The ghost screamed, too, and Angie screamed again, and so did Stevie! He pushed away from the door and into the back of the closet. He had nowhere to go, but he panicked and just pressed his body against the wall as hard as he could, trapping Angie behind him. The thing stood in the opening, a shadow within shadow. And then it spoke.
"Stevie?" Emily said. "Angie? What are you guys doing in the closet? You scared the Gatorade right outta me!"
The shadow turned and fumbled in a drawer. When it turned back, it had a flashlight aimed at them. "What's wrong with you two?"
"Emily!" Stevie said. He jumped up and hugged her. In the glow of the flashlight, Stevie saw Angie's tear streaked face. She laughed and hugged Emily, too.
"Ow!" Emily cried, trying to pry free of their grasp. "Ow, ow, ow! Get off you whackos!"
"We thought you were her!" Stevie said. "The ghost from The Grove!"
"What are you talking about?" She roughly pushed the flashlight into Stevie's hands and said, "Do I look like a ghost?" She sounded really annoyed and grabbed a hanger from the closet. "Geesh, a girl can't even hang up her coat before you kids start screamin' and jumpin' on her. Scared me nearly to death."
Stevie didn't even consider apologizing. He was so relieved that he stood stunned for a few moments. As Emily closed the closet door, he noticed that her hair was frizzy and tangled like it always was when wet, and she had a bandage wrapped around her knee. He pointed the flashlight down at her leg. Around the bandage he saw yellow and purplish bruises, and a number of scrapes and cuts.
"Em, what happened to your leg?" Angie asked. Her voice was a shaky whisper.
"Gimme a hand," Emily said, and wrapped an arm around her brother's shoulders, and another around Angie. "I got tripped and slammed down hard in the second quarter, and they had to stretcher me off the field. Coach and the doctor said I'll be fine, but man! It hurts!"
They walked her to the couch and set her down gently.
"So that's why you were limping," Stevie said, more to himself.
"Well, duh!" Emily said, and then her face softened. "I'm sorry, Stevie. I'm just upset about this, and the game. And to top it off, there's something wrong with a belt or something in my car. It made this horrible squealing noise all the way home and everyone felt like they needed to stare at me! Like they've never heard a loose belt before! I got out to check it, but there's nothing I could do. Except, evidently, get soaking wet in the storm!"
Stevie started laughing. He couldn't help it. It made perfect sense now. The screaming was the squealing of her car’s belt. The hair that was wet and went frizzy from the storm. The lightning probably even made it worse. And the limp, which matched the ghost! He laughed uncontrollably, and Angie joined in.
"Real nice, barfbag!" Emily said. She took a pillow from the couch and hit them both with it. "Some brother you are!"
Stevie couldn't even stop laughing long enough to say I'm sorry.