Ascension Read Online Free PDF Page A

Ro’s sweet mouth. It had infuriated him, and had scared him because of the intensity of his reaction.
    Conner had told himself it was because he’d watched Ro grow up, but there, in Ro’s bathroom, Conner had kind of faced the truth. It was depressing and awful, but he thought he might be a little bit in love with Ro. Maybe it was just years of familiarity, or maybe it was simply loneliness. Conner knew Ro was lonely. How could he not be? And Conner himself was finding out that he wanted more than just to haunt and tease his living friends. He was glad to help them, and happy to have saved their lives a few times—but he was dead, and they weren’t. They all had someone, and he had…Stefan, who was a good friend, along with some other spirits. Was that all he’d ever get to have?
    He’d freaked upon seeing the file Ro had on him. The clippings were old, Conner had seen the dates on some of them. Something inside him had snapped. He didn’t want Ro pitying him, and didn’t want Ro thinking of him as the poor, dumb idiot who’d got himself tied up and carved into pieces.
    Seeing the picture of himself had been like being tossed from a hot skillet into a bucket of ice. Conner had had such a mix of emotions in him then as he’d looked at that picture, and now as he thought about it. He tried really hard not to think about what-ifs or dwell on regrets for past mistakes. All that did was depress him.
    But seeing himself in that picture—he’d kind of forgotten what he’d looked like. It was odd, really. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen his own reflection since he’d come into his current state of existence. He was sure he had an appearance, because he saw Stefan and other spirits. They looked like people to him, like living people except the colours of them were muted somewhat. And, of course, they could go all in spirit form, floating and disappearing, turning into balls of light or ripples of colour on the breeze.
    Had he just not cared to see himself? Could he see himself? That was easier to deal with than thinking about Ro and the confusing feelings that had arisen then. Conner zipped over to Sev and Laine’s. He immediately felt like a self-centred asshole when he saw Laine holding Sev on the couch as Sev cried quietly.
    Shit. He must have got an update on Alma. Conner didn’t hesitate, making his way to his friends and sending out comforting thoughts as he concentrated on touching them both. Death was a hard thing to deal with, and he wished he could do something for them.
    “If…” Sev sniffled and rubbed his nose on Laine’s chest before continuing. “Conner, if she joins you, tell me, okay? Can… Can you make her stay, like you did?”
    Conner found the words he wanted—they always seemed to be floating in the air when he tried to speak to someone who was alive—and pushed the words at Sev. “No. I don’t even know how I ended up here. If I could, I would do anything to help you.”
    It was strangely like growing up, a rapid maturation that had Conner feeling all of his years then, the living ones along with his spirit years as well. Seeing so much pain in his friend’s expression, in Laine’s, too, changed something inside him.
    Pranks didn’t seem nearly so interesting after that, and for a solid week he didn’t bother teasing anyone. Instead he sat back and observed the mourning process when Alma passed quicker than anyone had expected. She didn’t linger, her soul bright and vibrant as it shot up farther than Conner could see, and he was too afraid to chase after it. He didn’t want to go wherever it was she went. The idea scared him to his core. Sev cried harder when Conner told him Alma wasn’t with him.
    “At least she isn’t suffering anymore,” people told Alma’s loved ones at various times. Conner knew that was small comfort if it was any comfort at all. Sev seemed to have aged almost overnight, and Conner realised his friend had stopped bothering to colour