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First I lost Grandie. Now Jimmy’s dead. They were good people who meant so much to everyone around them. It’s just unfair.
    I glance outside as spring rain beats down on the shingle roof. The bleakness outside matches the mood that settles over me. I’ve never heard a bad word against Jimmy. His broad appeal and friendly nature attracted all kinds. So did he slip? Go for a swim and hit his head accidentally?
    Or did Jimmy Hawkins, depressed by a career-ending injury, kill himself?
    â€œI wish I knew what the hell happened to me,” he says.
    I try to pat his shoulder. Instead of whooshing right through his “body,” my hand hits a kind of barrier. It isn’t so solid that I can’t penetrate it, but there’s a definite change in the air where Jimmy’s physical body would be if he had one. My fingers tingle and chill. Grandie believed all objects—even the inanimate ones—have a life force, an energy field. Maybe this is what I’ve struck.
    â€œMe, too, Jimmy,” I say in a soft voice. “Why are you still here, anyway? As in, in my room. Can’t you go anywhere else? Have you seen
the
Light?”
    â€œNo light.” His expression flickers. “You said I didn’t need a car, so I…I concentrated real hard on going home. You know, if I focused on my house, I’d magically end up there.”
    â€œDid it work?”
    He shakes his head. “Everything went dark. I felt like I was getting sucked down a waterslide.”
    I gulp. “Down?”
    â€œI had to claw my way back here. It was like playing ball on a muddy field, you know? Hard to make any gains. The ground was slippery. Cold.”
    The way he talks, it’s almost like he’s a sports commentator watching a game. Kind of detached. Only his clenched jaw shows me a hint of emotion. That bit of vulnerability drives a stake through my heart.
    â€œI want to do something normal today. Something to make me feel like I’m alive for a little bit longer.”
    To me, he
is
alive. I glance at the schoolbooks on my desk. They were in a neat stack before I fell asleep—Jimmy must have bumped them. What could be more normal than going to school?
    â€œI have a history midterm this morning. Does that sound like…fun?” Last night seemed to span an eternity. The facts and figures I’d crammed prior to Jimmy’s arrival are being held hostage by my neurotransmitters. I don’t remember a thing.
    He brightens a little.
    â€œAnd you know what? We’ll leave as soon as I get dressed, then drop by your house and see if Dan’s there.”
    â€œAppreciate it.” He brightens even more. Glows. “Can I watch you get dressed, too?”
    I throw a pillow at him.
    Through him.

Chapter Seven
    School is a weird place at the best of times. It’s even stranger when you’ve got a ghost in tow.
    For the first five minutes, Jimmy completely forgets that he’s dead. His team buddies Tony Hoffman and Josh Lyons walk through him. They don’t say boo. Possibly because they’re not as sensitive to his energy field as I’ve come to be. I cringe at the dismay scrawled all over Jimmy’s face. When a bunch of linebackers ignores his “Hey, guys,” my heart pings.
    I fumble with my locker combination. Jimmy’s backed up against the wall next to me, his body all tight like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. We’d gone to his house, only to find it empty.
    â€œWe shouldn’t have come here,” he says, eyes dark. “You didn’t tell me how depressing it was gonna be.”
    â€œOf course it’s depressing. It’s school.”
    â€œYou’re telling me,” replies someone other than Jimmy.
    I jump as the scratched blue locker door beside me slams shut. It belongs to a blonde senior who happens to be one half of the school’s golden couple.
    Jimmy’s