like these, where women get hurt . . .” He trails off, but I don’t need him to finish the sentence. I know where he’s going. And a faint prick at the back of my mind makes me wonder if Dale is right, especially after what I saw in the stairwell this morning.
    The idea of telling Dale about Trent and Laruen makes me feel vulnerable. Like admitting that my boyfriend’s a cheater encapsulates every bad decision I’ve ever made, a glaring sign that says, “Former idiot girl, current ghost, deserving of bad karma.”
    I sigh, and tell him what I saw, my voice quivering over the words as I try to ignore how much the humiliating truth burns me. But instead of turning to me with judgment in his eyes, Dales just tightens his lips and mutters, “Jerk.” Sympathy is etched into his features. “I’m sorry, Nicky. Everyone always seems to think being invisible would be an awesome superpower, but I guess this is the downside of seeing and hearing things you’re not meant to.”
    “I’m glad I know,” I say fiercely, surprised at the truth behind the words. “And the second I wake up from this nightmare, I’m dumping him.”
    “No argument on that.” He puts his foot on the gas and we head back out of the forest.
    “Where are you going now?”
    “It’s Wednesday,” Dale says. “Trent and I have PE together last period.”
    * * *
    Dale opens the door to the guys’ locker room, giving me a strained smile as I brush past him. We head down a row of gray, metal lockers. The layout is identical to the girls’ changing rooms, except messier.
    Dale stops by his locker, letting his bag slide off his shoulder and thud to the floor.
    “Can you walk through doors?” he whispers to me as he spins the dial on his lock.
    I blanch at the question. “I haven’t tried to do it intentionally yet, but I think so. I fell through the door of my mom’s car. It’s a really off-putting sensation, though.”
    Dale flicks his locker open. “I just think you should take—” His voice cuts off as a few guys round the corner, dump their bags, and start opening their own lockers.
    The guy next to me unzips his jeans and takes them off. I turn away with a grimace and find myself staring at a half-naked Dale.
    I bite my lower lip, my eyes drinking in the powerful muscles of his shoulders and the way they shift and curve as he pulls out his PE shirt. My eyes track across his back and over to the solid curve of his biceps. You’d never guess that there was this much muscle under his baggy, shapeless clothes.
    He spins around and I notice a scar running across his right shoulder, this one is thinner and more precise than the one on his cheek. I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I can’t stop myself. I reach out and run my finger along the puckered skin, then down his bicep, wishing with every fiber of my being that I could actually feel the taut muscle.
    Dale jerks, jumping away from me with a soft gasp.
    The guy behind him frowns. “You okay, man?”
    “Cramp,” Dale mumbles, rubbing his shoulder and shooting a dark glare my way.
    I step back from his silent reprimand and cross my arms, glad he can’t see how much his torso has me flustered.
    “I’m sorry.” I shrug. “You’re really cut and I always thought you were this weedy, skinny—”
    He gives me a terse scowl. “You don’t have to keep talking.”
    “What?” A different guy turns to see what Dale said.
    “Nothing.” Dale shoots him a closed mouth grin.
    “I was just trying to give you a compliment, but whatever.” I lift my chin