Sylvie and the Christmas Ghost by Foxglove Lee

Author:Foxglove Lee [Lee, Foxglove]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: angels, Ghosts, haunted house, teen fiction, canadian historical fiction, paranormal ya, christmas novel, lgbt young adult, holiday young adult fiction, lesbian young adult romance
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

One of the girls got right up in my face and burped. “Ha! My burp sounds better than your song!”

The girls all laughed.

“On this street, you can only sing Ace of Base,” someone shouted.

“Yeah, they’re the best!”

Half the group of Erinville girls started singing Don’t Turn Around while the other half sang The Sign. Both were equally loud and off-key, but at least they’d found another focus. The competing gangs stood so close together Celeste and I struggled to slip through a gap. All I could think about was that scene from West Side Story where the Sharks fight the Jets.

“Hey, look how she’s walking!” one of the girls said. When her friends turned to watch, she swooped her leg around in an exaggerated motion. Was that supposed to be me?

Then they all started doing it, planting one foot heavily in the snow and then swerving the other leg around, landing gingerly on their toes. “Duhhh George!”

“Duhhh George!” they all shouted. “Duhhh George!”

My jaw dropped. Now I wished they’d go back to making fun of Show Boat.

“She’s not even from here,” a girl with a slicked back ponytail said. “Her dad bought the ghost house.”

“Haw-haw!”

They laughed as they walked down the street imitating me but also singing Ace of Base songs. Celeste and I turned to watch them go, on high alert in case they turned around to come after us. Eventually they must have forgotten we were there, because they started pushing each other around, teasing, shoving snow down the backs of each other’s coats.

“Do you know those girls?” I asked Celeste.

“I’ve seen them around town,” she replied.

“So they’re not in your class?”

She said nothing.

I don’t know how long we stood there in the middle of the road, just watching our tormentors, making sure they were through bothering us. It didn’t make sense that I could push around girls at my school because they were too nice to me, but when it came to the brats of Erinville I couldn’t speak up for myself. Those girls deserved a punch in the mouth. I should have run after them. I should have plunged their stupid faces in the ground. I should have done something. Anything!

Just when I got the idea to throw snowballs at their heads, a pick-up truck honked and flashed its high beams. Celeste and I shrieked, because it came out of nowhere. After we’d moved out of its way, Celeste took my hand and sang, “Why do I love you?”

That brought a smile to my face. I joined in and we sang even louder than before. I didn’t even worry about whether it sounded nice. By the time we’d arrived at my father’s house, we were just laughing and screaming the lyrics.

“Want to come inside?” I asked.

Celeste shrugged and we entered the unlocked house which was, mercifully, quiet. Dad’s workers had even left a plate of Christmas cookies and a nice card saying they’d see him after Boxing Day. That meant my dad and I would be spending Christmas in a house without a working kitchen.

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