Intrinsical

  Although she spoke the truth, I gave her a nasty look as I sat up. “And then I remembered this advice I found in a book in the library. It said that when I was nervous I should take a deep breath and pretend I was dreaming, and it would help me get through it.”

  “So how did that make you leave your body?” She asked, her nail file pausing in her hands.

  “I don’t know how. I was panicking. It just happened. Anyway, and then when I did, I noticed that I sort of separated.” I continued to tell her everything that had happened, hoping she wouldn’t think I’d lost my mind.

  To my relief, she set down her emery board and leaned closer to me, her eyes dancing with anticipation. “What was it like?”

  “Everything around me slowed down, but my mind was so alert I felt like I was in fast forward. When I fully stepped out of myself, my body froze like an empty shell.”

  “So cool.” I could almost hear the internal gears of Cherie’s mind working. “Can you do it again?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered, more than a little nervous of trying it again. I didn’t feel it was my place to tell her about Brent being able to do it too, so I couldn’t explain his warnings.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  “I haven’t tried it yet. I did some research on it and found it could be dangerous,” I lied, wringing my hands together in my lap. I wanted more answers from Brent before I told her more. “Some article said that if you do it once you won’t be able to stop.”

  “Who says you’d want to? You need to embrace this, Yara. It’s part of who you are.”

  “I’m not sure I want this, Cherie. It’s too close to everything else I don’t want to be part of. I need some time to process it.”

  Cherie pressed her lips together but her eyes spoke volumes. She wasn’t done talking about it. Voices carried into our room from the hall outside and then grew faint as the girls walked by. A new song on the radio began, but still she said nothing. Finally she nodded. I’d bought myself a little time.

  ****

  I hadn’t told Cherie about my training session with Brent, so I slid out the window and onto the fire escape as quietly as possible when my alarm went off. I shivered in the chill air, trying to find constellations in the stars as I waited for Brent.

  I must have dozed off at some point because the next thing I knew the sun was peeking over the mountains behind the school. My body was stiff, sore, and freezing as I stood and stretched. A gentle gust of frigid air circled around me, tugging my hair away from my shoulders. Instead of moving on, the wind danced around me for almost a minute, like I was in the eye of a small storm. The breeze carried all the smells of Pendrell and a familiar scent that tugged at my memory. I tried to place it as I made my way back to my room. My bed was warm by comparison and I crawled into it drowsily. I drew up the blankets, wondering why Brent hadn’t shown up and if I should be angry or worried.

  By the time I got up, I had slept through first period, despite Cherie’s attempts to drag me out of bed. In an effort to not be even later, I considered skipping a shower, but one sniff of myself and I ruled that option out. So I gathered my bathroom bucket, robe, and striped towel on my way to the bathroom.

  After showering, I toweled off and wrapped myself in my robe. I emerged from the shower stall to find the whole bathroom deserted and full of steam. I hadn’t realized my shower had been so hot. The row of shiny sink faucets dripped with condensation. The blue and white floor tiles were dangerously slippery and I slid along the moist floor toward the fog-covered mirrors. I wiped my hand across one of them and peered at my hazy reflection. I looked like I had been up half the night. The image of me vanished behind a new layer of steam.

  The vapors of wet heat thickened, making it hard to breath and leaving me unable to see beyond my nose. I knew no one had come into the bathroom but I also knew someone was in there with me. Fear beaded into glistening sweat on my skin; my lungs seemed to wither, and I couldn’t take a decent breath. Through the dank air, I smelled the same almost musky scent from the fire escape, sending a tiny wave of comfort through my frayed nerves. Not enough to make me less scared, but enough to give me the clarity of mind to get out of the room. My hands in front of my face, I started to scoot my way to the door, when a sound akin to a squeegee on glass echoed through the vacant room. I wheeled toward it and almost lost the contents of my bladder when I saw words on the mirror, written through the steam.

  Do Not Trust Brent

  I read the words aloud and once spoken they vanished along with the steam and I was alone in the perfectly ordinary bathroom.

  Chapter 6

  “Brent, wait up,” I called, scrambling out of my chair after Language Arts. Somehow, I had been able to get myself to class after the bathroom experience. I kept trying to figure out why the ghost had written that, what it would gain by me not trusting Brent. I decided to ignore the warning, at least until Brent gave me reason to do otherwise.

  He stopped with an impatient tapping of his foot. “How may I help you?”

  “Thanks for standing me up last night,” I complained. “I probably caught a cold waiting for you.”

  “Oh . . . right. I forgot about our date,” he said slowly.

  “It wasn’t a date,” I corrected with a shy grin. “It was a training session, remember?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I got unexpectedly detained. Do you want to reschedule?”

  “I figured you would. You’re the one who thought it was so important I learn to control,” I leaned in close, “my astral projection.”

  Brent staggered back, looking stricken. “I was wrong. You don’t need training, you only need to avoid it.”

  My head cocked to the side, a feeling of unease sashaying through my stomach. “You said I couldn’t stop.”

  “I just wanted an excuse to spend more time with you,” he whispered huskily. Blood rushed to my face. He licked his lips and got a faraway look in his eye. “I did some research last night and it turns out you can suppress it with herbs.”

  I frowned even as he gave me the solution I wanted. “Oh. I have to admit that watching what you did made me want to learn more.”

  “Trust me, you want to leave this alone. It’s dangerous.” He stepped toward me with a savage glint in his eyes. I studied them for a second, as his gaze dropped to my necklace, a slight frown pulling at his mouth. Brent’s usually dark brown eyes were faintly edged in green, and with large flecks of jade I hadn’t noticed before, they almost looked as hazel as mine. The words I had dismissed on the mirror flashed in my mind like a neon sign. Reflexively, my hand lifted to my necklace, my fingers toying with the wooden flower.

  “Okay,” I said, shivering. “So what do I need to take?”

  He cracked his knuckles. “I’ll bring it by your room when I can find some. You’re in 222 right?’

  “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “I know all.” He laughed, starting down the hall.

  I stared after him, remembering the words on the mirror. Something about the conversation felt off and I wondered if I was starting to believe the ghost.

  ****

  That night as we were getting ready for bed, Cherie asked, “So, did you try to see if you could leave your body again?”

  I was proud of her. She had lasted a full twenty-four hours before bringing up the subject.

  “No, I haven’t.” Yesterday Brent had said that I had no choice anymore, that it was part of me now— but today he had said it was dangerous to try again. I wasn’t sure which bit of conflicting knowledge to believe. But all day I had felt this intense urge to try it once more before I started taking the purple taro root powder he had given me after school. It looked like the pictures I had found online, but I still didn’t know enough about it, and was hesitant to take it.

  “Yara, you need to explore this for me. This is the sort of thing that validates all the stuff I want to believe in,” Cherie explained desperately, perching on the edge of her bed. Tears had gat
hered in the corners of her eyes. “This is important to me. Try it again.” Then she mopped her tears with her shirt sleeve. “Or better yet, teach me how to do it, too, and I’ll come with you. Please, Yara.”

  I hesitated, considering. Cherie never understood why I didn’t fully embrace my ‘spiritual heritage’ as she called it. The hours and hours she had spent with my grandma had created this insatiable desire in her to try and become, in her words, what I already was. Even knowing all of that, my answer was no, and I was going to tell her so. But then I saw her eyes. They were wide, innocent, and artfully teary, twinkling with hope and all kinds of unspoken things to guilt me into agreeing.

  I sighed. I could never tell her no when she used that weapon on me. Would it really kill me to help her? Brent had said that it was bound to keep happening to me anyway, well before he had said it was dangerous and should be suppressed. If I tried it with someone else, maybe it wouldn’t seem so much like surrendering to an unwanted destiny— it would be something we could do together.

  “All right, fine. You win.” I threw up my hands in defeat. “That was a lowdown, dirty maneuver,” I couldn’t help but add.

  Cherie ignored me; she was grinning from ear to ear. “I wonder how far we’ll be able to go.”

  “I doubt we’ll even be able to get out of the room. It’s not like we can turn the doorknob.”

  “What if we had the door open?”

  I thought for a minute. “That might work, but there are lots of other doors to go through.” I bit my lip, contemplating alternatives. “Maybe if we had the window open, we could go down the fire escape.”

  Cherie’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea.” She ran over to the window and slid it open, letting the cool evening air blow into our room. “So how do we start?”

  “Beats me,” I said.

  Cherie had a few ideas. “How about if we sit in like some sort of meditative pose?” Cherie plopped down crosslegged and I sat down in like manner across from her, mimicking what I had done before, explaining it to her as I did. It was easier this time, as if my spirit knew what was coming and was anticipating the freedom it was about to experience. Energy exploded inside me as I separated.

  Leaping up I turned to look at myself. A moment of doubt broke through when I noticed my pale, lifeless skin; it was obvious that my body was vacant of the spirit that normally dwelt there.

  I look dead.

  A warning swam through me but I refused to listen because no matter how I appeared, my spirit had never felt more free or alive.

  Cherie would love this. Remembering my friend, I turned toward her.

  Cherie’s face was scrunched up in concentration. I wondered if I reached out and touched her, if maybe her spirit would join mine. My fingers gently touched her face. Her skin was hot and she didn’t feel completely solid— more like she was made of gelatin, rubbery almost, rippling under my touch.

  “Cherie,” I called, my voice soft and melodious, heavenly almost. I hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if she’d join me, but she didn’t. I wasn’t sure what to do. Am I brave enough to go further without her?

  After a brief moment, I knew my answer. I was.

  I turned toward the window, leaned against the pane, and found it solid. Would the same go for the fire-escape? I imagined my spirit spilling through the metal grate like water through a sieve. I tested it first, sitting on the ledge and pressing down with one foot. It felt secure, so I stepped outside and climbed down to the sidewalk below.

  The air itself was a complex tapestry of my surroundings and I could smell each thread. Fresh-cut roses, avocados, oranges, and from far away, blooming lilies. It was amazing, and I breathed in deeply, savoring it all.

  When I reached the grass, I spun around in a circle with my arms stretched wide. Each star in the sky twinkled brightly as if warmly greeting my liberated spirit. A slight breeze brought in a new bouquet of smell as it gently caressed me.

  The night felt like a blank canvas awaiting the first stroke, and I was the artist, picking the color from a near-infinite palate, able to go anywhere, see anyone, do anything. My personal tastes seemed to drift toward a pair of dreamy brown eyes, and my feet were soon heading toward Brent’s room.

  Since he could astral project, too, I thought spying on him might be fair, and I sprinted toward the boys’ dorm only slowing when I neared the fire escape. The entire journey had taken seconds, but I didn’t feel winded or tired.

  My plan had one hitch: I didn’t have any idea what room Brent was in. I started on the second floor, and feeling every bit the voyeur that I was, I peeked through the window, hoping the boys would be dressed. Two boys I didn’t know were both in the midst of studying at their desk, each frozen in time with a look of boredom on his face. I continued on to the next floor and peeked in through an open window. There sat Brent on his bed, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open. It appeared as if I had caught him mid-laugh. His head turned, his eyes glaring at me.

  “I told you not to do it again!” His face contorted with rage and for the smallest fraction of a second, his image blurred, looking like someone else all together. His gaze was filled with such loathing and anger that my exhilaration turned to all-consuming, breath-stealing fear. My heart, clear back in my dorm room, lurched in terror. I recoiled as my spirit was sucked back to my body and I was grateful for my escape.

  A crystal blue shimmer of light glittered at the foot of my bed for a second and a familiar smell perfumed the air. I squinted my eyes, trying to get a better look— when it vanished. I stared at the spot as if my sheer will alone would make it reappear.

  My mind felt slow, weighed down by unseen sandbags. My body sagged to the ground and I shivered violently from the cold that suddenly encompassed me. Cherie pushed to her knees in front of me, her eyes wide.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I-I’m s-so c-c-cold.” I stuttered. Cherie grabbed the green duvet off her bed and tucked the edges of it around me and then propped my pillow under my head. My teeth chattered and I hugged myself tightly for warmth.

  When the shivers finally slowed, Cherie asked, “Did it work?”

  I flinched. “Too loud.”

  She dropped her voice to a whisper and repeated her question so low I didn’t think I would have heard it normally. I managed a nod. The room seemed much brighter than it had before, and I squinted as I looked up at my friend. My eyes began to water and I snapped them closed.

  “Too bright?”

  I nodded again. Cherie hurried to turn the lights off and then returned. In the darkness I could see everything as if the light were still on. Four red dots stood out on her face, in the exact same spot that my fingers had touched her. “Did I hurt you?”

  “What?” Her voice was still too loud.

  “When I was out of my body, I touched your face, and it left a mark.”

  In a shot, Cherie was up examining her face in the mirror, leaning close to see in the dim light. She traced the marks my fingers had left behind. “You did this?”

  My voice still felt feeble. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  Cherie shook her head. “They don’t hurt. How cool!” I heard myself try to laugh, but I didn’t have the strength. Cherie’s excitement gave way to frustration. “Why wasn’t I able to do it?” She turned to me with questioning eyes.

  “I have no idea.” I could feel my warmth returning. The marks on Cherie’s face were beginning to fade, too.

  “Maybe I just need more practice.”

  “Maybe.”

  I sat up slowly, feeling more normal with every breath, although my room still had me on sensory overload.

  “So, tell me all that happened,” Cherie pleaded. I only got as far as where I touched her face before she interrupted me. “Why do you think my skin felt so flimsy to you?”

  I bit the inside of my cheek thinking. “Maybe because we were on different spiritual planes or something. I mean, I’m still alive and yet I was without my body.”

 
“So you think you still had substance because you weren’t dead?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Maybe. If I were dead I wouldn’t be able to touch you, I guess.”

  “This is so amazing.” She seemed to be digesting this new information. “How far did you get?” Her voice, seeping with curiosity, still hurt my ears.

  “Boys dorm.”

  “Did you see the guys?” Cherie giggled in an operatic octave. She saw me wince and cut her laugh short. “So what did you see?”

  In the safety of my room, hidden under a pile of blankets I felt stupid for having been so afraid. “I saw Brent, before I was pulled back to my body.”

  My feeling of stupidity didn’t last long as I remembered the look in his eyes when he saw me. I had seen Brent angry before, I had seen him mad, but I had never seen him like I had tonight. When he glared at me, his eyes seemed evil and dangerous. Just the memory of them gave me a chill that made my toes grow numb. After managing to crawl into bed, my eyes grew heavy and were soon unable to remain open despite Cherie’s continued talking. My thoughts were troubled as I drifted off to sleep. A pair of dangerous brown eyes haunted my dreams.

  ****

  “Hey, Yara,” Cherie said when she got back from her study date with Steve the following afternoon. I had woken up feeling lazy and had decided to stay in my room and study while Cherie had gone out. My homework was done, including my paper on “The Lady of Shallot,” and as a reward I was indulging in some frivolous reading.

  “Want to play hide and seek?”

  “Are we five?” I asked, not looking up from the magazine I had stolen from her care package.

  “Come on, it’s going to be fun.”

  “Our room doesn’t have too many hiding places.”

  “The cross-country team decided to play hide and seek in the avocado groves.” I could tell from her tone that her patience was running thin.

  I looked out the window at the dark, threatening clouds, and could see the tiny raindrops already falling. “Did you notice it’s raining?”