“Maybe…” Rafe tilts his head to one side, eyes narrowing a little in thought. “Maybe whatever spell the Xers are using is actually a curse. So, then what we’re actually looking at isn’t healing, but curse breaking.”
I drop my fists. This theory is absolutely brilliant. Has someone else thought of it before? I don’t know a dang thing about curse breaking, at least not that I can remember, but it makes so much sense I’m a little ashamed I didn’t think of it first. Shaking out my fingers again, I reset and throw another punch.
“I’ll have to ask Kaz about it. Either I’ve been asking the wrong questions, or you’re a total genius.”
“I’d like to think the latter is true.” Rafe chuckles, and I poke his ribs with a knuckle. He jerks away from my attack, but I dance after him, jabbing his sides lightly until he tears up with laughter.
A grumbly grunt breaks through our antics. I don’t have to turn to know who’s glowering at us, but I do anyway, throwing him a bright smile. “Landon. Here to correct our form? I thought my style of attack was pretty effective.”
Landon crosses his arms. “I probably would be if you were actually practicing the move.”
“Come back around when it’s my turn,” Rafe says. “Because Billie doesn’t need any help, but I definitely will.”
I can’t help but grin at his adorable people-pleasing-conflict-diverting tendencies. A dark thought chases right along after this pleasant one, memories of the way his mom treated him. How much of this was his innate personality, and how much of it was abused into him? Is this why he’s such a good liar? Because for years he had to keep up a facade of positivity while he was dying inside due to his mother’s torment?
Melissa might be wrong about him being treated badly because he’s a shifter, but she might have a point about some of his actions being reactions. And in that sense, I am part of the problem. Rafe doesn’t have to take on all the burden of mediating conflict. That’s not fair.
Squeezing his shoulder, I soften the challenging smile I have aimed at Landon. “I’m sure you’ll do great. And you’re right, Landon, we shouldn’t be goofing off. That was my fault. We’ll get back to it.”
Landon’s scowl twitches a little, like it wants to give up and wave the white flag, but he solidifies it quickly and stalks off to correct some other poor soul. Pity the fool who breaks out of line and suffers under his wrath. Not everyone has the moral fiber I do to deal with that steely stare, though Yasmin looks like she might just have the brass to do it.
The second he pauses by her and Quinn — who she’s partnered with in all of our classes together — she glares right back at him. Relieving Quinn of the pad, Yasmin shoves it into Landon’s hands and, almost before he’s set up and steady, throws a punch so hard it knocks him back a foot or two. His eyes actually bug a little.
I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh and turn to Rafe. “Sorry I got us in trouble.”
“Totally worth it.” Rafe swallows and holds the pad up again.
His gaze slides out of focus. Every time I hit the vinyl, it takes a beat for him to set up again, almost like he’s on a delay. After a few more punches, I pause and wave a hand in front of his face.
“You okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Just had a horrible thought.”
I crack my knuckles with a thumb. “What?”
Rafe’s nostrils flare and he hugs the pad to his chest. “What if—” his voice cracks. “What if Paige was killed and got twisted and that’s why I can’t find her? What if that’s why I’m not being drawn to her?”
My throat tenses up and my stomach takes a dive. The thought really is horrible, one that brings tears to my eyes in such a rush, I have to take a few breaths before I can respond. I sniff, then clear my throat.
“That’s a terrifying possibility. But...all the more reason to look for a cure, right?” My smile fails badly.
Red flushes the bottoms of Rafe’s cheeks and he drops his gaze. Tension runs along his jaw so the tendons stand out. I’m torn between running out of the room to get away from the intensity of his pain and trying to hug it out of him. Neither will necessarily be effective.
So, I take a breath and squeeze both of his shoulders. “No matter what happens, I promise to help you in any way I can. I don’t care what everyone else says, I don’t believe there’s nothing we can do for the Twisted. But don’t assume anything before we know for sure.”
After class, Rafe goes to meet with one of the counselors, and I head for the dorms. Before I get very far, Landon catches up with me. “Hope you know what you’re doing.”
I lift my brows. “Generally I don’t, though I think I fake it pretty well. To what are you referring specifically?”
“You and Rafe. It’s stupid to try and start a relationship in the afterlife.”
I roll my eyes. “You mean like you and Erin?”
It’s a horrifically low blow, but his antagonism is really starting to get to me. Landon grabs my forearm to pull me to a stop. I expect to see fury on his face, but instead, all I see is pain. If I felt guilty before, I feel even worse now.
He pulls in a breath. “That’s exactly why we’re having this conversation. Losing her was one of the worst things that’s ever happened to me. We both knew it would be hard when either one of us finished our unfinished business, but seeing her get twisted…” Landon winces.
“I’m not going to let him get twisted.” My voice shakes with this weak rebuttal.
Now Landon rolls his eyes. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. But even if you do manage to protect him, what happens when one of you gets ready to pass on? What if one of you finishes everything before the other? I might be wrong, but since Rafe’s been dead longer than you have, my guess is he’ll be ready to pass on first. What happens then?”
I glare. “Well then he’ll pass on. Our being together won’t change that.” But my throat tightens around these words as I slowly start to understand what he means.
“You know it won’t be that simple.” Landon frowns. “If you’re still around, he might want to stay for you.”
“Would that be so insufferably horrible?”
“Could you be any more insufferably selfish?”
I want to defend myself, but I know he’s right, and when he speaks again it only solidifies this realization.
“Ghosts who stay when they’re not meant to become restless, exhausted. I’ve seen it happen and it’s not pretty. Nothing like the Twisted, but bad. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Kaz, or Mr. Qureshi, or any of the Healers. They’ll tell you.”
I swallow past the ball in my throat as my mind races. If Rafe never passes on he’ll never find rest. And if we stay together...I pull my arm out of Landon’s hand and run for the stairs of the girls’ dorms.
In the middle of our research and training and general drama, a wave of “graduations” rushes over Locklear. I have no idea what to expect. Though if Haya’s excitement is any indicator, it’s going to be amazing. She wakes me up at stupid o’clock — a.k.a. before the sun is up — bouncing like she’s on springs.
“Get up, get up, get up!” Haya claps. “You’re going to miss the best day of the year.”
She’s already dressed in a level of formal that exhausts me so much I consider staying under the covers. In fact, I even pull them over my head with the most dramatic moan in the history of moans.
“Aren’t ghosts only supposed to go out at night?”
Haya giggles. “You ask this after almost a month of being here? I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Ha. Ha.”
Haya tugs on the sheets. I cling to them and let out a ridiculous fake hiss, but she’s way too fast, leaving me exposed to the cool of the room and her insistence that I get ready to, and I quote, “see the magic.”
“Fine.” I elongate the ‘i’, glare at Haya’s outfit, then attempt to emulate it while still lying on the bed. A black, pinstripe dress replaces my
pajamas and I grin. “Not too shabby.”
Haya clicks her tongue and extends a hand. “Gorgeous. Now come on, let’s go watch our friends pass on.”
She hooks an arm through mine and tugs me downstairs to the auditorium, a place I haven’t yet visited since coming to Locklear. It’s decorated all in gold leaves and vines and sparkling things that glow so bright I can’t quite figure out their shape. Haya and I settle into a set of empty chairs on the outside edge, a good angle to see the stage.
A trio of students I don’t recognize sits off to the side of the podium all wearing various and sundry clothes. One dude sports a pair of jeans and sweatshirt while the other wears football pads. The third is a girl draped in a beautiful blue sari. I guess those passing on are allowed to choose the clothes they move along in. For a moment I wonder what I would choose, but then tears fill my eyes and I shut off that train of thought fast.
It’s one thing to cry at a graduation, but totally another to ugly, snotty sob. Besides, the more I consider things, the more I question whether or not I want to move on at all. With the powers I’m slowly discovering, I might want to become a Ghost Guide like Kaz. After I find my body, I can think about it a little more clearly.
Rafe sinks into the chair next to me and that train’s back on the rails. What will he wear when he passes on? Obviously, there’s a possibility that he’ll choose to stick around the way Haya did, but what if he doesn’t? He deserves to heal, to rest in the peaceful beyond. It’s selfish to want him to stay, no matter how I feel about him, and no doubt the longer we entangle ourselves the more difficult it will be to say goodbye.
“Ready for this?” He asks, nudging me with an elbow.
“To be honest? I don’t really know what to expect, so I’m a little nervous.” My nerves hum with anticipation. “But also, super curious.”
“It’s a beautiful ceremony,” Haya says as Quinn and Yasmin take their seats next to us. “The spell will give you goosebumps. Even though it happens every semester it never fails to blow my mind. If only I could understand just how it works.”
All the quiet chatter in the room fades as Mr. Qureshi and a small group of other teachers take the stage. Our headmaster smiles, hands clasped behind his back. When silence finally falls, he takes a step forward.
“Welcome students and teachers. We’ve come to the time of year most anticipated by all at Locklear. This semester has been particularly trying with everything that has happened, and I would like for all of us to take a moment to pause and remember the students we lost.”
Mr. Qureshi bows his head. I stare up at the ceiling through tears, trying to cling to hope that Abby and Mark aren’t lost forever, that we can find a way to heal them. If I can communicate, then there has to be a way to make them right again.
“Now,” Mr. Qureshi says. “Will the students passing on today please stand and come to the front of the stage when your name is called. Apurva Shall.” The girl wearing the sari steps forward to shake Mr. Qureshi’s hand. “Ms. Shall not only completed her own unfinished business, but also assisted ten other students with theirs. She will be remembered by her father, mother, and three siblings in New York as well as everyone at Locklear.”
Everyone claps as she gives a little bow, then walks off to his right, smiling so wide it brightens her whole face.
“Andrew Battard.” The boy in football gear shakes Mr. Qureshi’s hand, tears in his eyes. “Mr. Battard saved the remains of his unfinished business partner on their trip to Ohio. He will be remembered by his mother and all of us at Locklear.”
“And finally, Josh Ealy. His attentiveness warned us of the Xer infiltration and protected the entire school. All of Locklear will remember him.”
I frowned. Not only the omission of his family, but the look on Kaz’s face. It came and went quickly, barely a flash of a feeling. How different would things have been if this kid hadn’t caught sight of him? Would Mr. Qureshi have had the opportunity to talk to Kaz? Would Locklear now be a mansion haunted by Twisted Ghosts? I shutter at the thought.
When Josh joins the others, Mr. Qureshi turns back to us. “If everyone would please stand in honor of those passing on.”
We all rise from our seats as Kaz, Mr. Clingler, and Ms. Troges step forward. Together they lift their hands toward the three students near the edge of the stage, then start to sing. At the mournful minor key, the tears in my eyes spill over, running down my cheeks and off the end of my chin. Rafe slides his arm around my shoulders and I lean into him.
All the gold lights in the room swirl toward the trio of graduates. Their forms glow and sparkle and each one of them lets out a sigh so heavy I almost feel the tension release from the room. They’re so bright I have to look away, and then, surrounded by what I can only describe as the sound of tinkling bells, they burst and dissipate like sparks from a fire.
Almost automatically, I reach out to try and catch one, but they fade quickly and I let out a little sob. Rafe pulls me in closer, his own eyes shining with tears. I know right then that I have to do everything in my power to give him the opportunity to be on that stage. Even if it means breaking up with him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Though the right thing to do would be to cool it with Rafe before we get in any deeper, I can’t bring myself to do it right away. Every time I open my mouth, I argue myself out of it. As I sit across from him at lunch, staring at his sweet face, Landon’s words loop through my head. A classic people pleaser, Rafe would definitely stay in this plane for someone he’d fallen for.
In the grand scheme of things, agonizing over the idea of a breakup feels small, silly even. We’re searching for our graves, fighting Xers, and attempting to keep our sanity. But this could possibly mean the difference between someone I care for finding peace or staying on this side as a restless ghost. Just because I’m feeling drawn to stay here doesn’t mean Rafe is.
I need to talk to him about it, but first I want to question Kaz. He has to know more than Landon. Sitting up a little straighter in my seat, I look around the dining hall at dinner that night to find our friendly neighborhood Ghost Guide sitting in his usual spot, alone.
“I’ll be right back.” I pop to my feet and trot over to Kaz’s table, plopping down in front of him. “Hey guy.”
Kaz nearly snorts up his soup. He coughs a little, wiping his mouth on a napkin. “Billie. What’s going on?”
“I have a question. Unless I’m interrupting your evening meditation or something.”
Kaz smirks. “Just finished with my daily affirmation. Shoot.”
Running a pointer finger along the scar on my upper lip, I lean forward a little. “Is it true that ghosts who’ve finished all their business and aren’t called to be Guides will get messed up if they stick around?” It’s not well put, but hopefully he’ll understand my meaning.
With a frown, Kaz crosses his arms and rocks back a little in his chair. “You mean like if a romantic partner chooses to stay behind when really they should be passing on.”
His eyes flick to Rafe and I nod. “Landon says it screws them up. But Landon says a lot of things, so I thought I’d ask someone who isn’t belligerent.”
Kaz smiles, but the corners of his eyes droop. “He can be that. Unfortunately, he’s also not totally wrong.”
I slump, fighting off a pout.
“People are meant to pass on in the same way we’re all meant to sleep,” Kaz says. “When ghosts who aren’t called to guide other ghosts stay on this plane, it’s a little like going for too long without sleep. They’re still themselves, just worn out, stretched thin. Some of them become bitter and depressed. Others get sick and can even slip into a coma like state. In very rare cases, some lose their sanity, developing conditions like schizophrenia. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I know you’re sick of people telling pretty lies to save your feelings.”
Blowing a raspberry to try and lift my own spirits, I force on a smile. “It’s not, but thanks for being honest.” I look
back at my table. “Sucks though.”
“You think you might be called to be a Ghost Guide?”
“Maybe.”
“Don’t make that decision on a maybe, Billie. Or, you know, before you get your memories back.”
Turning back to Kaz, I rest my chin in my palm. “Yeah, worry about one thing at a time, right? If either of us gets Twisted it won’t matter one way or another.” I wince. “Speaking of, are Rafe and I going to be sent to find his body any time soon? That seems like priority number one. Especially after those Xers found us near his house.”
“I’ll have to speak with Mr. Qureshi about that,” Kaz says. “After what happened, I know he’s nervous about sending the two of you back there. I’m planning to scout out Blacksburg today to see if I can’t get more information about the area, see whether or not there’s a heavy concentration of Xers there. If I can find where Rafe is buried, even better.”
“Can I come with you? I only had morning classes today.” I don’t know why I’m so eager to tag along, but I’m quite literally itching to get out of Locklear and do something productive.
It’s not because I don’t want to break up with Rafe for his own good. Nope. Not in the slightest.
“No, sorry. Not only do you not have the training, but there’s no way Mr. Qureshi would agree to that.”
“But you’re just going to scout things out, right? I think I can handle a fact-finding mission. Besides, the reason you’re not taking Rafe with you is because he can’t protect himself against the Xers. I can, so I won’t be a liability.” I clasp my hands together. “Please? I have to get out of here for a few hours.”
One of Kaz’ brows lifts and he rubs his jaw with a forefinger and thumb. Finally, he sighs. “I’ll talk to Mr. Qureshi. But don’t get your hopes up. Even though you can create shields and perform counterspells, you’re still a student and he might not go for it.”
I clap a little, then hop up again. “Thank you. Now I’ll leave you to your solitude. Unless, of course, you want to come join us.”
Ghost Academy: Book One Page 15
