Not Dead Enough

by Tyffany D. Neiheiser

Genres: YA Mysteries & Thrillers; YA Romance

Synopsis

"A riveting page-turner."--Kirkus reviews

Girl in Pieces meets Cracked Up to Be in this raw and candid look at trauma about a girl who is being haunted and stalked by her definitely dead ex-boyfriend.

Charlotte survived the car crash that killed her boyfriend Jerry, but that night, everything changed. Charlotte wants desperately to get back to “normal,” --whatever that means now-- and start reconnecting with friends she hasn’t spoken to in months. And she’s trying to work through her PTSD with the help of her therapist, only she can’t tell the truth about Jerry or what really happened the night he died.

Just when Charlotte thinks she might be moving on, someone starts sending her threatening messages claiming to be Jerry, saying things only he would know. But it can't really be Jerry because there's no such thing as ghosts. The cold spots in her room must be a draft and the noises she hears must be the house creaking. There has to be a logical explanation for all of it. Because if ghosts are real, then Jerry came back for her—just like he always said he would.

Not Dead Enough is a gripping exploration of trauma from debut author Tyffany D. Neiheiser about a girl who realizes that running from the past will help you survive, but everything you try to escape will eventually find you in the end. Perfect for fans of Courtney Summers and Kathleen Glasgow! Authors note included.

Praise for Not Dead Enough:

"Neiheiser’s prose is confident and compelling . . .  a riveting page-turner . . . Goose bump inducing and thought provoking." --Kirkus reviews

"A harrowing and fresh foray into the thriller genre." --PW

"[A] fast-paced thriller [of how] the unspoken past can rise up and haunt the present." --Booklist

"Compelling . . . an unsettling story of the unseen hauntings of trauma and violence." --BCCB

 

Read more

Release date: January 23, 2024

Publisher: Viking Books for Young Readers

Print pages: 416

Sample

SEPTEMBER

CHAPTER 1

I hated being awake at two a.m. It was the loneliest hour, the time when it was hardest to keep my thoughts in check. During the day, it was easier to pretend I wasn’t broken. But at night, it was impossible to ignore. Even my cat, Paisley, was curled up asleep somewhere else. She never came into my room anymore.

The house creaked and I flinched. I never used to be like that. But now, everything made me jump.

It was just a settling noise. Probably.

But what if it wasn’t?

Were the doors locked? I’d checked them an hour ago, but what if, when I checked them, I’d accidentally unlocked them?

My therapist, Gemma, told me my anxiety lied to me, and I knew she was right. But knowing something and feeling it were two different things. My brain knew the doors were locked. I remembered locking them.

But my anxiety whispered that I couldn’t trust what I thought.

I huffed out a breath and got up.

I eased my bedroom door open and tiptoed downstairs, using my phone to light the hallway. I checked the front door, then the kitchen door. They were locked. Of course they were locked. I closed my eyes and sighed.

When I got back to my room, I stopped in the doorway. My room was cold, and it hadn’t been a few minutes ago. Weird. I put on a sweatshirt and sat back down.

I thought about texting Lori or Ian, but normal people were asleep.

I’m the only one who’ll ever love you, Charlotte. The memory of Jerry’s voice echoed in my head.

If Jerry and I were still together, I could text him. He never cared if I woke him up. He’d send me videos of ocean waves and tell me stories of how we’d lie on the beach or build sandcastles. While he talked, I could almost smell the salt and feel the hot sand.

But I couldn’t text Jerry anymore. That part of my life was over.

I rubbed my achy eyes. Eventually, I’d be able to sleep.

As I scrolled through my phone, I tapped my foot. I opened Awake All Night, an app for insomniacs like me. I’d never messaged anyone, but I liked knowing other people were awake too.

One of the dots was only a few miles away. I’d looked at his profile before, but never messaged him. Starry_Nate, 16, Connoisseur of the Weird. The next closest people were Twinkletoes, 77, Former Ballroom Dancer, and Cogsworth, 43, Collects Talking Clocks.

Starry_Nate’s feed showed an article he’d shared about smart people being messy and staying up late. It was one I’d already read, but I skimmed it again. I hesitated. There was a Nate in a few of my classes. He seemed nice, but I’d never talked to him.

Randomly talking to someone wasn’t something I normally did, and if I were less exhausted, maybe I would have been nervous. But I was tired of thinking about the locks and Jerry.

2:03 AM

Sew_What?

Did you actually read the article before you shared it?

Starry_Nate

Of course. I read anything that makes me look good

. According to the article, I’m a genius.

Sew_What?

You know it was probably written by someone who wanted to justify being messy and sleeping in, right?

Starry_Nate

Obviously. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.

I smiled. But then the skin on the back of my neck prickled, like someone was watching me. I tried to ignore it. I was alone in the room. The doors were locked. Everything was fine.

2:10 AM

Sew_What?

What does “Connoisseur of the Weird” mean?

Starry_Nate

Did you know bullfrogs don’t sleep?

Okay, who even knew stuff like that? Did he just Google “weird random stuff”?

2:11 AM

Starry_Nate

Or snails have teeth?

I laughed, then covered my face with a pillow to muffle the noise. My parents would freak if they knew I was still up. They liked to pretend my insomnia wasn’t happening. My mom always told me “fake it till you make it,” meaning that I was supposed to pretend nothing was wrong, even when it was. She was the master of that, saying she was okay when she wasn’t and putting on makeup as armor so no one would know she had feelings.

2:12 AM

Sew_What?

Gotcha. Weird random facts.

Starry_Nate

What is up with girls being obsessed with Pride & Prejudice?

My smile faded. How did he know I loved Pride and Prejudice? But then I remembered my profile had a “favorite books” section, and I could breathe again. It didn’t mean anything.

2:14 AM

Sew_What?

Does liking something make me obsessed? It’s not like I’m going to change my name to Elizabeth and start wearing petticoats.

Starry_Nate

Changing your name would be stepping over the crazy line.

The crazy line. I flinched and my fingers went still on my phone.

I knew he was joking but still, I hated that word. Sure, I called myself crazy sometimes, but it was different when someone else said it.

Thump.

I jolted and looked toward the sound. My heart sped up.

Everything looked the same as it had a moment ago. Except for the book now lying on the floor. It must have fallen off my nightstand. For no reason. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms, then picked up the book. It was cool to the touch. I hesitated, then put it back.

My laptop sat open on my desk, the screen saver giving my dark bedroom a subtle glow. I couldn’t sleep in the dark anymore, so I left my laptop open as a night-light. I lay back down on my bed and scrolled through pictures on my phone. There was ten-year-old Lori and me in a blue kiddie pool in my backyard, our smiles and pink bathing suits matching, Lori’s hair dark where mine was light, her skin tanned golden, while mine was pale and luminescent with sunscreen.

Next up was a picture of Ian and me when we were about twelve, grinning at the camera with our arms wrapped around each other, our faces smeared with icing from our annual birthday cake fight. Ian’s brown skin had turned a richer shade of sepia from his being outside all summer. Then Ian standing alone in his basketball uniform. A freckled arm slung over his shoulder was the only indication that I’d cropped Jerry out.

My eyes pricked with tears, and I squeezed them shut, trying to remember who I’d been without Jerry. It was like taking the stitches out of leather. You could remove the thread, but the holes would still be there, showing something was missing.

When I was with Jerry, I’d become a version of myself I didn’t recognize. Now that he was gone, I wasn’t sure who I was or if I liked the person I’d

become.

I threw my phone down, not wanting to think about how I used to be. I turned onto my back and stared at the beach poster on my ceiling.

My phone pinged.

2:23 AM

Starry_Nate

You still there?

I deleted the message I’d started writing. I started to delete my chat history, then remembered I didn’t have to do that anymore. Jerry wouldn’t see me messaging some other guy and get jealous. He couldn’t accuse me of hiding things. He couldn’t make me feel guilty.

I pushed the thoughts away. There was no point in thinking about any of that.

Because Jerry was dead, and he wasn’t coming back.

 

CHAPTER 2

The next day, at lunch, I half listened to the buzz of conversations around me as I picked up an overcooked chicken nugget and tried to convince myself to take a bite. Lori was scrolling on her phone. Ian was sitting at the same table as us, but facing away.

Everyone around me was talking and laughing, eating their lunches. We were together in the middle of the cafeteria, but I might as well have been on a deserted island.

If Jerry were still here, he’d be the center of attention. He could turn even the most boring story, about turning in some homework late or getting caught using his phone in class, into an adventure. Even when he was talking to someone else, he’d be paying attention to me. He would have picked up my hand and kissed it. Or started thumb wrestling with me. I smiled a little and reached up to touch the locket I used to wear before remembering that it was in a box at home. My smile faded and my shoulders hunched.

Gavin plopped down next to Lori, his tray clattering on the table. “Aren’t you two juniors?” he asked, looking back and forth at me and Lori.

I wanted to squirm, but I met his eyes. “Yes.”

“So why are you guys at the senior table?” He gestured. “Run along with the other children.”

Lori shifted to face him and scowled.

Ian turned toward us. “Leave them alone. They always sit with me and Jer—” Ian cleared his throat. “With me.”

Gavin shrugged and turned away, talking to someone else.

Ian slung an arm around my shoulder. “Charlie.”

“Ian.” I looked at him and raised my eyebrows.

“What’s with the gray?” He jerked his head toward my T-shirt.

I looked down at it and fidgeted self-consciously.

“Shut up,” Lori said. “What’s wrong with her shirt?”

Ian shook his head. “Wrong? Nothing. It’s . . . fine, if that’s what she’s into.” He shifted his eyes to me. “But what happened to the rainbow one? Or the one that said ‘Stop Slut Shaming’?”

I smiled, remembering. I’d pieced together letters from a bunch of other T-shirts to make the slut shaming one, so it looked like an old-time ransom letter. It had taken weeks to find the right shirts at the thrift store, but it had been worth it. 

“It’s hidden at the back of my closet,” I said. “My mom threw it away after the principal called her, but I rescued it from the trash.”

“So why don’t you wear them?” Ian asked. “This isn’t you.”

“I just . . .” Jerry’s voice echoed in my head: Why do you wear that weird shit? You’d be so pretty if you wore something feminine. My smile faded.

That morning, I’d thought about wearing a tangerine-colored shirt I’d bought over the summer, but I couldn’t make myself put it on. The gray shirt didn’t feel right either, but I thought it would help me fade into the background. Apparently I was wrong.

“She’s in mourning,” Lori said. “Stop teasing her.”

A headache crept across my temples and I looked down at my lunch.

“Sorry,” Ian said. “Wear what you want. Not like you need my permission. I just . . .” Ian shook his head, squeezed me in a one-armed hug, then turned back to his other friends.

Lori leaned across the table toward me and said, in a low voice, “I still can’t believe he’s really gone.”

“Neither can I.” I pushed my tray away. “I still feel like any minute, he’ll show up, acting like nothing happened.”

“I just wish things would go back to the way they were before.” Lori leaned her chin on her hands and sighed.

Lori had been through a lot in the last year too. Ever since her parents split up, it seemed like nothing went right for her. “Did your dad pick you up for dinner last night?”

Lori looked down at the table and shook her head. “He canceled. I guess taking his tacky whore to Hawaii must have tired him out.”

I flinched a little at whore but didn’t say anything. She already knew how I felt about words like that, and reminding her would just feel like kicking her while she was down. “I’m sorry.” I handed her a slice of orange.

She took it, but didn’t eat. “Let’s not talk about me. Yes, my life sucks. But Jerry dying is the worst of all.”

“Okay, I just . . . You’ve had an awful year.”

“We both have. I just want this year to be over,” she said. “Maybe I’ll wake up on New Year’s Day and find out everything was a bad dream—cheer squad, my parents, and JD.”

I rubbed my left wrist. She couldn’t blame me for her dad’s midlife crisis or her bad breakup, but having to quit cheer might have been on me. “I’m sorry we dropped you—”

Lori grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “It wasn’t your fault. Brittany and Angelica never take anything seriously. Coach should never have let them be bases.”

I couldn’t meet her eyes. My wrist had hurt that day, but I’d gone ahead with practice anyway. I should have sat out, but I didn’t want anyone to ask how I hurt it.

“And anyway, who knew my mom would freak out so much over whiplash?” Lori rolled her eyes. “Like, yeah, it’s a neck injury, but I’m totally fine.” She laughed. “How do you always get me talking about me?”

I shrugged. “I guess I’m just not that interesting.”

“Jerry thought you were,” she said, sighing. “You two were perfect together.”

I forced myself to smile, even while my shoulders tensed. Everyone thought Jerry had been the perfect boyfriend, but it was more complicated than that.

I think I’d be willing to live in any eternity, as long as you were there.

That’s what he’d said to me on prom night. I wouldn’t think about what happened after that. As long as I didn’t think about the rest, it was a good memory.

I knew he loved me. I really did. I tried to focus on that instead of remembering all the times he hurt me. I took a deep breath and changed the subject. “How are things going with Aiden?”

A shadow crossed Lori’s face. “Fine. He’s cute, I guess.” She fiddled with the necklace JD had given her.

I knew Lori still wasn’t over JD, but I wasn’t sure that them breaking up was a bad thing. Their relationship seemed sketchy. She’d never posted any pictures of him online, saying he was “shy.” He went to another school, so I’d never met him. And then he’d broken up with Lori right before prom.

“I don’t know.” Lori’s lips twisted. “I guess I’m not good at getting over things.”

“It’s not easy,” I said quietly.

Lori nodded. “I wish I could be more like you. Nothing ever bothers you.”

I laughed, a sharp, unhappy sound. I knew I’d become good at pretending, but I still expected someone to see through me. “Trust me, lots of things bother me.” My mom always said that half the battle of being okay was just acting like it was true.

Lori shook her head like she was trying to shake off her mood. “Speaking of handling things . . . do you think Jerry’s memorial is going to be terrible?”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I still don’t understand why we’re having it now. He died months ago.”

Lori shook her head. “He died so close to the end of the school year that it didn’t make sense then. I’m glad Principal Karsko didn’t just forget about him.”

A loud laugh broke through the cafeteria noise. Lori and I turned to see Brittany sitting next to Ian, touching his arm. Lori’s jaw tightened. “Can you believe her?” she asked in a low voice.

Brittany looked perfect, as usual, with her auburn hair in a perky ponytail and her tawny, flawless skin. She wore a pristine white T-shirt and looked untouchable. “What do you mean?”

Lori wrinkled her nose. “Her boyfriend almost died. It’s like she doesn’t even care. She dumped him, and look at her hanging all over Ian. Gross.”

My stomach turned over. The night Jerry died, he and I had been leaving prom when he crashed his car into Brittany and Caleb’s. Brittany broke her wrist and had bruises, but Caleb ended up with a traumatic brain injury. He’d been our star quarterback, but I’d heard he’d probably never walk again, let alone play football.

“It’s not like they were even together that long,” I said.

“Still. If she really loved him, she wouldn’t be acting like that. You’re not hanging all over any guy who looks at you.”

“Jerry and I were together for over a year.” My palms went sweaty. “They weren’t even together a month. And why do you care if she’s flirting

with Ian? Or anyone, really.”

“I don’t.” Lori shrugged. “Have you seen what she’s posting online about Jerry?”

I shook my head.

Lori huffed out a breath. “About the accident. And all these memes about drunk driving, like she’s so perfect. It’s like she doesn’t know you aren’t supposed to say bad things about someone who’s dead. She’s such a bitch.”

My stomach sank. If Lori thought that was bad, I couldn’t imagine what she’d say if I told her the truth about Jerry. But I couldn’t. Any opportunity I’d had to tell the truth had died with him.

“You know, she’s probably the one whose grip was off.” Lori glared at Brittany. “She was always jealous that I beat her out for flyer. I’m not saying she did it on purpose, but sometimes when you really want something, you do it . . . what’s the word?”

“Subconsciously?” I asked. “But I don’t think she’d do that.”

Lori rolled her shoulders. “Well, whatever. Brittany isn’t my problem anymore. Field hockey is great. It’s a lot of fun, and the other girls have been really great.”

“Congrats on winning your first game.”

“Yeah, thanks!” she said, but it sounded like she was forcing herself to sound excited. “Though it would be nice if someone came to cheer me on.” She shrugged, like it didn’t matter. “My mom had to work. Like that’s a surprise.”

“I’ll come to a game,” I said, then bit my lip. I didn’t ever feel like going anywhere, but I’d force myself to go for Lori.

“Really?” she asked, brightening. “That would be awesome. Maybe we can go to the diner afterward. We haven’t been there in forever.”

“Yeah.” I used my finger to smash one of the tater tots on my tray. “I’ll go the next time I have off work.”

“Where are you going?” Ian asked, turning toward us.

“Lori’s field hockey game,” I said.

Ian grabbed an unsquished tater tot off my lunch tray and popped it in his mouth. “I was there. Good game.” He grinned at Lori.

Lori rolled her eyes. “Of course you were. Girls running around wearing short skirts.”

“Hey, just because I enjoy ladies in hot uniforms doesn’t diminish my school spirit"

” His eyes twinkled.

Lori laughed. “Bring Charlotte to a game. I need a cheering section.”

“Your wish, my command.” Ian shot Lori a grin.

She shook her head, then took her tray to the trash.

Ian bumped me with his shoulder. “You okay? You look tired.”

I avoided Ian’s gaze. “I’m fine. Just had a lot of homework last night.”

He hesitated, like there was something more he wanted to say, and my heart sped up. When we were younger, he could always tell when I was lying. But I’d had a lot of practice in the last year, and had gotten better at it.

Finally, he said, “You know I’m here for you, right? That’s never going to change.”

“I know.”

He waited for a second, like he was waiting for me to say something else. I knew I could talk to Ian, but I wasn’t sure what to say. Then someone called his name, and he turned away.

---

* * *

During history, my eyes kept drifting two rows over to Nate. His brown hair was a little too long and he had dark circles under his eyes. He was pale, like he didn’t get enough sun. His glasses were hooked in the front of his shirt. He rested his head on his left hand, and his right hand was curled around a pen like he meant to take notes. His eyes kept closing, which could have been because he was the guy who messaged me last night, or because Mr. Heller was the most boring teacher in existence.

He wore a pewter T-shirt with some kind of print on the front. I tried to see what it said, but it was wrinkled from him being hunched over. His eyes opened and locked on mine. Before I snapped my gaze back to my notebook, I saw a slow smile spread across his face. For the rest of class, I kept my head down and pretended to take notes, doodling in my notebook.

That night, when I was taking a quiz online, a notification from Starry_Nate popped up on my phone.

1:12 AM

Starry_Nate

Hey, are you up?

I grinned. After ghosting him the night before, I wasn’t sure he’d message me again.

1:15 AM

Sew_What?

I’m here.

Starry_Nate

Did you know the bees are dying?

Sew_What?

I’ve heard that. Is that what you think of in the middle of the night?

Starry_Nate

Obviously. Doesn’t everyone?

I thought of my dead boyfriend. I wasn’t sure if thinking of dying bees was more or less depressing.

I was overthinking it. I hated my brain sometimes. He was just trying to keep it light. I could do that. Maybe.

1:20 AM

Sew_What?

I do online quizzes. Apparently my perfect hair color is fuchsia.

Starry_Nate

I had no idea that even was a color. Google pause.

Starry_Nate

Why can’t they just say pink? Why would anyone dye their hair pink, anyway?

Sew_What?

Self-expression, to stand out, to rebel. And it’s not pink anyway. It’s more of a dark purply pink.

Starry_Nate

So what’s wrong with saying dark purply pink?

Sew_What?

Because there’s a word for that. It’s fuchsia.

Starry_Nate

Okay, there’s a word for it. But it’s a word no one understands. Wouldn’t it be better to say it in a way everyone gets?

Sew_What?

So you’re saying I should dumb it down because someone doesn’t understand me?

Starry_Nate 

Are you saying I’m dumb?

I hoped he was just messing around with me. Jerry had often twisted my words so he could get upset, and I was not doing that again.

1:25 AM

Sew_What?

Well, as long as you don’t say you don’t know what color puce is.

Starry_Nate

I had to look it up. That one’s pink too! Why do all these awful colors have names?

Sew_What?

You’re obviously anti-pink.

My phone flashed a warning that my battery was low, which was weird, since I’d plugged it in when I did my homework. Maybe the cord had been loose. I rolled over on my bed, grabbed the charger, and plugged it back in.

Tap, tap, tap.

I paused, waiting to see if the sound would come again.

Tap, tap, tap.

The sound was coming from the window, like a finger on the glass.

I peered out the window. The night was dark except for the streetlamp on the corner. The tree in front of my window partially blocked the view to the sidewalk. The branches swayed. But I didn’t see branches touching the window.

Knock, knock.

I froze, then forced myself to take a breath. The soft knock had come from the door. One of my parents was awake, that was all.

I strode over to the door and opened it, but there was no one in the hallway.

My heart picked up speed. I leaned out my door again, looking left and right. Moonlight streamed through the hallway window, lighting the dark just enough to see I was alone.

Knock, knock.

I almost screamed as I whirled around. There. Someone was there. I saw them out of the corner of my eye.

Jerry.

I froze.

No no no. It couldn’t be.

I turned slowly toward him, but he was gone, like he’d never been there. It was just my dresser mirror, throwing my reflection back at me, my eyes too

wide and skin bleached of color.

But I’d seen him. ...