Ghost Time Read Free Page A

Like, they just love to cover themselves and everyone else in it, right? Anyhow.
    I used to be so self-conscious, like if we were out in public, I always felt like people looked at me and looked at Cam, wondering what he was doing with me. But I’ve gotten over it pretty much, and now when people look, especially if it’s an older guy, I know it’s the car. Because Cam has this really cool old car—it’s so
boss
. He inherited his car from his dad—this gold color they don’t even make anymore. Seriously, they don’t make that color of paint anymore; it’s probably toxic or something. Anyhow, Cam’s dad died when he was a kid, and he’d bought the car for Cam because Cam was already working on cars by then. So his dad bought this old Dodge Dart for him to fix up, and he did, after his dad died. Took him two years to find all the parts, but he got it running, and now men check it out all the time. It’s a dude thing, you know?
    So, yeah, we were at the gas station, and this man walked over, and I got scared for a second, thinking he was going to scold us about not being in school, because he looked all uptight, but Cam didn’t get flustered at all. He was just standing at the pump, filling up, when the guy walked over and said, What is that, asixty-nine? And Cam said, Sixty-eight, and the guy whistles, nodding at the car. Then the guy goes—he was well-dressed, too, it’s not like he was a hick or anything—he goes, I don’t suppose you’d be interested in selling it, would you? Cam stopped pumping, and he put the pump back, and he goes, You don’t suppose right, and I’m in the car listening, but the guy goes, Well, if you should change your mind, and then he takes out his wallet and gives Cam his card.
    Cam took his card, and right then, his phone started ringing, so I handed it to him when he opened the door. I wasn’t really paying attention, but the man walked away, and I saw Cam start talking to someone on the phone, leaning his butt against the rear end of the car. Then he looked up and his head fell back, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. When he got back in, he had this look on his face, like he was somewhere else, and he checked the rearview mirror, watching the man pull away. What’s wrong? I said, turning, but the car was already on the highway. He’d been acting really weird all day, and he said, Nothing’s wrong, babe. I didn’t believe him, but he reached over and squeezed my thigh. Really, I just didn’t sleep much last night, he said, and then I started telling him, I told you so! but I stopped, because I’ve already told him he needed to sleep like a hundred times, and it’s no use.
    I’d been sitting there, with our notebook in my lap, looking through Cam’s last entry while he was gassing up the car. It was page after page of 1s and 0s, but done in all these different styles, like twenty different graffiti artists had tagged and retagged this endless wall. It’s so cool—I’d never have thought of that, I said,thinking out loud while he started the car. All information can be rendered in 1s and 0s, so I wrote you a note in code.
In code
, I said, like, yeah, right, and he cocked his head and raised his brow all Spock-like. Okay, then, tell me, what’s this say? I asked, showing him the last page, and he said, Forever. It’s
Forever
written in 1s and 0s, and I said, Ha!, cocking my head back at him, and he said, I’m serious—that’s exactly what all those pages say: Forever. Then he smiled, reaching over and squeezing my hand, like he’d never let go.

TUESDAY, APRIL 5, 2011
    (TWELVE HOURS LATER)
    5:54 AM
    I was having this really bizarre dream where I come to, and I see Cam’s car—like the first thing I see is Cam’s car, parked in front of this two-bedroom house in the middle of nowhere. And there aren’t any other houses around, just this little white house, and the grass is so overgrown, it’s waist high, except for the yard right around the