Haunted Heroine

by Sarah Kuhn

  “What does that mean?” Aveda said. “And why do you think that?”

  I turned to look at her. She’d been so uncharacteristically quiet, I’d almost forgotten she was there. But now I saw that she was scribbling away in a Morgan-branded notebook with a Morgan-branded pen. That intense focus that had guided her so well through her superheroing career was on full display, and it looked like she’d already filled several pages of the notebook. She was glamoured as Angelica, but the flinty determination in her eyes was one hundred percent Aveda Jupiter. With her hair pulled into a sloppy version of her usual power ponytail, her school swag, and her muddy sneakers, she looked so classically college student, I couldn’t help but have a flash of what it would have been like to be in college together.

  I guessed that’s kind of what we were doing now.

  “Do you really not know what it means to ‘pass over’?” A surly-looking girl with a mass of auburn curls gave Aveda a patronizing look. “That’s a really basic concept and our discussions and action items here in the society tend to be pretty advanced, so maybe this isn’t the club for you—”

  “Miriam, we don’t gatekeep,” Leonora said, giving the girl an admonishing smile. “But perhaps this is a topic better suited for our newest warriors once they’ve been to a few meetings—”

  “I’d like to hear about it now,” I said, giving Leonora a pleasant but firm smile. I nodded at Tess, encouraging them to continue.

  “Passing over is like when a spirit finally leaves the mortal realm entirely,” Tess said, their eyes flicking to Leonora. Now Tess was starting to look defiant. I flashed back to them talking about their “friends” who had convinced them that their ghostly encounter hadn’t happened. I wondered if one of those “friends” was Leonora, because I could totally see it. I gave them another encouraging nod.

  “When they manifest as ghosts in our world, it means they’re caught in between worlds,” Tess said, their voice becoming more sure as they started to get into it. “And since Morgan has so many spirits who have appeared for so long, one of our primary discussion points here at the society—well, at least in the past—involves trying to figure out what it would take for them to pass over.”

  “I see,” Aveda said, scribbling madly. “And have you been able to help any of the ghosts with that?”

  An immediate silence fell as everyone stopped chewing on cookies and just stared at Aveda.

  Tess opened their mouth to speak, then closed it abruptly, their eyes going to the floor.

  “No, my dear,” Leonora said, looking at Aveda like she’d just suggested something positively unspeakable. “One of the primary tenets of our society is that we don’t believe in interfering with the business of the spirit world. Helping a ghost pass over interrupts the natural order of things.”

  “It wasn’t a primary tenet until recently,” Tess muttered, frowning at the floor.

  “But you all are so thirsty for any and all details about Shelby’s story,” Aveda said, scribbling in her notebook again. “Shouldn’t you be upset with her for interfering?”

  “Hey!” Shelby hissed.

  “She wasn’t trying to help the ghost pass over, though,” Miriam said. “She was just reacting as she normally would—therefore, whatever Shelby did was what was meant to help the courtyard spirit in the first place.” She gave Shelby an approving nod.

  “So how do you think Shelby helped the ghost, even if it was unintentional?” I asked, trying to steer us in a useful direction. “You said you’re always trying to figure out what it takes for ghosts to pass over—so do you have any idea what it was here?”

  “It’s very hard to say unless our warrior sister is willing to share more about her encounter,” Leonora said, turning her benevolent smile on Shelby. There was something underneath that smile again. Not quite a threat, but this was definitely a test.

  I expected Shelby to look down and retreat, turning inward, but instead she met Leonora’s gaze. “No,” she said firmly.

  Something about Leonora was bringing out a defiant side of Shelby I hadn’t seen before—and I liked it. I’d have to compliment her later on holding her ground.

  Silence fell again, and this time it was definitely uncomfortable, the sounds of the society chewing on their cookies punctuating every single second. Only Aveda seemed unbothered, still scribbling away in her notebook.

  “Well,” Leonora said, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “if that’s all we have to discuss tonight—”

  “Wait!” I blurted out.

  Everyone swiveled to look at me. Including Shelby and Aveda, who both gave me “what the fuck are you doing?” looks.

  Okay, so yes, I’d tried to encourage them to blend in and now I was doing the exact opposite . . . but I couldn’t leave this meeting we’d spent so much effort getting into with nothing.

  “Um. So there was a rumored haunting just the other night in Mara Dash,” I said, my words coming out in a rush.

  “Oh, Ms. Takahashi, we can discuss more recent hauntings at the next meeting,” Leonora said. “But I always like to end our society sessions whenever the energy feels exactly right—”

  “This can’t wait,” I interrupted. “It’s urgent. Um, yeah, an urgent haunting.” I could feel Aveda staring at me, her eyes practically boring holes in my skull. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t the best at this whole undercover improv thing, but Tess and Miriam both looked intrigued, leaning forward ever so slightly.

  “We believe there was some kind of bartender ghost at the dorm party a couple nights ago,” I barreled on. “A girl who interacted with Angelica and me, and who seemed fully human. There was no wailing, no appearing all blue and translucent-like—although she does have kind of a blue aura around her in photos. She just looked like a regular student. And the punch she was giving to people was possibly spiked with some kind of . . . I don’t know, magical element. That made everyone want to confess their darkest secrets. But later we discovered no one else had even seen this bartender—we were the only ones. So. Have you guys ever heard of something like that?”

  I slumped back on my cushion, slightly winded.

  Everyone just kept staring at me.

  “I . . .” Tess began—but then Leonora caught their eye and gave them the slightest of frowns. They seemed to wilt on the spot, sinking into their cushion. “I . . . I’m not sure we have,” they concluded.

  “Okay,” I said, trying a different tack, “well, surely you guys know about the volumes of student documentation in the Mara Dash Quiet Room—I brought this one with me . . .” I pulled the book from where I’d tucked it next to me and held it up. An audible gasp went through the room.

  “Oh my god,” Tess whispered, their eyes widening.

  “Is that real?” hissed Miriam.

  “Young warrior,” Leonora said, her eyes flashing with something I couldn’t quite place. “Where did you get that?”

  “I mean, from the Mara Dash Quiet Room?” I said, lowering the book to my lap. “I thought that was obvious?”

  “Student documentation tomes are a very old and very valuable chronicle of our lived history,” Leonora said. “They are not to be removed from the rooms where they are placed. I’m surprised no one went over this with you?”

  “Um, nope, they didn’t,” Aveda said. “We’re still new here, we don’t know all the protocols.”

  “Anyway,” I said, turning to the section of torn-out pages. “Someone had already damaged this particular valuable chronicle of our lived history, and it’s the section that deals with our ghostly bartender. I thought that was weird and I thought maybe your, ah, educated paranormal insights could help us figure out why someone might do this.”

  “May I . . .” Leonora said.

  She held out a queenly hand in a way that indicated this was not a request.

  I passed her the book. She spent a few m
oments paging through, inspecting the ripped-out section, clucking disapprovingly.

  “I see,” she finally said, closing the book and looking up at me. “This is certainly a can of worms you’ve stumbled into, Ms. Takahashi. So even though this is your very first meeting and you haven’t been through all of the society’s initiation rites—”

  “The what, now?” Aveda muttered under her breath.

  “—I’ll share with you what we know about Victoria Morales, the ghost of Mara Dash.” Leonora hesitated, her gaze going dark. “Her story is very tragic. Which is one of the reasons she’s our least known spirit. The college has tried to suppress all information about what happened to her.”

  “Then why don’t you, the ghost-hunting society, get it out there?” Aveda said, gesticulating with her pen. “I mean, if you know what happened to her—”

  “It’s not that simple, Ms. Chin,” Leonora said. “Now. Tess, Miriam—why don’t the two of you share Victoria’s story with our new warriors. See if you can remember all the most important details.” Her smile, once again, had that “this is a test” feel. I wondered if everything was a test with her.

  “Right,” Tess said, looking a bit uncertain. “Victoria attended Morgan in the fifties. She was one of the first students to be admitted to the school on a full scholarship, and she had to overcome so many obstacles just to go to college in the first place. She was an orphan—”

  “Of course,” murmured Aveda. “Because this story has to be the most tragic.”

  “—and she and her grandfather, Horatio, were each other’s only living family,” Tess continued. “His health was failing by the time she graduated from high school, and she took care of him—worked a whole host of odd jobs while going to school.”

  “That must have been hard,” I murmured, feeling a stab of something sharp and familiar. That sounded a lot like my grad school experience.

  “She always felt that the other students—your classic wealthy white girls, on the path to become good high society wives—looked down on her,” Miriam said, picking up the thread.

  “They did,” Tess muttered. “She felt correctly. But she found a passion in the Bio department—it’s actually pretty amazing that Morgan offered Biology at all back then. It was the beginning of the transition from being a finishing school for only the richest young ladies to a college that actually teaches useful shit. Victoria had always loved the science courses in high school, but being able to really focus on all the elements of Bio—it made her feel like she could better understand how our world works. And it made her think: maybe she could break some barriers, become a scientist. From what I understand, her grandfather was her biggest supporter, and they had quite a bond over this. He really wanted her to achieve her dreams.”

  “And then of course there was her paramour,” Leonora said.

  I tried not to recoil, hearing that term yet again—she and Richard really were a perfect match.

  “That’s right,” Miriam piped up. “Victoria fell in love with Jocelyn, another Bio major—”

  “Ooh, I’m a Bio major!” Aveda exclaimed, scrawling more notes.

  “—and they extended their love of experimenting in the classroom to inventing their own special cocktails,” Miriam continued. “They’d stay up until dawn, mixing drinks and trying them out with their friends.”

  “It sounds sooo romantic,” Tess said, clasping their hands to their chest.

  “Except,” Miriam said, shooting Tess a look, “their relationship at the time was forbidden, particularly by Jocelyn’s wealthy family, who had promised her hand in marriage to some other rich Bay Area family. Her future was all laid out for her, but once she met Victoria, all of that changed.”

  “So what happened?” I said, on the edge of my seat.

  “Jocelyn and Victoria made a plan to run away together, right after graduation,” Miriam said. “Jocelyn stole money from her family so that Victoria could set up a fund and a private nurse for her grandfather, so he’d be taken care of for the rest of his life. But at the last minute . . .”

  “Victoria couldn’t leave her grandfather,” I whispered, my voice quavering.

  “Ev—Eliza,” Aveda whispered, laying a hand on my arm.

  I realized then that my eyes had filled with tears. I couldn’t help it—obviously my and Victoria’s paths were different, but there were so many things from her story I recognized. That feeling of being pulled in a thousand different directions, of not being able to handle everything, of loving someone so much—

  “You’re correct, Ms. Takahashi,” Leonora said, giving me a small nod. “Victoria went to see her grandfather one last time—and realized she couldn’t leave him behind, even if she knew he was taken care of. She met Jocelyn on the roof of Mara Dash, where they’d agreed to rendezvous before running away, and told her she couldn’t go through with their plan.”

  “I’m guessing Jocelyn took it . . . not well,” Aveda said.

  “That’s right,” Tess said, picking up the story again. “Jocelyn was enraged. Morgan had opened her mind to so many new ideas, and so had Victoria—but at her core, she was still a rich white girl who was used to getting her way. And Victoria wasn’t budging. Soooo . . .”

  “Jocelyn cried and screamed and argued,” Miriam said. “And when none of that worked, she wiped her eyes, pretended she understood—and excused herself to make Victoria a drink.”

  “Oh god, did she poison it?” I said.

  “Yes,” Tess said, pointing at me with the last bit of their cookie. “She and Victoria had learned a lot of interesting things in Bio and Chem together. She brought the drink out, all smiles, and Victoria took it . . .”

  “And then at the last minute, Jocelyn had a change of heart,” Miriam said. “She snatched the drink away just as Victoria was about to imbibe. And then she took a big ol’ gulp of it.”

  “Wait, what?” Aveda spat out, looking up from her notes. “Damn, so much drama. Jocelyn was messy.”

  “Was she trying to poison herself?” I said.

  “We think it was more of the, uh, messy element,” Tess said. “Like, she had a brief moment of ‘If I can’t be with you, I don’t want to live.’ I don’t think she actually meant to kill herself.”

  “Of course Victoria, being such a smartie, immediately figured out what Jocelyn had done,” Miriam said. “She made a grab for the poisoned glass, tried to snatch it away from Jocelyn. They scuffled and . . .”

  “And ended up falling off the roof of Mara Dash together, to their deaths,” Tess said, their eyes going shiny. “As the legend goes, Victoria’s grandfather also died that year—of a broken heart. God, it’s just so tragic.”

  “Yeah,” I murmured, thinking back to our ghostly bartender. She’d seemed so vibrant, so full of life. It was unspeakably sad to think of her plunging to her death in the prime of her young life.

  “So do you know of others who have experienced a haunting from Victoria?” Aveda said, raising her hand like she was in class. “How has the college kept that hushed up?”

  “While she’s a long-running ghost, she is also an infrequent one,” Leonora said. “And as the legend goes, she only appears to one or two people at a time—which seems to track with your sighting.” I couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to be the only one completely unaffected by Victoria’s story. Her students were all wiping tears away, sniffling, or at least looking moderately disturbed. Perhaps, as the head of the society, Leonora had heard this story over and over again. But I couldn’t imagine not being affected by it at all. “There have only been a handful of sightings over the years, and the college has managed to suppress most of them.”

  “Victoria usually appears as a more human-like apparition than, say, the courtyard ghost,” Tess said. “Remember that the ghosts of Morgan take on different forms. But it’s interesting that she interacted with you guys so much! Kind of li
ke Shelby’s ghost.”

  “Yes, we’re still piecing it together,” Aveda said. “Why would Victoria’s punch make us so uninhibited? How does that connect to her story?”

  “Victoria wished she could live her truest life—maybe she’s trying to get us to do that,” I said, trying to figure it out. “And since the punch affected us, making everyone at the party be completely honest, at least for a moment . . . I mean, does that mean she’s passed on? Is that what it took?”

  “That part will likely remain a mystery, Ms. Takahashi,” Leonora said, giving us one of her all-knowing looks. I couldn’t help but feel that it bordered on smug. “You may just have to wait and see if you encounter Victoria again.”

  “Although . . .” Tess’s brow furrowed, like they were working something out. They opened their mouth, then closed it, their gaze sliding to Leonora again. “There’s another part of the passing over theory I’ve been working on—”

  “Tess, please.” Leonora frowned at Tess. “You must remember that exploring this side of the spirit world is very dangerous. That’s why other members have had to leave us—”

  “Only one member left us,” Tess muttered under their breath. “And actually, she was kicked out. You kicked her out—”

  “Stop.” Leonora shot Tess a forbidding look. This time, she wasn’t even bothering with a maternal façade—her gaze was freezing cold. “Please. We don’t share society business with newcomers, remember?”

  “Right,” Tess said, the fire in their eyes dimming. They slumped back against their cushion, sulking.

  “We’d like to be more than newcomers, though,” I said, attempting to sound eager but not desperate. “When’s the next meeting?”

  Leonora trained her gaze on me, those brilliant green eyes sizing me up. Her stare was so direct and unwavering, it unnerved me—even more than the darkened windows of Morgan Hall.

  “I’m sorry,” she finally said, after what felt like an eternity. “I don’t believe we’ll be able to extend an invitation of membership to you at this time.”