“I’ve been watching you hit on my sister all week.”

Oh shit.

“And I haven’t stopped you. You seemed like a nice guy. But now? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t give you two black eyes and promise to break your arms if you even speak to her again.”

Then he raised his fist of death and I experienced a level of desperation at which I would do or say anything in order to stop the inescapable pain rushing toward me.

“Kimberlee Schaffer’s a ghost!” I shouted, then covered my face with my hands. As if that would help. I’d probably just wind up with two black eyes and two broken hands.

But Khail’s arm stilled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“No, no!” Kimberlee shrieked. “He is the last person in the world you want to tell that to!”

But I babbled on anyway. “Kimberlee’s a ghost but I can see her and she won’t leave me alone unless I help her return all the stuff that she stole I have no choice in the matter and I’m not trying to hurt anyone I thought I was being the good guy.” The words rushed out in a single breath.

Khail glared at me for a long time. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“It’s true. There’s this big cave on her parents’ beach and it’s full of stuff I have to give back and every day Kimberlee gets locker combos for me.”

“Kimberlee. The dead Kimberlee?”

Kimberlee tossed her hair in offense but I nodded. “Kimberlee Schaffer. I shouldn’t even know about her; I just moved here. I’m not lying.”

“You’re out of your mind.”

“No, no, I’ll show you. Look.” I remembered the tactic Kimberlee had tried to use on me that first day. “Hold up a number behind your back.”

“What?”

“A number. On your fingers,” I said. “Hold it up behind your back. I’ll close my eyes and Kimberlee will tell me what it is and I’ll tell you.”

Khail rolled his eyes. “You think I’m an idiot?”

“Please? Just once.”

Khail glared. “Don’t you dare try to run.”

“I won’t.”

He sighed and I covered my eyes with both hands.

“Ready,” Khail said, sounding bored.

“Kimberlee?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “This is the lamest thing ever. I’m not helping you; I am not helping him!”

I pointed my finger at her—or at least I tried to; it was kind of hard to be sure with my eyes closed—and hissed, “You tell me right this minute or I am done. I swear I am done!”

She let out an annoyed sigh. “I hate you!”

“Hate me all you want. What’s the number?”

“You are a head case,” Khail muttered.

“Kimberlee, he hits me, I ditch you, and you walk the earth forever,” I growled through my teeth.

Kimberlee was silent for several excruciatingly long seconds, but finally she told me what I needed to know.

“You’re not holding up a number,” I said. “You just have a fist.”

Khail didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then he spun me around, not only holding me tight in a headlock, but with his forearm pressed tight against my eyes. “Do it again,” he said, his voice soft, controlled, and with a deadly edge that scared the shit out of me.

“Two,” I whispered, grateful beyond reason when Kimberlee spat the number right out.

A moment passed and nothing happened.

Nothing.

Then the enormous forearm retreated and sunlight pierced my eyes. After blinking a few times I looked over at Khail. He looked like he’d swallowed something too big for his throat.

“You honestly believe what you’re telling me, don’t you?”

I was too scared to talk. I felt like the whole rest of my life might balance on this moment. I just nodded.

Khail licked his lips. “Ask her what I gave her for her tenth birthday,” he said after a long pause.

“Um, dude, she’s not deaf.”

Killer eyes swung at me.

I raised my hands. “Sorry.”

Kimberlee rolled her eyes. “Trick question. He hasn’t come to one of my birthday parties since I was, like, eight.”

I conveyed the message.

Khail’s jaw clenched, his jaw muscles—even they were huge!—working furiously along the side of his face. “Ask her . . . ask her . . .” Then he was silent.

The bathroom was silent for a long time and I couldn’t tell if Khail was leaning more toward believing me, or swinging back to wanting to kill me.

“Jeff,” Kimberlee piped up softly. “Tell him he doesn’t have to ask.”

“What?” I said, turning my head away from Khail, but feeling him jump at the sudden noise anyway.

“Tell him he doesn’t have to ask.”

“Uh . . . she says you don’t have to ask.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Khail asked, but his voice was quiet now.

“Tell him I haven’t told anyone. Not even you.” It was the most sincere thing I’d ever heard Kimberlee say, and she was staring at Khail like it hurt her eyes to look at him.

I faced Khail again. “She said she hasn’t told anyone.” I shrugged. “Even me.” I hoped I sounded as clueless as I felt.

His eyes widened and suddenly it looked a little like he was having an asthma attack. His breathing went ragged and he looked around the bathroom like a man hunted.