While Tyler and Coop go to grab their shoes and sunglasses, Nessie and I head down in the elevator, and even though the waffle is cold and plain, it’s delicious and still pillowy soft.
“Feeling better?” Cooper asks as I take a long sip of my iced coffee once they meet us in the lobby.
“Give me ten minutes.”
He chuckles, waiting to keep stride with Nessie. It’s sweet and thoughtful and only marginally painful to watch.
My dress is white and ends at my knees, shifting with the warm breeze as we step outside.
A car is parked at the curb, waiting for us. Miles is not.
The ride is mere minutes. We’ve barely gotten ourselves situated before our driver is pulling over for us to get out again at a large mansion with a crooked sign, the paint cracking and rippled from sun exposure.
“Welcome. Welcome,” a woman greets us with a thick Southern accent. A half dozen others are standing outside that we join. “Twins! Now, this should make for a very interesting tour. Did you know twins used to be considered bad luck and only recently have been known as good luck?” I swear she leers at us.
Nessie grips my hand, and we exchange a look as we join the rest. This lady’s nuts, and I’ll kick her in the vajayjay if she tries anything.
“We’re so glad you’re here—and by we, I mean myself and the ghosts who live here—because this building, in addition to many others in New Orleans, is occupied with ghosts, and they love visitors.” The tour guide rubs her hands together. “Has anyone been to New Orleans before?”
A few raise their hands.
Tyler does not.
I know he’s been here, but apparently participation is low on his list, along with being decent.
“I hope you’ve all had some good food and drinks, and are enjoying the music and sights. This afternoon, I’ll be giving you a little bit of history while also introducing you to some of my friends. If I go over anything too quickly or if you have any questions, please feel free to ask me. Also, please make sure you stay with the group. The ghosts are friendly when we’re in large numbers, but that can change quickly if you wander off by yourself.”
Several laugh and make jokes about this possibility, while I cast a look at the mansion, realizing this might be one of my worst ideas because though her warning is cheesy, the hairs on my arms are already standing on end, regardless of the heat and humidity that has most of the crowd fanning themselves.
“As some of you may know, Louisiana was named after King Louis the Fourteenth after France took control over the territory for a second time. And New Orleans is considered the most haunted city in all of America. Why, you might ask? New Orleans has faced numerous grisly tales, ranging from pirates to yellow fever, which lasted for over a hundred years and was responsible for over forty thousand souls, the heartless murders of slaves, fire, and many more tragedies. Some say those who die here can’t rest because there’s no solid ground. Others attribute it to the many who practice mystical arts, from voodoo to vampires and witches. You will quickly realize that New Orleans is home to a diverse population, and many refuse to leave it even after death.
“This part of the tour is my absolute favorite. We’re going to go inside of this mansion that was at one time a gorgeous and highly coveted hotel, but no one has been able to occupy it for the past seventy-five years because the ghosts refuse to allow anyone to live here.” She waves a hand forward. “Let’s go inside.”
We follow the others who are pointing to a group of crows, trying to add their presence as a factor for this place being haunted.
“Was this rated on a creepy scale?” Nessie asks. “Like, I need to know now if I’m going to be able to pee alone for the foreseeable future.”
Cooper chuckles. “It’s all for tourism.”
“Okay,” the tour guide says. “Please be sure to silence your cell phones, and make sure if you’re taking any pictures, you have the flash turned off. We’re going to be calling our ghosts, and they prefer the lights to be off.”
“I’m going to hate myself for this,” I whisper to Nessie, taking a step back so that our arms brush.
“Now don’t worry. We’ll still be able to see. We’re just going to dim the lights, but be careful and watch your step. Also, if you feel a cool breeze followed by a blast of heat, that’s a ghost.”
“And I’m done,” I say as the lights dim, and she proceeds to explain all the tools they’re using to detect said ghosts.
Something falls, and half the group screams. I reach for Nessie, but she’s pretzeled herself around Cooper. I pull in a deep breath through my nose, reminding myself this is likely staged. It’s fake. It’s fake. It’s fake, I tell myself.
The guide starts telling us about the house’s previous occupants, and my attention floats across the antique furniture and all the dolls that are staring at us—creepy, like they’re watching me—when she stops talking. “Oh, do you feel that? We have a change in temperature. The ghosts are coming.”
“Oh, hell no,” I whisper.
A woman screams, and something else falls, and before sense can stop me, I’m clutching Tyler’s arm, burying my face into his bicep.
“We’re going to take you upstairs to the bedrooms. A ghost who we believe was a nurse still lives up there, so if you feel someone stroking your arm, you’ll know it’s her. And there’s also a couple of children who like to play tricks and laugh.”
I still hate Tyler.
I’m still not about to let go of his freaking arm.
As the tour continues, the space between us lessens until I’m plastered to his side, jumping each time someone screams or claims to feel something.
My muscles are tight, and my shoulders ache as we finally leave the house, and I’m not proud of the thoughts that have me wanting to cut in front of everyone so I can get back to the safety of the street. Still, I remain anchored to Tyler’s side.
“Okay, we’re going to continue down this way to an above-ground cemetery,” the guide says.
“We aren’t going to talk about this,” I warn Tyler. “Ever. I’m using you, and that is all this is.” I refuse to look at him as we continue the few blocks, listening to the guide talk about the traps some would place on their houses so men couldn’t get in to steal their daughter’s innocence, and thank goodness Tyler is either amused enough or has grown enough of a conscience not to make any jokes about using me in turn.
“Are we really going into a cemetery?” Nessie asks. “This seems like a terrible idea. Like, I knew that wasn’t real, and I was still scared out of my mind. This is going to be so scary, I might cry.”
“I kind of want to see it, though. What if we go and bail out before they start the actual tour?” Cooper asks.
Before we can answer, the tour guide starts talking again. “Now, in addition to ghosts, we have a large number of vampires in New Orleans, so once again, staying together is the safest way to travel, especially when we’re going into a cemetery.”
“Fuck me,” Nessie says, shaking her head. “Sparkly ones. Please be sparkly ones.”
Cooper chuckles because like always, he’s practical and has already chalked this all up to old tales and has discounted any potential threat. While my major of astrophysics consists of laws, rules, and theories, right now my thoughts have abandoned all reason and sense and are currently theorizing all the ways we’re going to be killed as we cross past the gates of the cemetery.