Page 17 of She Haunts Me Still
Before she can talk herself out of it, Mallory slides her narrow hand into his broad one, and neurons fire in her brain at the stark awareness of how much of her he’s able to grip at once.
Mallory follows Ezra into the courtyard to an iron bench beneath a sprawling oak tree. She tugs her sleeves over her hands, fingers chilled from the cold.
“When I was seven,” Ezra starts, “I stole a pack of cigarettes from my babysitter.”
A nervous laugh breaks loose. “That’syour deep dark secret?”
“Not even close.” Ezra darts his knee into hers. “C’mon, theater major, don’t you recognize a warm-up?”
“Right.” She rolls her eyes but grins anyway.
“As I was saying, I hid them for weeks until she forgot they were missing.” The smirk returns to his face. “Then I sold ’em to older kids on my block. For five bucks a cigarette.”
“Wow,” Mallory says, stifling another laugh.
“My dad found out, and he wasn’t even mad. He was like, ‘That’s how you turn a profit, son!’ ” Ezra drags a hand over one eye. “Joke was on me, though, ’cause that’s when he decided I was destined to join his real estate business, and it didn’t matter a damn what I actually wanted.”
The laughter dies on Mallory’s lips at Ezra’s abrupt change in tone.
“Your turn,” he says before she can ask any questions.
She fixes her eyes on the yawning hedges, the stretch of brick reaching toward the sky.
“Arden and I snuck vodka into prom last year,” Mallory admits. “We poured it in water bottles and drank in front of the chaperones. I think that was the most thrilling part—breaking a rule in plain sight.” She dares a glance back at him. “The joke was on me, too. I spent the rest of the night puking in the bathroom.”
His eyes flick over her, as if the confession has changed the shape of her somehow. She suddenly feels warm despite the bitter autumn air.
“Okay, me again.” Ezra leans against the bench, hooking an elbow along the rail. “I never wanted to leave Grey. I was in a fraternity—on track to be president, actually. But there was an…accident last spring at a party.” He swallows, and Mallory wonders if certain words are hard for him to dislodge, too. “A friend of mine was badly injured. There was a school board hearing. The vote was unanimous. You’d think getting expelled would be the worst thing that could have happened, but it didn’t hurt quite as much as losing my friends.” He bows his head. “They all stopped talking to me after.”
A hollow void pulls at Mallory’s chest. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”
“Anyway, my father knows the dean at Shore, so now I’m here.” Ezra turns, his expression growing serious. “Warm-up’s over. Tell me what’s going on.”
Mallory hesitates. She doesn’t know how she’s managed to talk with him this easily. It’s like she’s become someoneelse, a girl whose throat isn’t sewn shut with secrets. But she’s not sure she knows how to talk aboutthis.
“You’re worried I won’t believe you, right?” Ezra says, and she raises her gaze.
“Youwon’t.”
“What if I do?” He leans closer, his elbow brushing hers. He doesn’t move it away. “Jules, just try me.”
Jules. The first time he called her that it was confusing. Now, it sounds like an inside joke meant only for her. Mallory scrambles to remind herself that all Ezra wants is a good grade. That he doesn’t actually care what happens to her.
But the way he’s intently looking at her could almost convince her he does.
Mallory swallows. Her mouth feels like sandpaper. “You can’t…you can’t tell anyone.”
“I’ll keep your secrets,” Ezra promises, “if you keep mine.”
She searches for the words she’s never said out loud, vaguely imagining them congealed or rusted over, needing to be pried loose.
“Okay. I’m going to start with the end, because that’s what matters most.” Mallory swallows again. “My mom died when I was five. And I…” She grinds her teeth, gathers whatever is left of her courage. “I think I know what killed her. I just don’t knowwhy.”
Ezra tips his head to the side.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” she asks quietly.
He leans a little closer. “Is that a prerequisite for the rest of this conversation?”
