The Ghostly Grammar Boy

By Sandra Thompson

For a dead guy with unfinished business, he was pretty cute.

Fiona is a completely ordinary fifteen-year-old from Canberra—at least that’s what she’d like you to think. She doesn’t want anyone to know her secret. She can see and touch ghosts and it’s all thanks to her pesky twin sister, Ella, who happens to be dead.

Following the mysterious death of a boy from the local grammar school, Fiona navigates the perilous high school social hierarchy to investigate. With the help of Ella, Fiona uncovers a dangerous web of family secrets and betrayal, and learns more about the perplexing world of ghosts and boys. High school is hard enough without having to sort out your dead sister’s love life as well...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sandra Thompson
• Release date: Sep 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301388394

Sandra Thompson

SANDRA THOMPSON is a native of Chicago and a graduate of Ohio Wesleyan University and Brooklyn College, where she received her MFA. She lives in Tampa, Florida.

Book preview

The Ghostly Grammar Boy

Sandra Thompson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Sandra Thompson

License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

The next book of the Dusk Duo Series: The Deadly School Camp

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

Carly Taylor's perky ponytail was blocking my view.

Not that I wanted to see the whiteboard anyway. It was way too hot for the first day back at school. No one, including me, was paying attention to Mrs Murphy's drone. The slippery stains of her colossal sweat patches were just too distracting.

My friend Lara fidgeted next to me. Like me, she was dying to get out of this blistering classroom and into the refreshing water of the local pool where we were working as swimming instructors this afternoon. The summer break had been rough. Canberra's relentless heat wave had robbed us of any chance to enjoy our emancipation from school. In an attempt to spare ourselves the demeaning task of begging our parents to drive us three hours to the closest beach, Lara and I had decided to trade our services. We were teaching screaming kids to swim for some extra pocket money and cool water.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as Mrs Murphy's bulging eyes glared at me, before she turned her sweaty self back to the whiteboard.

Gross. And ouch! My thighs were currently stuck to my chair.

That's the thing about living in Canberra. Stinking hot summers and bushfires are followed by icy winters. Canberra's quiet, crime-free streets are lined with government offices and businesses, family homes, and beautiful parks. Parents considered it a safe place to raise children. Most of us teenagers couldn't wait for the day when we could escape and get a life.

I wasn't one of them, though. There was one thing I really liked about Canberra. Something that I wouldn't trade for the best nightlife in the world.

Canberra doesn't have many ghosts.

Don't get me wrong, Canberra has some ghosts—far too many of them—but compared to older cities like Sydney, there are far fewer of the menaces around.

Unfortunately, most people don't appreciate this like I do. Mainly because I'm the only one I know who can see and talk to ghosts.

Ghosts have plagued me my whole life. As long as I can remember, they've been wanting to chat with me in the middle of a maths exam. Or play charades when I'm trying to shoot the tie-breaking goal at netball.

And just so you know, I totally blame my sister Ella.

Ella is my twin. She's six minutes younger than me, and often, six times more annoying. Mum said that as babies we shared a special bond. We would talk to each other in baby language and cry if we were separated. We always wanted to play with the same toys, and we followed each other everywhere. Unfortunately for me, this special twin bond must have been extremely strong because when Ella mysteriously died in her sleep when we were two years old, our bond continued on a spiritual plane. So years later, while my parents were still grieving for Ella, I was playing hide and seek with her. My parents thought I had an imaginary friend.

Now, thanks to our connection, I have to play hide and seek with all the other ghosts around—not a fair game when you're playing with ghosts.

For example, what chance did I have right now of hiding from Ella when she'd suddenly decided to appear and sit on my desk?

'Get off! I can't see the whiteboard!' I hissed at Ella.

'Oh come on, Fiona, don't pretend you're trying to listen to this!' Ella laughed. 'We haven't talked for ages. I want to tell you about my new boyfriend.'

'Yeah, sure, great,' I mumbled into my hand. After years of practice, I'm getting pretty good at making my talk sound like I'm clearing my throat. I was still getting weird looks from my classmates though. Carly Taylor had even turned around to glare at me.

'Uh oh, I think you're interrupting Carly's daydreams about what she's going to do with Shane at her pool party this weekend,' Ella snorted.

Pool party? It annoyed me that even my dead sister was more down with the social calendar than I was.

Determined to avoid starting off this year as the throat-clearing class weirdo, I scribbled a note to Ella. 'Haunt me tonight. Love to hear all your goss. Now get lost or you can do my trig homework for me!'

'Okay, okay, keep your pants on. I'll leave you to your precious trig. See you tonight.' As Ella faded, she couldn't resist annoying me a bit more. She ruffled my straight, dark brown hair. Instinctively. I tried to bat her hand away from my head.

Incidentally, that's another special gift I have. I can not only see ghosts, but can touch them as if they were alive. To me they feel like normal people with deathly cold skin. Most people tend to pass straight through ghosts without realising it. Or, occasionally, they'll feel a cold sensation. This means that if a bunch of ghosts passed through our classroom right now, my classmates would probably appreciate the cool breeze, whereas I would have to make sure I moved so I didn't get trampled on. And that would look really weird—jumping up in the middle of class for no apparent reason. I would definitely earn another glare from Carly.

Not that I care what Carly thinks of me. Carly is one of the ring leaders of the popular group that make everyone else's life at high school hell. Unfortunately, our last names both begin with the letter T, so we always end up stuck near each other when our grade is organised into alphabetical order. Think about it. That means she's next to me in the line for school portraits. She's always in my roll call, maths and English classes. She always sits next to me in exams. And we're always in the same group on school camp. However, unlike other people in our year, I don't live in awe of Carly. I don't go crazy at the sight of her perfectly layered blonde hair, big brown eyes, and long, slim legs, like everyone else seems to. It's one of the reasons she doesn't like me. But that's okay because the feeling is mutual.

Which is why last week it was so weird when she was nice to me.

I'd managed to convince my older brother Brett to drive me to the shops for the January sales by bribing him with the promise of a sundae at the new ice cream shop. I desperately needed a new bikini. The swimming carnival was coming up in term one, and I was not going to be the only year-ten girl in a one-piece, like last year. Mainly, we both wanted to get out of the heat and into the air-con. After two minutes of looking at the bikinis in a trendy swimwear shop, I realised there was no way I could afford any of them. I was either doomed to a one-piece or I would have to buy a cheap bikini from the family department store. It was time to give up and get ice cream. As we walked into the popular new ice cream shop, I realised too late that Carly was working behind the counter. Trust her to not only get a job in air-conditioning but to get the only job in Canberra that involves unlimited access to free ice cream.

'Hey, Carly. Two cups of triple chocolate chunk, please,' I ordered as I passed her my money and tried to pretend I was indifferent to the whole situation.

Carly looked at my face. In a deliberate manner, she lowered her eyes as she checked out my clothes. I'd seen her do this to others before. It was a subtle move designed to leave you feeling self-conscious. I refused to let her make me feel bad. I was wearing short shorts that were great for the heat but exposed my freckled legs and uneven tan. I was also wearing one of Brett's baggy t-shirts for good air flow. I'd roughly tied my straight brown hair back in a ponytail to keep my neck cool. Carly, on the other hand, looked like she'd stepped straight out of a fashion magazine, with her summery dress showing off her long, tanned limbs. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail artfully designed to look messy and casual, but from the faint smell of hair spray, I knew it had been carefully styled.

I pretended not to notice Carly's inspection. Her large brown eyes returned to my face to deliver the final part of her routine—her trademark look of disdain mixed with pity. The disdain made girls feel self-conscious, whilst the element of pity delivered hope that maybe they could one day be her friend. This subtle balancing act allowed Carly to maintain her posse of followers wherever she went.

Carly was just about to give me her trademark look when she noticed my brother. Instantly her face lit up. Brett tends to have that effect on girls. Personally, I can't see the attraction.

'Fiona! Hey! Great to see you again! Is this your brother? Brett, right? I'm Carly,' Carly giggled as she extended her hand to Brett. She then fidgeted with her hair in a fake display of nervousness designed to make her seem approachable.

I had to give her credit. The girl was a master of flirtation. She hadn't counted on my oblivious brother though.

'I've seen you around school. You're in year twelve, right?' she continued.

'That's right. So you're at Canberra High too? Are you in the same year as Fiona?' Brett replied.

Brett's the type of easy going guy who is happy to have a chat with anyone. This, along with his dark hair, grey-green eyes, and apparently hot, rugby-toned body has made him very popular. It also means that I have to watch shameless flirts like Carly work their moves on him. Luckily for me, Brett is totally clueless about all the attention he gets—living in a dream world of music and rugby union.

Carly leaned into the counter and allowed her hands to brush Brett's as she passed him his cup of ice cream. Sickening.

'Yeah, Fiona and I are roll-call buddies. We go way back. Had some good times.' Carly proceeded to prove this false claim to friendship by jovially slapping me on the arm with a paper napkin. She continued on, despite my incredulous look.

'Hey, aren't you friends with Shane Harris?' she asked Brett.

'Shane? Yeah. Fun bloke. He's on my union team. How do you know him?' Brett asked as he took his first mouthful of chocolatey goodness. Well, I could only imagine it was good, since Carly seemed to have completely forgotten my order.

'Oh, you know, hung out with him through friends a bit over summer. Say hi to him from me,' Carly replied as she handed Brett my change, her fingers brushing against Brett's again.

Having suddenly lost my appetite for ice cream, I dragged an oblivious Brett out of the store by the arm. As we left, Carly called out to me in a friendly voice that would have had me fooled if I hadn't been hardened over the years to her tactics.

'Great seeing you again, Fiona! We'll have to catch up in roll call!'

Things felt much less surreal now that we were in maths class and Carly was back to glaring at me again.

CHAPTER TWO

Teaching kids to swim was hardly the cool relief I'd been hoping for.

'Brian! Do you want to sit out?' The little punk had splashed me in the face yet again. I understood that the kids were excited to be in the water, but it would really help my job if they'd apply their excess energy to their strokes rather than to splashing me. I didn't remember being this hyperactive when I was in primary school.

I looked over at Lara. Her deceptively strong yet slim arm muscles flexed as she helped a child push off from the wall. Lara was a natural-born athlete, with long limbs, a powerful frame, and boundless energy. Her curly, chestnut brown hair clung in stringy wet ringlets to the sides of her heart-shaped face as her hazel eyes intently watched her class. Lara's students were obediently practising their tumble turns.

No surprise there. Lara is one of those girls who commands respect. Her calm demeanour seems to inhabit a five-metre radius around her. Unlike me. Somehow I generate a war zone wherever I go.

I grabbed hold of a freckled arm that flew past my face in an awkward attempt at freestyle and offered some helpful coaching. Unfortunately, the squirming eight-year-old attached to the freckled arm had little interest in my wise advice. I hoped her parents weren't witnessing my unsuccessful attempt to teach their daughter. It was hard enough meeting my own parents' expectations without having to answer to other kids' parents as well.

I don't know why I'd ever thought this was going to be an easy, fun job over summer. My stress seemed to heat up my body more than the water cooled me down. I wished my parents would just give me decent pocket money like my friend Brooke's parents do. I could be in the air-conditioned shopping centre right now, spending it on a double chocolate fudge brownie.

'Bluuurgh!'

I almost threw up. Something was wrong.

Yeah, I haven't mentioned the other side effect that comes with my ghost curse. Sometimes when people are in grave danger and I'm close by, I can feel their pain. I have a theory that it's because their spirits are on the brink of leaving the world of the living and crossing over into the spirit plane where I regularly deal with them.

And just so you know, I don't appreciate this gift either.

It's a hideous feeling when there's a car crash in your suburb and suddenly you feel queasy until the ambulance arrives. It's also quite awkward trying to explain to the emergency services how you know there's an accident five blocks away if you haven't seen it yourself—which is one of the reasons that I'm a huge safety freak. I don't want to have to put up with any more nausea than I have to.

'Bluuurgh!'

I clutched my stomach. The feeling was really strong. Much stronger than usual. Whatever was happening was happening nearby. My head was going foggy. I felt like I was about to pass out.

I had to focus. I willed myself to straighten up and tried to take in the external environment.

No car noises. No burning smell. No cries of pain. Everything seemed fine except for the pain in my head that was growing stronger.

I can't breathe. My lungs are burning.

Someone in the pool! Someone was drowning. Frantically I scanned the pool area.

Nothing.

Then I noticed the water-polo pool. A boy was floating. Face down.

'Lara!' I yelled. 'Watch my kids for me!' I jumped out of the lap pool and ran towards the boy. It was only fifteen metres away, and I made it in seconds. My whole body felt like it was tearing up on the inside.

'Lifeguards! Help!' I yelled as I ran forward.

The boy was floating not far from the edge. I could reach him if I stretched. There was no way I was getting in the water, feeling as sick as I did. I did not want to be face down on the bottom of the pool myself.

I kneeled down beside the pool and stretched out to reach him.

Help me! My lungs are burning, I heard in my mind.

I couldn't reach him. My head was throbbing now. I couldn't go on. I was about to pass out.

I can't hold on much longer. Please hurry! The voice in my mind pleaded again.

Determinedly ignoring the pain in my head, I reached forward and tried to grab the boy again. My fingertips brushed his hair.

'Here, let me in.' I felt a strong arm pull me up.

Thank goodness. The lifeguards were there. The tall, sun-browned lifeguard easily reached the boy with his hands and dragged him towards the edge, then the second lifeguard helped to hoist him out of the water. It was definitely a sign of how close this boy was to dying that I didn't even have the energy to admire the lifeguards' bodies.

I crouched on the concrete, barely able to raise my head to watch what was happening.

The lifeguards were checking to see if the boy was breathing. They were blowing into his mouth. Suddenly the boy was coughing and sitting up.

My head cleared. He was going to be all right.

I felt two wet hands on my shoulders. 'Hey, are you okay?' Lara asked.

'Yeah I'm fine. That was just really intense,' I replied, standing up. 'Where's my class?'

'Relax, Fiona,' Lara smiled. 'I let them join my kids for the last five minutes of class. That was our last lesson for the day, remember? By the way, you've got some really good swimmers in your group.'

Trust Lara to have transformed my wild class into Olympic champions in five minutes.

I rolled my eyes. 'Yeah they're real athletes.'

CHAPTER THREE

No one gets homework on the first day back at school, right?

At least that's what I told myself as I crawled into bed, exhausted. Who does Mrs Murphy think she is, with her big sweat patches and her unreasonable homework assignments? I forcibly pushed the memory of Mrs Murphy's lecture about 'staying on top of your maths homework' to the back of my mind. In its place I tried to visualise the body of the lifeguard from the pool today. It was difficult without remembering the little boy drowning. That was something I didn't want to think about for a very long time. Preferably never. On the other hand, I was willing to use the topic as an ice-breaker to start a conversation with that lifeguard. My head was still throbbing. Surely I deserved something good to come out of the afternoon.

He'd be sitting watching the pool. Then he'd notice me in the water teaching my class. He'd rush over, full of admiration and praise for how I'd helped to save a young boy's life. He'd jump in the water and wrap his arms around me. Then he'd lean in and—

I almost jumped out of my skin.

'Ella!' I cried. 'Why did you do that?'

Ella, in typical younger-sibling-brat style, had woken me by clapping her hands in my ear.

It was unreasonably late for a social visit. I glanced at my phone on the bedside table to check the time, but the screen was fuzzy. That wasn't surprising. The spectral emissions from ghosts tend to mess up electronic devices like mobile phones and computers. Considering how often Ella is hanging around, it was amazing that any of my phone calls and text messages came through at all.

Ella laughed. 'You look so funny when you're angry!' She playfully threw a pillow at me which I not-so-playfully returned. Her dark eyes and eyebrows stood out against her pale white skin as she laughed. Ella had wide brown eyes that were almost circular when she was thinking but crinkled into a long, flat squint when she smiled. Her small, pointed nose turned up slightly so that she always looked a bit mischievous. Being my twin, she was an identical, ghostly version of me.

'You shouldn't be asleep anyway, Fiona. You said we'd talk tonight.' Ella stuck out her lip in what she probably thought was a cute look of pseudo-sadness. She should have saved it for her boyfriend, because it just infuriated me more.

I rolled onto my stomach, covered my head with my pillow and groaned. I allowed myself five seconds to feel sorry for myself. It was nice that I could still talk to Ella fourteen years after she'd died, but did we have to talk when I was trying to sleep?

I sighed and rolled back over. 'You're right. I should have waited up for you. Tell me about your new boyfriend.'

Hopefully, he was better than some of her past horrors. I felt a bit sorry for her. I mean, it's slim pickings out there as a young

Reviews for The Ghostly Grammar Boy

[beverlyjean-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

What if your twin sister who died when she was two, is now a teen ghost and visits you often? What if she and her ghost boyfriend suspect his twelve-year-old brother is being drugged and they ask for your help? You’d offer whatever help you could, wouldn’t you?Author Sandra Thompson’s novel THE GHOSTLY GRAMMAR BOY, a paranormal story for young adult readers, follows fifteen-year-old Fiona, who, unlike most people, can see and talk to ghosts, as she attempts to discover who wants to kill the ghost Chris’ brother, Alan. Enter Shane, a friend of Fiona’s brother, and also a hunk who suddenly takes an interest in Fiona. To her surprise, he also can see ghosts. Soon the mystery gets more complicated, and Fiona doesn’t know whom to trust. To keep from giving away the plot, I’ll just say that Fiona finds more trouble than she ever imagined. The author adds twists and surprises to keep the reader guessing who and most of all why Alan’s life is in danger. I was beginning to suspect what was going on toward the end of the story, but Sandra Thompson kept the suspense and tension high so I wasn’t sure how the story would end. THE GHOSTLY GRAMMAR BOY is a fun read with good guys and bad guys, jealousy and friendship, along with danger and revenge. This is the first book in the Dusk Duo Series. I wonder what the ghosts will be up to next. This novel would make a nice addition to school libraries, perhaps to show how jealousy and revenge can drive a person to do the unthinkable.The author provided me with a copy of this book for my honest review.###