Radiance (Riley Bloom #1)(24)

And their first stop was YouTube.

My eyes grazed over them. They were so indignant, so sure that what they were saying was true, and I knew I had to find a way to break it to them.

I cleared my throat, taking a deep breath purely out of habit before I went on to say, “Um, I hate to break it to you, but you’re nothing like the Backstreet Boys. Not to mention, how do you even know about the Backstreet Boys anyway? You live in a castle in the middle of nowhere.”

They stared at me, a united front of white suits, white kneesocks, and outraged red cheeks.

“You’re not the first to look through people’s belongings, you know. We have access to computers, we’ve checked out an iPod or two,” said the smallest blond kid, as his buddies all snickered and laughed, taking a moment to shake their heads at me.

“Just because we live in a castle in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean we don’t know the same stuff you do,” strawberry head added.

I nodded. I didn’t see that coming, I’ll give them that. To think that any ghost would be in touch enough to know about boy bands of the last decade and yet still choose to dress like that was beyond me. But then again, look at Bodhi—an almost-pro skater dude who for whatever reason chose to dress like a dork. People were complicated—both the living and the dead, of that I was sure.

“Okay, fine. My bad. I’m sorry I misjudged your knowledge of pop music. Still, I’m sorry to say, but you’re nothing like the Backstreet Boys. Because the truth is, millions of people all around the world loved them, but—well—how many people love you?”

I watched as they exchanged bewildered gazes, their thoughts of confusion and despair like a vibrating rumble that flowed through the room.

Then strawberry head shook his head firmly, determined to take charge and regain control once again, saying, “Do not listen to her. None of it’s true! She’s messing with us. It’s part of her mission or whatever agenda she has.” He shot me a scathing look that was almost as bad as when the flames shot from his eyes. “The point is, maybe they don’t exactly love us—but they love to fear us. People come from all over the world just because of us! Without us, Warmington Castle would be ruined! Nobody would bother to visit. It couldn’t continue and would shut down for sure.” The blonds both nodded, two sets of bobbing heads flanking him on either side.

“Maybe—maybe not.” I frowned, knowing that could very well be true though it was pretty much irrelevant here. “But what’s it to you either way? I mean, are you getting a cut of the share? Is anyone actually thanking you for volunteering to work here? All that time you spend, all the long hours you put in—what’s the payoff? Seriously, did it ever occur to you that you’re totally being used? Taken advantage of in the very worst way? You guys give a whole new meaning to the term graveyard shift. And really, other than your questionable claim to fame, what’s in it for you?”

They looked at each other, thoughts murmuring back and forth in a swirl of static and sound.

“Look,” I said, smoothing my skirt as I stood from my seat and approached them. “Here’s the deal. I know you’re afraid of being nobodies, of being invisible—of no one even remembering that you ever did exist. And trust me, I know exactly how you feel because back when I was still alive, I was afraid of the same exact thing. And I wasted so much time—my whole entire life really—just following my older sister around, trying to be just like her. To me, she was important, hugely important. She was pretty and popular and, well, she was somebody special. And I was sure that if I could be just like her, mimic her in just the right way, then I could be somebody special too. But the truth is, trying to be like Ever didn’t make me important or special—it just made me an annoying tagalong. And maybe even a little bit of a brat.”

I looked at each of them, hoping my words were beginning to penetrate in some way. “What I’m trying to tell you is that you have a choice. You can either stay here and continue to scare the beejeemums out of people, or you can move on to someplace that’s—well—” I hesitated, not wanting to lie and say it was better, since I pretty much knew that wasn’t entirely true. But still, needing to say something, I said, “Someplace that’s new. And—different. And far more exciting than anything you have going on here.” I motioned around a room so upended it looked like a rugby match had just taken place, remembering the manifesting, the beaches, the everchanging, glorious Here & Now scenery, and knowing that much was true. “I really think you’ll like it there. You just need to give it a chance, that’s all.” Stopping just after the words were spoken, and wondering if maybe that last bit of advice applied to me too.

“But what if we don’t like it there? What if we get there and decide that we hate it and we’d rather be here?”

I looked at them, tempted to lie to get this thing over with. To tell them they wouldn’t miss the earth plane, not even the slightest, tiniest, most minute bit.

But I couldn’t.

Couldn’t dupe them like that.

So instead, I looked them each in the eye and said, “The thing is, you will miss it. I’m afraid there’s just no getting around it, it’s practically guaranteed. But, if you play it right, you could come back for a visit. I mean, look at me—I’m here, right? Not to mention all the others before me who came here to get you. So, what do you say? Are you ready for an adventure, to try something new for a change?”