Brent’s face had gone pale and he was shaking his head furiously. A strong wind picked up and lifted the russet colored curls off Dallin’s face. “Yeah, something of a reputation.”
“Huh.”
“Anyway, since you aren’t dating him, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to the homecoming dance next weekend.”
My eyeballs threatened to pop from their sockets. “Sure.”
The air started whipping around us, lifting leaves and pebbles that were directed at Dallin, pelting him. My skirt and hair waved in the gusts and I shielded my eyes as small rock a bounced off of Dallin and flew toward me.
“Great.” Dallin smiled broadly, lifting his forearm to protect his face. “I better go. See you in math.”
As Dallin got further away from me, the air settled to a soft breeze that whispered along my skin. Rocks, leaves, and twigs dropped to the ground, and I sneezed as the excess dust tickled
my nose.
“He just asked you out right in front of me,” Brent complained.
I bit my tongue until it hurt, trying to stay the laughter threatening to stampede out of my mouth. Finally I said, “You do know he couldn’t see you, right?”
Brent scowled. “Yeah, but how did he know I wasn’t planning on asking you?”
“It sounds like your reputation preceded you,” I said, my bitterness drizzling over my words. I drew circles in the dirt with the toe of my shoe.
“I never liked Dallin.” Brent ground his teeth together while levitating a rock in front of him.
“So, no comment on him saying you get around, huh?”
Brent rubbed the back of his neck, and his lips moved but no sound came out, like he was practicing a speech. “I plead the fifth.” He tried to smile but it didn’t quite work.
My heart seemed to shatter into a thousand pieces in my chest. The broken shards punctured my lungs, making it impossible to breathe. I swallowed hard, the fragments of my heart dusting my toes.
“Oh . . .” I tried to play it off like it didn’t matter that I was just another bee in his swarm of girls. Every interaction we had shared changed in my mind, now seeming less significant.
Turning a little unsteadily, pretending to get a closer look at the orange trees, I grabbed onto a branch for support from the emotional below the belt blow, peeling off a piece of loose bark. I rested my head against the tree and inhaled the citrusy scent of the blossoms. I rubbed the rough bark between my fingers absentmindedly. A chipmunk scampered along the ground further into the groves and I wanted to join him in his retreat. The life of a chipmunk suddenly seemed oddly enticing.
“Are you okay?” Brent asked, circling around so he could see me.
I forced a bright smile on my face. “Yep.”
“About what he said . . .” Brent started, looking into the groves.
“Nothing I didn’t already guess.” I laughed, pulling a leaf off the tree and twirling it between my fingers.
“Oh,” Brent said, hurt clouding his eyes, turning then more amber then brown.
An uncomfortable silence separated us as solidly as a brick wall.
“So about my plan . . .” I started.
“There is no plan. Let’s get this straight, Yara. I. Forbid. You. To. Do. Anything.” Fury blazed in Brent’s eyes and I almost cowered at its intensity. “Promise me.”
As grade school as it may have been, I crossed my fingers behind my back and promised, “I won’t do anything dangerous or stupid.”
****
That evening when Cherie walked into our room I almost pounced on her. “Come on, we’re hiking to the nearest bus stop, we’re going to town.”
“Sounds fun,” she responded with a smile. “Why?”
I cast a nervous look around our room. “Can’t talk to you about it here.”
Cherie was a far more trusting soul than I was and she simply shrugged, grabbed her wallet, and strolled into the hallway, telling me to lead the way. We cut through the groves, shaving off a half-mile, until we found the nearest bus stop. Cherie had this escape route drawn up before we ever stepped onto campus in the fall. I didn’t tell her anything until we were sitting in front of the old world inspired fountain by the movie theater at the outdoor mall, drinking our fruit smoothies.
“So I got my memory back today,” I confessed, gnawing on the end of my straw.
She wheeled toward me, putting her smoothie down on the stone ledge. “It must be something major for you to tell me here,” she commented, her eyebrows arching.
I nodded, grasping the Styrofoam cup tightly. “Yeah.” I bit my lip, trying to figure out the best way to start, and decided just to dive right in. I confided in her about Brent’s ability to astral project, and then filled her in on everything∫from the party, to my death, coming back to life and concluded with my conversation with Brent today. By the time I had finished, Cherie had kicked off her shoes and was lying face up on the lip of the fountain, her hands tucked in the small of her back, her ankles crossed, and her mouth gaping open.
“I can’t wrap my mind around this. You died?” She questioned numbly.
“Yeah, but you saved me. I’ve always loved your perfume.” I sat with my legs crossed, making sure my skirt hung over my knees.
“Brent’s dead? Someone else is walking around in his body?” Cherie shuddered. “I can’t even stand letting people borrow my socks.” Cherie was silent for a minute, letting everything digest.
“So they can’t get us here . . . off campus.” I shook my head. “You think that he’s collecting souls or whatever so he can be strong enough to leave?”
I lifted my shoulders. “That’s my best guess.”
“So what’s your plan?” She asked.
“I’m not exactly sure.”
“Well, I have some ideas.” She pulled her hands out from under the small of her back and angled her head so she could observe the people milling around the various stores. “We need to get some of that licorice stuff. I’m guessing it’s not like the candy we get from the store?”
“The stuff Thomas gave me was a purple powder. It probably has some other stuff mixed in.” The pounding of the fountain filled in the calculated silence we had both fallen into. “I can probably get what we need from my sister. And Vovó would know where to get a recipe.”
The door of the ice-cream store swung open, letting out the sound of the happy jingle its employees sang each time they received a tip. Some girls from our old school walked out, carrying their frozen treats. Cherie turned her head and I let my hair veil my face, both of us hiding from our former peers. I wasn’t up to making small talk with people I didn’t really care about.
“Yeah,” Cherie continued once the girls had passed. “Call in the reinforcements; we’re seriously outclassed right now. Too bad we can’t get Brent’s help, since he’s determined to keep you safe. No worries though. We can work around him.” Cherie was always good at making plans and I could see the gleam in her eye letting me know she had already started to formulate one. “You’ll have to call your sister from here so we can talk without being overheard. We can use the computers at the coffee place to email your grandma. Why is she in another country right now?” Cherie asked rhetorically with a sigh. “Let’s go visit our old friends over there and see if we can use their phones.” She gave a little wave to the girls. “By the way, I think this week Steve and I are going to have a huge fight.”
****
“Fine!” Cherie yelled at Steve the following week. Classes had just let out for the day and the halls were emptying into the quad as students made their way home. Cherie stood directly in the flow of traffic.
“You’re making a scene,” Steve fumed, motioning toward the crowd surrounding them. He reached out and grabbed her elbow. “Let’s go talk about this someplace else.”
Cherie ripped her arm from his grasp and stuck her chin in the air. “I don’t care who sees this. Let everyone know. It’ll save the gossips some work. We. Are. Over.” Cherie turne
d abruptly and stalked across the quad toward me at our prearranged meeting place. I draped my arm around her shoulder, leading her back to our room.
“I think that was one of my best performances ever.” She giggled once our door swung shut.
“How did you get Steve to agree to that?”
Cherie waggled her eyebrows. “I can be persuasive.”
“No details,” I said, covering my ears.
“I told him the truth,” Cherie said, throwing herself dramatically on her bed.
“You told him?”
Cherie nodded, burrowing her head into her goosedown pillow. “Of course.”
“He believed you?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
“Because . . . most people simply wouldn’t,” I said, reaching over and flicking my desk lamp on.
“He’s known something was off with Brent. They have been best friends for a long time. And Steve is refreshingly open-minded.” She hefted herself up, reaching onto her chest of drawers and grabbing a piece of gum, folding it into her mouth. “Don’t worry, I took him off campus to fill him in on the plan.” Cherie blew her gum into a bubble that popped, adhering itself to her face. “How did your tutoring go?”
I had met with Dallin twice so far and found that I really liked him. We didn’t get much tutoring done as we kept getting sidetracked with conversation. “Good,” I said. “He’s really nice. He’s horrible at calculus, though. It’s going to take a lot work to get him caught up.”
Cherie picked the gum off her chin and opened her mouth, presumably to ask another question but was interrupted by the phone ringing. She picked it up on the first ring.
“Steve, you were perfect,” she gushed into the receiver. “No, you’re not allowed to ask someone else to the dance.” She laughed. “I can’t believe she already asked you. What a relationship vulture!” Cherie didn’t seem the least bit threatened by her competitor for Steve’s affections. “Yeah, now you have to go hang out with Brent. Yeah, start tonight.”
I tuned out their conversation, hoisting my books out of my backpack. It had been a strenuous week of letting a suspicious Thomas know I had accepted an offer from Dallin to the homecoming dance, and avoiding Brent because I couldn’t lie to him very well, trying to practice my telekinetic moves on the sly, and also meeting with my sister. She had provided the materials we needed, as well as instructions from Vovó. My whole family was overjoyed that I had accepted my Wakerness, feeling confident that I could handle this. I may have fudged a few of the more worrisome details in order to give them that impression.
With a silent groan, I started on my homework. I had a handwritten rough draft of an essay on The Catcher in the Rye when our window slid open, the curtains fluttering in the nippy air.
“Want to tell me what you’ve been up to?” Brent demanded, sitting on the window’s ledge.
My heart jumped somewhere near my tonsils. “Homework,” I answered turning away from him, pretending to still be studying.
“That requires you to leave campus?”
“Yep, needed some books from the public library for a research paper.”
“Cut the crap, Yara,” Brent said with an angry edge to his voice. “I know you’re up to something. I want to know what it is.”
“I’m not up to anything, Brent.”
“Ooh, is he here?” Cherie asked, rising to her knees. I inclined my head and Cherie’s smile grew. “Hey, Steve, can I call you back? Uh-huh . . . yeah, me too. Talk to you soon.”
Brent slapped his hand against his leg. “What did you tell her?”
“Don’t turn this into a thing, Brent. I told her everything.”
“Hey, I have a right to know,” Cherie argued in the direction I was looking. She casually dropped her pillow over the vials of mixed powder my sister had sent us that were currently littering her desk.
“You expect me to believe you told Cherie everything, you both left campus more than once, you’ve been avoiding me, she just staged a fight with Steve, and none of that means you’re up to something dangerous?”
“I think you’re imagining things,” I lied, tapping my pencil against my desk. I hadn’t counted on him being so sneaky, sly, or observant.
“What’s he imagining?” Cherie asked, blowing another bubble.
“He thinks we’re up to something.” I said, recounting his list of our suspicious behavior.
“Wow, major ego?” Cherie smacked her gum again. “I like pretend drama, I think it adds to the passion of relationships. And if you must know, we snuck off campus because . . . Yara needed a new sexy dress for her hot date this week.” I marveled at Cherie’s ability to lie on her feet and carry on a conversation with a ghost she couldn’t see.
Brent’s cheeks actually turned pink. “Oh . . . I should have figured that . . .”
“And she isn’t avoiding you she’s been keeping busy to keep Thomas from being suspicious. Well, and she’s been busy flirting with Dallin,” Cherie said, winking at me.
I wished myself invisible so I wouldn’t feel the harsh pressure of Brent’s eyes on me.
“So you’ve been busy flirting with a guy you just barely met instead of trying to help me?” Brent demanded, standing up, our curtains undulating in the sudden gusts of air his anger was causing.
“Yes, I’ve been doing exactly what I promised. I’m letting everything drop,” I said. Strands of my hair whipped against my cheeks and I pushed it off my face, glaring at Brent.
“So everything we went through meant nothing? You’re just going to leave me like this?” The ferocity of Brent’s gale made our door rattle on its hinges. His hands were clenched into tight fists by his side, his brown eyes darkening until they were almost black.
“Of course it meant something. I’m just keeping my promise to you, Brent,” I fibbed, the lie catching in my throat like extra chunky peanut butter. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Is everything okay in there?” A voice asked outside our room.
“Uh . . .” Cherie said, scrambling to open the door. “Yeah everything’s fine.”
“Yes,” Brent conceded, his strong breezes still blowing. One caught the door and it opened wide, slamming against the wall behind it. “I don’t want you in danger, but I didn’t think you’d give up so easily either.” Brent ducked his chin, but not before I saw the profound sadness swimming in his eyes.
“I didn’t give up easily, Brent.” I gathered my tangled hair in my hands. Our posters and pictures snapped and quivered in the gusts.
“Who are you talking to?” Debbie, from my social dance class asked, standing next to Cherie at the threshold of my room, her hair twirling around her.
“Do you mind? This is a private conversation,” I snapped, turning back to Brent.
A small smile etched his face.
“What’s so funny?”
He just shook his head, the air suddenly still, letting my hair rain down around my shoulders.
“She knows there’s no one there, right?” Debbie asked Cherie.
The words I had been forming died on my lips, I felt the blood retreat from my face and my head felt like an anvil had just been dropped on it. If this had happened a few months ago, shame would have been burning inside me. The fire in my gut now was a different kind of flame.
I spun toward Debbie, eyes blazing. “Of course there’s someone there.” I pointed directly at Brent. “He needs my help and you’re interfering. You can’t see him because he’s a ghost and you’re not a Waker.” Her mouth slacked open along with Brent’s and Cherie’s. I shooed her away with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Now run along and tell everyone about the crazy girl.” I turned back to Brent. “Oh, don’t think I’m done with you.”
Brent looked positively staggered and dropped back down to the window ledge. He tucked his chin to his chest, hiding his face from me. I lowered myself next to him, smoothing my skirt. Cherie was still trying to close the door on our visitor who was now peppering her with quest
ions.
“I really am glad you’re not getting more tangled up in this mess,” Brent admitted with a small voice. “I really don’t want you involved in it. I guess part of me was jealous.”
“That makes sense; I would be jealous if you were the one alive,” I said, crossing my ankles.
“That . . . that isn’t exactly what I meant,” Brent said slowly.
“Oh. My. Stiletto. Heels. You did it!” Cherie sang, rushing over to me and grabbing me in her arms, pulling me up.
“What?” I asked stumbling over her feet.
“You just admitted to a near stranger that you could see ghosts.” Cherie beamed at me with a brilliant smile.
“Oh yeah. I guess I did.”
“Are you okay?” Cherie asked, taking my hands in hers. She gave me a searching glance that made me uneasy.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You were always so nervous about developing the Waker gene and even more afraid that people might find out.”
I cocked my head to the side trying to gauge my feelings. “I used to think that, didn’t I? Not anymore; I’m good.”
Cherie sat on her bed and tucked her legs under her. I plopped down beside her. “What does Brent think about it?”
I lifted my eyes toward him only to find he was gone. He had slipped out, and things were still strained between us. I only hoped someday he’d understand I hadn’t been going on without him at all; I’d just been trying to find a way to bring him with me.
“He’s gone.”
Cherie sighed. “Good, because we need to talk. Your announcement to our dorm will force us to move faster than we planned.” I nodded. “We have to do it tomorrow, before Thomas hears you’ve been seeing ghosts again.”
The next evening, Cherie and I were going after Thomas to get Brent’s body back and I knew he might kill me . . . again.
Chapter 17
The following afternoon, Cherie and I were in position. She was hiding behind a patch of neglected weeds just outside campus, while I was crouched against a large shrub that straddled the edge of the property. I was pressed against the prickly bush, hoping I was concealed. My hands were slick with sweat and I mentally reviewed the locations of the vials I had strategically hidden around campus. All of them had been laced with my grandma’s herbal concoction. Several test runs had confirmed that even as a spirit I could remove and replace the stoppers. I dried my palms on my jeans waiting for Steve to lure Thomas, still wearing Brent’s body, into our trap.
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