Page 8 of All Your Tomorrows

“Oh, definitely say a friend. I’m not so sure they’ll let you inside if you start with the medium stuff.”

“Would you have believed in the medium stuff if you hadn’t experienced it for yourself?”

He paused, his lips twisting in contemplation. “Probably not. It’s tough to be open to stuff you can’t see.”

“Problem is, I’ve always been able to see. Even if it wasn’t with my eyes, I could see in my head. I don’t know what it’s like not to see.”

He reached over and placed his hand on mine.

I pulled mine back as if electrocuted by his touch.

“Jesus! What’s wrong?” he asked.

I swerved my car over to the side of the road and threw it into park. “I felt that.”

“Felt what?”

“Your touch,” I said, my heartbeat thrashing in my chest.

“Is that weird?”

“Extremely. I’ve never felt a spirit before.” I cradled my hand with my other hand, as if it was somehow injured by his touch. “The same way you can just pass through things, my hand passes through spirits.”

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

“I have no freaking clue.” My mind reeled. This wasn’t normal. First, I didn’t know he was a spirit when I met him. Now, he can touch me. What the hell was going on? “Can I try something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

I lifted my hand slowly, moving it toward his shoulder. Once I placed it against the soft fabric of his black hoodie, I yanked my hand away. “Jesus Christ.”

“You’re scaring me, Nora.”

“Scaringyou? This has never happened before.”

“Well, maybe me being able to see my parents through you might actually work.”

I inhaled, needing to remember what I was there for. I was there to bridge the gap between Kyler and his family. I’d have to figure out what the hell was going on with me later. “Right.”

I shifted the car back into drive and drove in silence until we reached Kyler’s neighborhood. Each home was decked out for Christmas and I realized quickly that Kyler had grown up in a picturesque setting.

“It’s that one,” he said, pointing at the white colonial decorated with pretty wreaths and red bows on every window.

I parked in front of his house. “It’s beautiful.”

“My mom loves decorating. I’m surprised she only did the windows.”

“I think it looks lovely.”

“Yeah, but that’s unlike her not to do lights and lawn ornaments.”

“She’s probably not in the mood given what happened to you,” I said.

“Dammit!” He dropped his face into his palms and fell forward. “I’m such a selfish bastard,” he growled.

“Why?”

“I haven’t even considered what they’ve been going through.”