“Yes. I dreamed of the fire, but I also had a vision of the darkness.” She shivered and paled slightly before pointing to the jewelry again. “I want you to hand them out to everyone who’s close to you. I made some boy pieces too.”
I pulled the box close and inspected the contents again.
“This is cute,” I said, holding up what looked like a surfer necklace with a single large bead in the center and smaller ones worked into the knotted cord. I could see Brent wearing it. “I’m glad these will protect my friends but what about me? Isn’t there something I can do to keep this ghost away from me? I don’t want anything to do with her, and I certainly don’t want to be waiting around for her to reappear.”
Vovó rubbed her hand across her forehead, her shoulders slumping. “There is nothing you can do but wait. Fique tranquila.”
“Stay calm?”
She kissed the top of my head. “We’ll keep you safe and figure this out.”
“So should we prepare to banish her?” I asked, dropping the necklace back into the box. Banishing a ghost forced it to cross over. It wasn’t used often, only for spirits that were beyond any hope of finding peace and who used their anguish to torment the living. That definitely described Sophia. I wasn’t sure what awaited banished ghosts, but I knew it wasn’t anything good. Grandma had once told me about the cold, horrible, black shadows that came for the banished. It wasn’t something she had taught me how to do. She had some comic book theory of it being too much power and thought I wasn’t up to the responsibility yet.
“No, Yara, no,” Vovó said perching on the edge of my bed. “From what you told me, she doesn’t sound evil. Just lost and confused. Banishing isn’t something to take lightly. There needs to be no hope for the spirit.”
I gritted my teeth and did the best I could not to mutter a sarcastic retort. I personally felt like my flesh wounds were proof she was evil enough. Vovó stared at me, and I began to get squeamish under her heavy gaze.
“You need to accept your Waker abilities, Yara.”
“What do you mean? I have accepted them. I spent my entire summer training with you instead of hanging out with my friends.” I rose to my feet. I was horrified to feel tears building behind my eyes.
“I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this. I’ve been trying to accept how much my life has changed. I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment. I—” my words broke off in a sob. I twisted around so my back was to her and blinked away my tears.
Vovó came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. The smell of her orchid perfume gave added comfort to her embrace. “You are not a disappointment. You may have accepted being a Waker, but you haven’t embraced it yet. Not completely.”
I leaned back against her. “I’m doing the best that I can.”
“I know, my querida. But you’re not there yet. When you are truly a Waker you will do everything you can to help the spirits find peace, and not do just what is easy.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
I sniffled and dried my wet eyes on my pajama sleeve. “Don’t you care that I’m in danger here? This ghost is going to come back and she wants to hurt me. I can’t hide from her; she’s attached to me. Don’t you want to protect me?”
Vovó hugged me tighter. “More than anything. I’m sorry. I’m doing all I know to help you. But if this ghost has attached itself to you then there is nowhere to run. We have to face her.”
“We?”
“I’m going to help. You’re not alone.”
I suddenly felt much braver. “So what do I do?”
“Until she re-appears, there is nothing you can do.”
“I’m scared.”
Vovó released me. I spun toward her, missing the warmth of her arms. She pushed her glasses further up her nose. “Me too. But it will be okay. I won’t let her hurt you again.” She looked close to tears. She leaned in and hugged me tight before placing a kiss on my cheek.
For the first time in my life I felt like I might matter more to my grandmother than one of her ghosts, and I didn’t try to hold back my smile.
v
“Well, it’s going to be another exciting year here at Pendrell, isn’t it?” Cherie pulled the box of jewelry toward her across the breakfast table.
“Looks that way,” I said, picking at my scrambled eggs.
“Do you want my help passing these around?” Cherie played with the beads of a bracelet she had slipped around her wrist.
“That would be fantastic.”
“Good morning, ladies!” Steve called, as he sat his tray down at our table.
“Mmm, orange juice,” Cherie said, grabbing the glass off his tray and gulping it down.
“Hey, that’s freshly squeezed!”
“I’ll go get you a refill. I want another glass too,” Cherie said, jumping up just as Brent sat down, his tray loaded down with fried eggs, hash browns and ham.
Steve glanced over at Brent’s tray and a crease formed between his eyebrows. “You hate eggs.”
Brent shrugged. “Normally yeah, but today they just sounded good.” Brent reached across the table, grabbed the blueberry syrup, and poured it generously over his eggs.
“Dude,” Steve protested, his spoon halfway to his mouth. “That’s disgusting. Last time I checked, you hated syrup. And blueberries. What’s with the medley of nastiness?”
“It just sounded good,” Brent said with another shrug. He reached for the Tabasco sauce and poured it over his whole plate. My stomach wanted to heave and yet I couldn’t look away, positive he wasn’t really going to eat it. He cut off a portion of the eggs and took a bite.
He smiled as he chewed. “I’ve been missing out all these years.” He looked at Steve’s stunned expression. “What?” he asked around another mouthful. “Your taste buds change as you get older.”
“Yeah, I know, but how much did you age in your sleep? Just yesterday you were complaining about how awful eggs are.” Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Are you still you? Or has some evil spirit taken possession of your body again?”
“When we were freshmen, you said that Jenny O’Hare was the first girl you—”
“Shut up!” Steve interrupted. His face flushed pink as he shot a worried glance at me.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Cherie,” I said, trying to stifle a laugh.
“You wanted proof it was me.” Brent grinned and dipped a forkful of hash browns in his syrup.
Cherie joined us at the table, handing Steve his OJ. She looked around the table. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing!” Steve said, chugging down his juice.
“This is so good.” Brent crammed another bite in his mouth.
“Brent, are you pregnant?” Steve asked in mock seriousness as the three of us continued to stare.
“What? It’s good.” Brent held out a forkful to me. “Seriously! Do you want to try some?”
“No, thanks.”
The three of us soon lost our appetites watching Brent devour his meal. I took my tray to the conveyer belt and dumped it before returning to the table. Cherie was bent over the jewelry box, digging around for the pieces she wanted.
“I’m going to start handing these out.” She pulled out two of the surfer necklaces. “Here, put these on.”
She tossed them to Steve and Brent, who caught them and began inspecting them.
“Why?” Steve asked.
“Yara’s grandma thinks we should all wear them.” She shot the guys a warning look that told them not to argue.
“Okay.” Steve clasped his surfer necklace into place.
I had to give Vovó props for knowing American teen fashion enough to design stuff that even the guys didn’t mind wearing.
“I learned last year not to question your grandma. She’s always right! And if the great and powerful Vovó has spoken, then who am I to argue?” Brent slipped his over his head.
Brent finished the last of his double-dog-dare-worthy breakfast and bused his tray. We waved goodbye to
Cherie and Steve, and left the cafeteria. I dug a piece of gum out of my backpack and handed it to him, and he took it with an embarrassed grin.
“That bad, huh.”
“Eggs? Blueberry syrup? Tabasco sauce? Take the gum, Brent.”
He unwrapped it and folded the stick into his mouth. “You shouldn’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Ah, peppermint flavored.” Brent blew a bubble. “You know peppermint does for people who can project?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Brent. After months of me asking, you finally told me. It gives us fresh breath.”
We pushed through the glass door and into the bright morning light. It looked like a postcard. Puffy white clouds dotted the turquoise sky. The flowers edging the grass stood tall, their open petals still moist with dew glittering in the sun like expensive jewels. The flowers’ fragrant perfume mixed with the scent of freshly-mowed lawn. The sun whispered along my skin.
“Brent, promise me that you’ll wear that necklace all the time. Don’t ever take it off. Not even to shower.”
“Is there something you want to tell me?” Brent frowned. “Did Sophia come back? Did the guys who were following us—”
“No, nothing like that.” I scratched my head. “At least I don’t think so. Vovó and I both have had some dreams. I had a dream about a fire. There was a dead body in the dream, too. I’m not sure if it’s connected to a ghost. I don’t really see how it could be, but if it is, well. . . Just promise me you’ll wear the necklace. I don’t want to have to worry about your safety. I need to know that you’re taking this seriously.”
“Yara,” Brent said, pulling me into an embrace. “I thought I’d died last year when I got kicked out my body, remember? I have no desire to repeat that experience. Believe me, I’m taking this seriously.” I studied him for a moment before Brent smiled and touched the tip of my nose with his finger. “I promise.”
v
A week later, Brent and I had just finished our daily internship duties and were leaving the Alumni House for the day. Brent headed to cross country practice and I made a quick stop by the library before heading back to my dorm, looking forward to a quiet evening. It had been three weeks and I still hadn’t seen DJ again. I asked Lesley about him, but she didn’t seem to know who I was talking about.
I was on the stairs going up to our room when I ran into Cherie. She was wearing a sarong over her swimsuit and had a towel draped over her shoulder.
“Shouldn’t you be at cross country practice?” I asked.
“It got canceled. Brent, Steve and I are heading down to the pool. Want to come?”
“Um. . .” I fumbled furiously for a believable excuse.
Nothing came to mind.
I swallowed, suddenly feeling like I had a mouthful of oatmeal lodged in my throat. Pools. Pools were bad. In my head, I knew perfectly well that I would be safe. It was my emotions that were the problem. I was suffering from a case of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, but I didn’t want my irrational fear to cripple my social life.
“Sure.” My mouth went dry. “I’ll meet you there.”
Maybe if the retractable roof were open, the chlorine smell wouldn’t be so bad. The smell was almost as bad as the water. I always associated its chemical scent with Thomas. I would have to work on desensitizing myself to that.
I changed into my bathing suit. Then I took my time applying sunscreen, as if it were a suit of armor, protecting me from my personal demons. I drew a shaky breath and grabbed my towel and a magazine, then headed out the door to face my fears.
My courage remained high all the way across campus, but when I stood in front of the pool house, it failed. I couldn’t do this. I left the paved path and walked across the lawn, feeling the pokey blades of grass pressed into the soles of my feet. I could see my knees shaking in the building’s reflecting glass. I moved closer and peered through the glass walls until I spied Cherie, Brent and Steve lounging on chairs.
Brent’s head popped up, like he felt my eyes on him. He waved me over but I shook my head, fear rooting me to the spot. Brent gave me a puzzled glance and then walked out the door, heading towards me.
“Hey, what are you doing out here?”
He’d already been in the water. His hair was slicked back and water droplets clung to his muscled chest. The scent of chlorine attacked me, coating my taste buds and winding its way inside my lungs. Bile rose in my throat and my heart pounded against my ribs. I swallowed so I wouldn’t be sick and slunk a few steps away from Brent.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded and grasped for something to say. “I was just thinking about how many girls must have hit on you this summer.” I winced a little at how lame it sounded, but it had been the first thing I could think of.
“You were?” He didn’t sound convinced.
I nodded. “I wish I could have been one.”
Brent put his arm around me and walked me toward the pool house. Baby steps, I kept telling myself. If it got to be too much I could leave. “I would have made a fantastic groupie,” I continued, “sitting on my towel under your tower and fawning over the amazingly hot lifeguard.”
“Fawning over me,” Brent repeated with a full-on smirk. “That would’ve been nice.”
I laced our fingers together, turned to face him. My fear receded in the imaginary scenario, spending the summer with him at the beach. I started enjoying the idea. “I could have gotten you to give me mouth-to-mouth by pretending to drown.”
I blanched as soon as those stupid, thoughtless words left my mouth. The flirty glint in Brent’s eyes faded. I snatched my hand from his and started to move away. With a gentle touch he turned me toward him.
“I would have hated that particular fantasy, since I’ve already watched you drown.” Brent noticed my crestfallen expression and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. “The mouth-to-mouth would’ve been nice, though,” he whispered. “I can do that anytime you want; all you have to do is ask.”
He traced the contours of my cheek with the pad of his index finger before finally closing the distance between us, bringing his lips to mine. Then we were kissing and I forgot about chlorine and drowning and thoughtless words I shouldn’t have said. There was only Brent. He pulled away too soon for my taste.
“So did you fawn over any lifeguards in Brazil?” he asked, twisting a piece of my hair around his index finger.
“Oh you know, one or two.” I gnawed the inside of my cheek before admitting, “Actually, I didn’t get a chance to swim.”
He frowned at me, and I hastily lied, “I was too busy training.”
He didn’t believe me—his expression said as much. My shoulders curled in under his scrutiny. He often had the ability to sniff out my lies like a bloodhound on the hunt.
“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” he finally said.
“Yeah, sort of.” I paused. “And by sort of I mean utterly and completely.”
I chanced a glance up in his eyes, expecting to see some sort of twinkle that would let me know he had a joke he was waiting to spring on me. To my surprise, his face showed complete understanding.
“I would be too. Getting in the water was hard for me too. It was bad enough having to watch you drown; I can only imagine what it must have been like for you to experience it.”
“It’s bad. I mean, it was bad. But it’s over.” I took a deep breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay, maybe we can do this together,” Brent said, his voice full of understanding.
He took hold of my hand and walked slowly toward the open door. I could already smell the chlorine, the fumes sneaking up my nose. The chemical smell made my gorge rise. My heart bucked and my feet ground to a halt. Tears gathered behind my eyes. The itchy feeling from the lawn under my feet traveled up my legs, crawling all over my skin, but I knew it wasn’t the grass.
I couldn’t meet Brent’s eyes. “I can’t.”
?
??That’s alright.” He nodded, water dripping from his wet locks. “Let me get my stuff and we can get out of here. Sound good?”
“Thank you.” I squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Yara. It’s not a problem I—” His words cut off.
I glanced at Brent, or at least I meant to but my body was immobilized. Then I noticed the whole campus was hushed, no birds tweeting, no laughter coming from the pool house. It only took a second to understand that someone had projected. Just as that realization dawned on me a strong surge of electric static traveled through me, and a blue spark ignited before my eyes. My body was able to move again, I lifted my head and found Brent’s questioning glance.
“You felt that too right?” Brent asked.
“Yep.” I stepped closer to Brent and lowered my voice. “Someone just projected,”
His fingers hovered near his mouth, ready to be chewed. “That’s what I’m thinking.”
“But I thought no one else besides us could project.”
Brent lifted and dropped his shoulders. “That’s what I was led to believe.”
I pressed my towel closer to my chest. “So is this a good thing or a bad thing?”
Brent’s lips pursed as he raked his fingers through his hair. “I really don’t know.”
I didn’t either, but based on Pendrell’s previous surprises, I’d place my money on bad.
Chapter Seven
That night, studying alone in my room, I kept having to shake out my tingling hand. With every movement, my hand felt heavy, like Sophia’s spirit weighed it down. My mind conjured a mental image of Sophia attached to my wrist. It was enough to keep me up at night. It already had.
I was still staring at my horror-flick hand when Cherie came back to our room.
“Where have you been?” I asked. “Do you maybe want to sneak off campus for gourmet chocolates?”
She dumped her stack of books on her desk and collapsed into her chair. “I can’t.”
“Did you just turn down chocolate?”
She nodded and picked up a pencil from her desk, twirling it between her fingers. “I need to study. My parents are riding me hard. My GPA needs to be perfect to impress Stanford.”