by Sarah Kuhn
She hit the answer button and Scott’s face filled the screen.
“What’s up, college girls,” he said, flashing us that easy grin. “I’ve got an update for you. We’ve scanned and tested everything and interfaced with Rose’s team—”
“And?” Aveda said, impatient.
“And there is some kind of supernatural energy present in everything,” Scott said. “The bracelet, the punch cup, the areas where your ghosts have appeared. But it’s not like any energy we’ve seen before—it’s weird and dark and chaotic. Nate needs to do some more in-depth analyses.”
“Is that what he’s doing right now?” I couldn’t help but ask. Nate hadn’t responded to the text I’d sent earlier. At all.
“No, he’s doing some . . . other analyses,” Scott said, his eyes shifting to the side. “I dunno. You know that guy, he’s always doing something.”
“Mmm hmm,” I said, deciding to let it go for now.
“Sorry, that’s not a lot of info for ya,” Scott said. “And I tried the locator spell, but came up empty. That doesn’t mean your new friend Pippa is definitely missing—my locator spells are always a little wonky. I was actually calling about something else as well, though. Did you guys get a package?”
“Hold on,” Aveda said, bolting for the door. Sure enough, there were two big boxes sitting outside our dorm room, which she toted inside.
“I think you’ll get a kick out of what’s inside,” Scott said, grinning. “It arrived at HQ the other day and I needed y’all to see it in person.”
“Wait, there are two boxes,” Aveda said, her brow furrowing in confusion. She scrutinized the label on one of them. “This one is . . . oh.” Her face turned bright red, realization dawning in her eyes. “Um, this one is a present I got for Evie. So the other one must be what you sent.”
“What present?” Scott asked. “Special baby gift?”
“It’s kind of a private best friends sort of thing,” Aveda said, her face flushing further.
“What?” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t remember—”
“Shhh.” Aveda gave me a pointed look. “We’ll discuss it later.” She turned back to Scott. “Um, let’s see what you’ve sent.”
“Please, open it now so I can see your reactions,” Scott said. “A mere photo cannot capture its majesty.”
Aveda and I exchanged a look . . . then pounced on the box at the same time.
“What in the world?” I said, diving through the foam pellets to find a pair of plastic-wrapped outfits. I handed one to Aveda, then began unwrapping mine. I pulled out a t-shirt with a factory-fresh iron-on of a cartoon duck. A pair of jeans. And a wig of dark curls that looked suspiciously like my actual hair.
“Is this for me to dress up as myself?” I said, turning the wig over in my hands. “I don’t get it.”
“No,” Aveda said, holding up a wig with a long, black ponytail. “These are our officially licensed Team Tanaka/Jupiter Halloween costumes—oh my god!” Her eyes lit up, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “Look at that, Evie, now everyone can dress up as us! Imagine an army of Aveda Jupiters marching down the street!”
“Terrifying,” I said.
“Hot,” Scott said.
“I love it!” Aveda crowed, putting the Aveda Jupiter wig on her head. “Thanks for sending these, sweetheart! My day is made.”
She and Scott made a few more kissy sounds at each other and hung up, while I just stared at the wig in my hands, wondering when my life had gotten so weird.
“Okay,” I demanded, once Scott’s face had winked out of view. “What’s this special best friend surprise you ordered for me?”
“I sort of forgot about it,” she said, nudging the package toward me with her foot. “Just, um. Open it. Maybe when you see it, you’ll remember . . .” She shifted her gaze away from mine, refusing to meet my eyes.
I ripped open the box, pawed through yet another layer of foam pellets, and unearthed one of the most disturbing things I’d ever seen.
“Aveda Jupiter,” I said, pulling it from the box. “What. Is. This?”
The thing I was holding consisted of a few scraps of red lace strung together with what looked like red dental floss. It had a strangely voluminous cape attached to it, also red. And it came with a sparkly gold tiara and a pair of thigh-high red pleather boots.
“Ummm,” Aveda said, her eyes shifting from side to side, “remember last night, during the Taco Bell feast? When I blurted out your Nate secret—which I did apologize for, remember—and then Pippa suggested we order you a sexy Halloween costume to spice things up? I chose, um . . .” She covered her face with her hands and mumbled something I couldn’t make out.
“What?” I said, batting her hands away from her face.
“Sexy Superheroine!” she yelped. “I’m sorry. In the moment, it seemed right. Blame the punch!”
I shook my head, and stared at the skimpy costume, unable to stop the giggles bubbling up inside me. “I . . . that’s . . . I mean, this will make me look like a wannabe vampire on a budget. But Annie, I have to ask, how does this go with my hot stranger desk sex fantasy? Since you mentioned that when you were ordering.”
“Oh, yessss,” she said, her gaze shifting to the side again. “Well, um. There’s actually something else in the box. Or there’s supposed to be.”
I went diving through the foam pellets again and pulled out another packaged costume kit. This one contained a silky cream blouse, a black pencil skirt, thigh-high stockings, a garter belt, and skyscraper high heels. Oh, and a pair of fake glasses.
“Sexy Lady Professor?” I said incredulously, reading the label. “How do they think lady professors dress?”
“See, I thought it could be like a two-part thing—because in your desk sex fantasy with the mysterious stranger, you were a grad student, doing professor-y things—”
“And I don’t think I ever wore heels or a pencil skirt while doing so—”
“And then after all the desk sex, you could transform into your current self. A superheroine! Swooping in to save the day. Er, Nate’s penis. Whatever!”
“Wow,” I said, surveying the array of fashion before me. “I can definitely say Nate will be surprised.”
“Oh, he will be,” Aveda said, reaching over to touch the barely-there lace of the superheroine costume. “Maybe it will shock him out of his current state, Evie—you don’t know!”
“How do I put this one on?” I said, holding the superheroine outfit up in front of me. “I can’t actually tell.”
“I think you have to, like, step into it,” Aveda said, studying the costume. “Is that a leg hole? Or an arm hole? Or, um, a hole for something else . . .”
“There’s definitely a lot of hole access,” I said, my giggles finally erupting.
I clutched the costume to my chest, doubling over. Aveda collapsed into laughter too, and we both just stood there for a moment, laughing until tears streamed down our cheeks.
“Oh,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I needed that . . . whatever that was. Stress relief.” I grinned at her. “And thank you. I don’t know if this will serve its intended purpose, but it’s sweet of you.”
“You’re welcome. And I just had an idea,” Aveda said, her eyes sparking with renewed excitement.
“I told you,” I said, setting both costumes down on my bed. “I don’t want to go to the library.”
“Not the library,” she said, jabbing an index finger in the air. “A different idea.”
She grinned at me, her gaze turning shrewd. Her wig was still plopped on her head, making her look like some bizarro version of herself with a crooked ponytail.
I sighed.
Somehow, I had a feeling there was no Odinsleep in my immediate future.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting in the damp grass of the courtyard, cu
rsing myself for not pushing Aveda harder on the whole going to bed early thing. I really needed to listen to the advice I’d given Shelby about boundaries.
Then again, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from worrying about Pippa and Julie, both missing in different ways. Shelby, devastated she couldn’t find her friend. Tess, who still hadn’t texted me back. What if they were missing too? I made a note to find their room tomorrow, even if it was invasive.
Aveda’s brilliant idea was for us to hang out in front of Morgan Hall and see if the courtyard ghost might make itself known again. She was disguised as Angelica, saying she wanted to practice holding the glamour. I’d left my Eliza glamour behind—maintaining it sucked the last bits of energy I had, and it was late and dark and the only person who might see us was a ghost.
It was almost midnight, an easy time to sink into the shadows. We’d positioned ourselves underneath the sprawling branches of a twisted old tree—not a twinkle light in sight. Even the stars were being shy, that layer of city gray and smog infiltrating campus and making the sky murky. Morgan Hall rose up in front of us. In total darkness, it looked less like a stately castle and more like an abandoned countryside manor—the kind of place with a hidden attic and more than a few skeletons in the closets. I swore I heard a faint howling emanating from its walls, but Aveda told me it was just the wind.
I burrowed more deeply into the folds of my unflattering oversized jacket, trying to stave off that biting chill that always seemed to linger, even when the wind had passed on. And I tried not to let my gaze wander over to the library build site, which was looking extra menacing in the dark, its shadowy edges flickering in and out of sight as the clouds covered the moon. A shiver ran up my spine.
Then the bell tower chimed midnight, its ominous alto song ringing out across the courtyard and rattling my bones. I hugged my jacket more tightly around me.
“Okay,” I said, turning to Aveda and firmly telling myself to stop shivering. “Now explain to me why we’re just sitting in the hopelessly damp grass in the courtyard, getting our butts all wet. I do not love this whole wet butt thing College Girl Angelica apparently favors.”
“College Girl Angelica doesn’t love it, either,” she hissed. She was also shivering—mostly because she still insisted on wearing her cool leather jacket. “But we’re gonna sit here until the ghost comes out and see if it talks to us—because you said it talked to Shelby, right?”
“Yes,” I said, replaying my drunken conversation with Shelby from the night before. God, that seemed like a lifetime ago. “Shelby said that not only did it talk to her, it said something really personal. Something that targeted the specific vulnerability she’s been feeling lately, and just, like . . .” I made exploding motions with my hands. “Boom.”
“What was that?” Aveda said, giving me an amused look. Or at least I thought it was amused. It was too dark to tell.
“That was, like, a feelings explosion sound,” I said, making the motion with my hands again. “The ghost made all of her pent-up feelings come out.”
“Hmm,” Aveda said, still studying me. She wriggled around on the grass, trying to find a comfortable, less damp position. “Maybe you should try to have your own feelings explosion—with Nate.”
“I thought you wanted me to be a sexy superheroine and swoop in and save his penis,” I said, poking her in the ribs.
“I do,” she said, scootching away and giving me an annoyed look. “But I also think you could tell him all the stuff you told me earlier. About how you’re feeling overwhelmed, why you’re afraid of what will happen when the baby’s here. Show him that you’re worried, too.”
“I can’t,” I said, shaking my head vehemently. “He’s so worried, Annie, and that would only make it worse.”
“I’m just saying, maybe if the two of you felt like you were in this together, you wouldn’t be so at odds,” Aveda said.
We sat there in silence for a moment, both of us shivering, the dark weighing down on us like a heavy blanket.
“Evie,” Aveda said slowly, her whisper cutting through the quiet. “The two of you have one of the most fairy-tale connections I’ve ever seen. There were times, especially in the beginning, when I was unspeakably jealous—I thought I could never have something that perfect.”
“Clearly it’s not perfect,” I muttered, picking at a wet blade of grass.
“Perhaps not completely,” she said. “But that’s life—and it doesn’t mean the two of you aren’t meant to be. I know you’re upset with each other right now, but take a step back: he’s worried because he loves you. He can’t imagine life without you. And he’s never really . . . had anything in life in terms of meaningful connections with people, you know? Not until you. And you don’t want to show him you’re worried because you don’t want to add to that—you feel smothered, yes, but you also can’t stand the idea of causing him any pain. You’re trying to take care of him, to protect him, but that means you’re discounting your own feelings. Remember what Pippa said last night: how you feel is important, too.”
“I . . .” I forced myself to stop playing with the wet grass and put my hands in my lap. My eyes had filled with tears again. These hormones just wouldn’t quit. But the thought of causing Nate any pain was enough to send a sharp stab of fear through my entire being. He’d been hurt so much in his life. I hated to see him hurt—and I really couldn’t stand the idea that I was the cause.
Right now, I was most definitely the cause.
“It’s sweet that you’re both trying to protect each other, in a way,” Aveda pressed, her voice gentler than I’d ever heard it. “But you don’t have to protect him from your own feelings, Evie. Have a feelings explosion with Nate. I mean, after you do all your sex fantasies. Talk it out, like . . .” She made the exploding motion with her hands. “. . . boom.”
Just then, I heard a noise.
“What was that?!” I whisper-shrieked, looking around frantically.
“That was me,” Aveda said, elbowing me in the side. “I was making a feelings explosion sound—”
“Not that,” I hissed. “I heard a noise.”
“What noise—”
“Shhhhhh!”
We both fell silent. I held my breath, waiting for—
Crack
“That!” I yelped. “It sounds like someone stepping on a branch or a pile of leaves or—”
“Shhhhh!” Aveda whispered.
Crick-crack
“What is it?!” I whispered, scanning the darkness.
I didn’t see anything. Well, anything except for a vast expanse of grass and trees and shadows and darkness and nothing moving, but—
Crick-crack, crick-craaaaaack!
“Gaaaaaaaah!” Aveda shrieked, leaping to her feet. Even in the darkness, I could see her positioning her body in a fighting stance. “Where are you, ghost?! Show yourself!”
“Er . . . yeah!” I bellowed, scrambling up. I stood next to her, arms outstretched, ready to call on the fire if I needed to. “We’ll take your haunted ass down!”
Craaaaaack!
The sound rang out through the courtyard and we both screamed.
“Good lord . . .” a voice murmured in the dark.
I hesitated, lowering my arms. That voice sounded very . . . human. And also very familiar. Unpleasantly so.
“Hello, ladies,” Richard said, stepping out of the shadows. He shook his head at me in infuriatingly smug fashion. “Evelyn Tanaka. I knew that was you.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“WHY ARE WE here?” Aveda grumbled, settling herself into the squashy couch in Richard’s living room. He’d invited us over to his cozy campus cottage, hoping to hear more about our “adventures in collegiate superheroing.”
“We need to make sure he’s not going to blow our cover,” I muttered, keeping my voice low. Richard was in the kitchen, humming to himsel
f and preparing a pot of tea. He knew I hated tea, which I thought tasted like dirty water, but he’d always believed prolonged exposure to his beverage of choice would turn me into a fan. “And he might be able to tell us something about the recent ghost attacks. Shelby and Pippa are in his class, and now we know Julie was, too. And he’s taught here forever. He probably knows a lot about campus lore.”
“Hmph, this is not the kind of ghost-hunting activity I had in mind. Or the fun collegiate activity I had in mind, come to think of it,” Aveda huffed, sitting back on the couch and crossing her arms over her chest. Her ponytail was a bit askew, her sneakers even muddier from stomping around the courtyard. She actually looked like the college kid she kept wanting to be, even though she’d dropped her Angelica glamour once we were back at Richard’s. “And what’s with all the closed doors,” she said, gesturing around the apartment. “What’s with that especially forbidding-looking one next to the bathroom? Does he have a Bluebeard’s chamber in here or—”
“Well, well, well,” Richard interrupted, bustling into the living room with a tea tray. “What an unexpected delight. Or should I say semi-unexpected, since I knew you were lurking around campus, Evie. The way you came for me in class the other day . . .” He set the tray down on the coffee table in front of us and gave me the tiniest of golf claps. “It was so wonderfully familiar. You used to question my taste in literature all the time, do you remember?”
“Not really,” I said dryly, thinking back to Mouse Evie, who almost never challenged Richard, no matter how awful he was being. “I remember you lecturing me on why your old white man books were clearly superior to anything I liked, but usually you just made whatever you said the last word on the matter. So there was nothing left to discuss.”
“Ha!” Richard actually said the word “ha.” Out loud. Instead of just laughing. “Then perhaps it was the particular opinion you stated. You always took your connection to certain stories so personally. In any case, when I gave you so-called lectures during our courtship, I was merely trying to provoke your brilliant mind, my dear. To get you to express your deepest analyses. It seems that in the intervening years, you’ve developed a talent for pushing back, for arguing most . . .” His lips curved into the secret smile he used to give me whenever things started heating up between us. “. . . passionately.”
