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bus. I couldn’t tear my gaze from
him even if I tried. The guy was majorly pissed, clutching his
binder in one fist so tight, I could see the white outline of his
knuckles. Jaw locked, shoulders squared, I could clearly read the
anger in his narrowed eyes.
    “Hey.” He jerked his head, his facial
features as hard as steel. “Did you hear?”
    “Yeah.” I nodded, unable to say any more.
Keeping my face forward, trying really hard to keep it together
before I turned into a waterfall of sobs and ruined all my mascara,
I walked toward the school building.
    I should have done something last night. I
shouldn’t have left her there. I knew she was dead.
    I knew.
    I was vaguely aware of Bryon following
beside me.
    All the other students had walked into the
main entrance of the building. Without speaking aloud our mutual
decision, we both walked to the secluded entrance to the side.
Strange how no one was lurking in the darkened hall. Gossip in my
small community traveled like a super-virus, so no doubt everyone
was in the main hall or the cafeteria talking about the high school
student who was murdered at the coffee house.
    A light breeze blew across my face. My hair
bobbled like a dandelion in a windstorm. I picked up my pace and
Bryon followed. I caught the scent of peanut butter in the air.
    And chocolate?
    Why did Bryon always smell like a sweet
shoppe?
    I looked over at Bryon. His mouth was drawn
in a tight line, his eyes expressionless. I could feel vibes of
tension radiating off his body.
    How strange that he didn’t even know Sunny,
except for the brief few moments she insulted us. Yet, this guy was
taking her death pretty hard. Seeing this sensitive side of Bryon
made me like him even more.
    Walking ahead, he stopped and faced me, his
body barricading the doorway. “Do you think it was her
boyfriend?”
    Forcing myself to look at him, I gasped at
the pained expression in his eyes. “It was him.”
    “How do you know?” His eyes narrowed,
darkened.
    Turning away from him, I tried to restrain
my tears, but a few slipped down my cheek anyway. Crap . “I just know.” I
shrugged, unable to say more before I cried even harder.
    “We should tell someone.” Emotion was
audible in his cracked voice. “We might’ve been the last people to
see her alive.”
    Turning to him, I threw up my hands. “Who do
we tell?” Inwardly groaning, I struggled with an even heavier
problem.
    Who do I tell?
    No one would believe me if I told them I’d
spoken to dead Sunny and knew the killer was her boyfriend.
    “I don’t know.” Bryon came up beside me and
placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go to the office. Maybe
they’ll know what to do.”
    Looking into his softened eyes, I just
wanted to melt. He must have sensed my turmoil. God, what would he
say if I told him about dead Sunny? About my ability to speak to
ghosts?
    “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked
before nervously chewing on my lower lip. I was scared.
    I felt it in my stomach, which was about to
drop to my knees, and in my brain, which was ready to explode from
the weight of it all.
    What if they asked me too many questions?
What if I slipped and told them about my incident with Sunny’s
spirit?
    “We’re witnesses, Krysta.” Dipping his head,
his wintery blue gaze was level with mine. “We can’t keep this to
ourselves.”
    Deep in my heart, I knew he was right, but
that gnawing fear in my brain told me my life was about to go from
complicated to really complicated.

Chapter Six
    After we’d
spoken to Principal Sparks in private, he called our parents and
the cops and we gave the police a statement in Sparks’ office.
Thankfully, Bryon did most of the talking. He remembered loads of
stuff about Sunny’s boyfriend, even details about each tattoo. All
I really had to do was nod and agree to everything Bryon said.
    I should have felt more at ease with Bryon
there answering questions for me, but the way one of the officers
kept looking at me