Dead, Actually Part 1

Dead, Actually.

Kaz Delaney.

For my parents, Kate and Len Redman.

Thank you for everything, always.

For Rob, You make it all worthwhile.

Always.

Prologue.

My life is neatly dissected into two, like a set of before-and-after shots. Life before September twenty-second and life after September twenty-second.

September twenty-second. The first day of spring holidays and the day my parents dropped the bomb that, at just barely two months after my seventeenth birthday, I was old enough to face life alone, because they were going off to the Far East to spread the word of G.o.d. No doubt they were also going to spread a fair bit of my grandparents hard-earned cash which also just happened to be my inheritance.

September twenty-second. The day my parents gave me the brother Id always wanted. He was nineteen, looked like an Adonis and I hated him on sight. My advice? Careful what you wish for . . .

September twenty-second. The day Joanne (JoJo) Grayson died.

It was this third event that rocked me the most, which was bizarre, because apart from attending the same school, JoJo and I didnt even travel in the same stratosphere. At least, as far as she was concerned.

But then she died.

And we were suddenly connected.

I guess that happens if youre the one who finds the body. Its even worse if in some totally flipped-out twist of fate youre also the last one to speak to that person alive. Those last words, incidentally, continue to echo in my mind; Ill never be able to utter them again without thinking of JoJo. My mouth had hovered over the microphone, my fingers poised over the keypad: 'Would you like fries with that?

She did . . .

They were probably the last things to pa.s.s her lips. Complex carbohydrates.

Sixteen minutes later it was me who called triple zero. Right after Id found her car wrapped around a tree when I was driving home at the end of my charity shift. Just sixteen short minutes after JoJo had collected her chicken salad combo with low-fat ranch dressing.

Last to speak to her alive. First to see her dead.

Considering wed barely spoken in life, I shouldnt have been surprised that this shot our relationship to a new level. I mean, as bonding experiences go, they dont get much deeper, right?

Well, thats what everyone else thought, anyway. And as a result, life as I knew it changed completely. Why? Because JoJo was news: Year 12, an A-lister, a leader, one of the totally cool girls. And so, by a.s.sociation, I became news too.

Im pretty certain that if I hadnt volunteered to cover drive-thru for the 'Do it for a Kid charity day that fateful Sat.u.r.day, then most of the senior kids at Ruth Throsby Private High School still wouldnt even know I existed; Id still be barely a blip on anyones radar.

Instead, I was the target.

Me, Willow Cartwright: D-lister by choice, political rebel, totally uncool by A-list standards.

After JoJos death that all changed. Everyone wanted to know me. Everyone had questions. Had she hit the tree on purpose? What had she said? Who was she p.i.s.sed at?

Everyone had an agenda, a reason for wanting to know.

And so the Angels came calling.

And the jocks.

And the hangers and wannabes.

And for some reason, they thought I had the answers.

What I wanted to know was why?.

Chapter One.

'O.M.G., is this funeral going for a Guinness Book of Records listing or what? What are all these people doing here? More to the point what are we doing here? I cant believe you blew off the Freedom of Choice march for this. Or that I let you talk me into it when I should be working on my blog.

I didnt bother glancing across at Macey as we slid into the back pew of the old church-turned-commercial-venue another Gold Coast sacrilege. The whole church was filled with hundreds of candles and white flowers; satin angels hung at the end of each row of seats. If you asked me, it looked more like a wedding was going to take place than a funeral. 'You know why Im here.

'The connection thing. I didnt have to see the eye-roll to know it had happened. 'Which doesnt explain what Im doing here.

'Respect, Mace. Its called respect. I shrugged. 'And if that answer doesnt work, consider it respect for your best friend whos been totally freaked since JoJos death. Okay, its not every day you find a dead body so, sure, that has to rock your world a bit but instead of getting better, the feelings had been getting more intense in the six days since Id found JoJos body. I could only hope that once she was buried Id start to get back to normal. If I was being truthful, thats why I was here and why Id dragged Macey with me.

Unperturbed, Macey Pentecost leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. Her knee-high leather boots creaked and her retro black mini rose another two inches, but she ignored both. 'But what about everybody else? she drawled, flicking her dead-straight, black, shiny hair over one shoulder. 'My moneys on morbid curiosity. Come on, Wills. All these people cant be here because they liked her. She was a b.i.t.c.h!

That was Macey. Outspoken, irreverent, independent and smart. She never apologised and she took no prisoners. Even while she was seemingly bored, I knew her mind would be trawling for an angle for her social-justice blog, Just Juce.

On the other hand, I was happy to be sucked into the moment the music, the atmosphere and the reverence. The service was amazing. And Macey was right: everyone was there, including most of the Gold Coast politicians and minor celebrities, and they all wanted to say how wonderful JoJo had been. It was kind of interesting seeing her life through the eyes of other people, especially when none of it gelled with what we knew of her.

Which, in fairness, wasnt much, so who knew?

It was her parents I couldnt drag my eyes away from, though. They looked so lost. JoJo had been their only child and they clung to each other like theyd fall if they let the other go. Especially her dad. I couldnt remember ever seeing anyone as emotionally shattered as he looked. Broken was a word that came to mind; he just looked broken . . . Like hed never be able to put himself back together. Whether youd loved or hated JoJo you couldnt help but be affected by that much pain. And as I watched them, I actually felt it; felt it squeeze my heart; felt their emptiness. And with that came envy. I didnt want to be dead but I wasnt sure my own folks would be so cut up over it if I was.

What would it be like to be surrounded by that much love?

Before I could fall any deeper into my own well of self-pity, I was jerked back to the present by the music switching up a gear. Everybody stood and the recessional started. JoJo was making her final exit.

And I had to admit she was doing it in style.

Wheeling out the baby-pink coffin were eight of her last boyfriends. All in dark suits. All looking miserable and d.a.m.n it all still managing to look totally hot. Hadnt she ever dated anyone who didnt cause you third-degree burns just by looking at them?

Especially the one whod just walked into my sight-line. My heart skipped a beat. There was Seth. Second from the end. In his greyblack Hugo Boss suit and dark gla.s.ses. If I had issues with JoJo, it wasnt really because she was spoiled and perfect and b.i.t.c.hy and loved by her parents it was because shed had Seth. For a while, anyway.

Seth, who made Zac Efron look like an also-ran. Seth, who was Maceys big brother. Seth, who treated me like a little sister.

Seth. Tall, dark and hot. The main reason I was still a virgin . . .

What am I saying? The only reason.

It had taken me a long time to forgive him for being such a cliche for being such a guy! I always thought he was better than that; better than those other guys who worshipped at JoJos feet. Still, I literally had to drag my eyes away from his slowly retreating shoulders, but what came next was no easier to bear. JoJos parents, both supported by relatives, both sobbing . . .

'Oh my G.o.d Im going to puke.

The words. .h.i.t me like a bucket of freezing water. Frowning, I blinked at Macey, who gagged and rolled her eyes toward the aisle. And thats when I saw them: the Angels JoJos group of girl hangers. They were following behind the family, wearing black from head to toe with sheer black scarves covering their heads.

And each wearing a pair of black angel wings.

Theyd brought tasteless to a new low.

They even held black lace handkerchiefs that nearly all of them were quietly sobbing into. Okay so my puke sensor was set higher than Maceys, but I had to admit the whole effect might have been more dramatic if the girl on the front right Jade? Jade Farrow? wasnt making eyes at the hot guy sitting in the pew opposite us.

'Is it me or is it really off to hook up at your friends funeral? I didnt give Macey time to answer, instead just sighed. 'And is it bad that Im not getting the black angel thing? Are they supposed to be sad angels or fallen angels?

She shook her head at me. 'I dont see angels at all. Just black widow spiders.

'Dont black widows kill their mates and eat them after theyve done it?

Macey c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. 'Eat them? Only if these bulimic babes can spit them up afterwards.

'Youre bad.

Macey grinned. 'Thank you.

Trailing the group was Kristie Negerson, the one Angel who always seemed out of place with that crowd. She was also the only one to make eye contact. It was short and sharp, just a glance in our direction, really, but it rocked me almost as much as everything else that had happened so far.

Hatred?

But just as quickly as it had appeared, it morphed into a sickly kind of smile and then disappeared so fast I even wondered if Id imagined the whole thing. 'Did you see that?

'Hmmnnn . . . Macey murmured. 'Weird . . .

I was still reeling as we shuffled onto the end of the recession line and made our way to the big arched doors. Outside I slipped on my sunnies against the glare only to have them immediately knocked off again.

'Scuse me . . .

Thank goodness for Maceys quick hands or I would have hit the pavement. 'Hey! Watch it! she yelled before turning back to me. 'You okay?

I nodded and replaced my sungla.s.ses. 'That guys a society photographer. Ive seen him at Grans charity events.

'No prizes for guessing where hes headed, then, Macey added in her typical drawl.

She was right. And his targets knew it. Like true society princesses, the Angels broke their huddle to offer a pose, all looking like underfed catwalk models suitably heartbroken at the loss of their friend, and I had to admit it was a great shot.

Right until the last possible second.

It was smooth and subtle, but effective. All it took was a sway to the left and Chloe Goldman managed to block out Demi Leverle and Teahna Balducci to take centre stage of the shot.

I shook my head, half in disbelief and half with reluctant admiration. 'Impressive move.

'Oh yeah, Macey murmured, 'the queen may be just barely dead, but these princesses are already fighting for the throne.

Official photo shoot over, the Angels seemed to preen for a moment, as though waiting for others to jump in to snap them. It didnt happen, but as their scanning gazes rolled over the crowd Teahnas clashed with mine. It was like Kristies reaction all over again, but this time there was just a stiffening followed by a smile and cute little wave. If I was surprised by that, then youd have to call my next reaction shock, when all the other Angels started offering more cute little half-fisted waves.

'Oooh, lucky you, Macey muttered. 'Girl fans.

'Lucky? Shouldnt I be terrified? I muttered back. 'This is too weird . . .

Finally the wave-fest was over and they moved to the crowd gathering around JoJos parents, who hovered near the coffin. The sight of it sent a shudder rippling through my body. JoJo was in there.

Shed been so alive.

But now she was in that box.

I was trembling, trying to block the images that suddenly reappeared. Images of her car, twisted like it was nothing more substantial than a toy. Images of JoJo, lying in the midst of the torn metal, looking like she was merely sleeping. Images that had haunted me, day and night, since the accident.

I wasnt even fully aware I was frantically rubbing my hands over my bare arms until Macey spoke. 'You cold or something?

'Or something. I shrugged. 'Come on. I cant watch any longer.

I was starting to regret coming; Id hoped for some kind of closure but I was feeling worse, and I knew I had to get out of there. Macey could roll her eyes at my so-called connection, but she wasnt the one living with it. The edginess, that feeling of needing to look over my shoulder. Weird. Totally. And getting worse every second I was here.

Macey didnt argue, of course, and we were just sidestepping two politicians in deep, private conversation when one of the guys broke away from the pallbearers and ran towards us. I moved out of the way so he could pa.s.s, but he zoned right in on me. His smile was like someone had flicked a switch and let loose a thousand watts. Even on this typical Gold Coast day where the sun stroked everything with glittering fingertips, that smile was like a beacon. And it kept zooming in. On me.

His hand was outstretched before he even stopped jogging. 'Willow Cartwright?

Surprised, I nodded.

'Um . . . okay. Im Pete Hamill. He took my hand and shook it.

Like I didnt know who Pete Hamill was. Everyone knew Pete Hamill. And every female over twelve at least at our school l.u.s.ted after him. He was a demiG.o.d and here he was holding my hand. Okay, technically he was shaking my hand but there was still flesh on flesh.

And just to disprove an urban myth, that flesh didnt melt off my bones to pool in a glob of yearning desire at his feet. In fact nothing happened.

I directed a quick glance toward Macey but shed stepped away. And my heart sank. Thanks for abandoning me here, Mace! Okay, I knew shed moved away to give us the illusion of privacy, but she hadnt fooled me she wasnt missing one word.

I cleared my throat. 'So . . .?

Pete darted a quick look over his shoulder, then sighed. Curious, I followed his line of vision but nothing jumped out at me. By the time he actually spoke Id started to wonder if he even remembered I was there.