Intrinsical (12 page)

Danger

“
What’s dangerous? Who’s in danger?” I whispered, clasping my fingers together, my shoulder slick against the moist glass.

Not Me

What did that mean? Was the ghost telling me I was in danger? Or was the ghost letting me know he wasn’t dangerous? I rubbed my head; maybe I needed to ask better questions. Before I could ask another one, the glass and the temperature instantly reverted to the way they had been. The pounding of feet on the floor behind me drew my eyes to a wet Brent who was hurrying over.

“
I thought you left,” he said stopping close to me, the dripping water creating a puddle at his feet.

“
I was going to.” I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder, still uneasy about having a conversation with a ghost. “I better get back. I’m behind on my Bio homework,” I explained, spinning to leave.

He reached out but pulled short of touching me, retracting his hand quickly, a strange gleam in his eye. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I gulped before answering. “I’m good.”

I flashed him a big smile as I retreated from the pool house.

****

On the way back to my dorm my thoughts were befuddled. I wished my Vovó wasn’t in another country; I could really use her guidance. I was starting to regret not having spent much time gleaning information from her the way Cherie had over the years. That’s when I realized that even though I didn’t have Vovó, I had Cherie and her surplus of knowledge, and not only would she believe me, she also knew Pendrell’s paranormal history.

When I burst into my room I found Cherie laying on her bed, her feet in the air, studying. She took one look at me and rose to her knees knowing I had something big to tell her.

Suddenly nervous, I gulped, dropping onto my bed before revealing my two ghosts theory. I brought her up to speed on everything: the mist, the footprints, the steamy bathroom, being followed, not being able to control my astral projection, and finally my conversation with the ghost. The only thing I held back was Brent’s ability to astral project; that was his secret, not mine. Cherie’s eyes grew wide taking in every detail, the rosy color in her cheeks fading.

“
Why didn’t you tell me all this earlier?”

Hanging my head in shame, I admitted, “I was afraid you wouldn’t believe me.”

Cherie’s voice was quiet. “Why would you think that?”

“
My whole life people thought Vovó was crazy. I know you wanted to believe in all of this . . . but wanting to believe and actually believing it are two different things.” I clutched my pillow to my chest as I asked the important question. “Do you believe me?”

“
Every single word.” Cherie reached out and ruffled my hair.

A breath I didn’t even know I was holding escaped.

“
You’re not just able to see ghosts . . .”

I cut her off. “I haven’t really seen ghosts, just fog like stuff. And it seems to come and go.”

Cherie gave me the evil eye. “You can see ghosts,” she reiterated. “And you can communicate with them, too.” The light of understanding twinkled in her eye. “You’re going to be a Waker, aren’t you? Just like your grandma. Your abilities are developing!”

I smoothed down the wrinkles on my bedspread thinking the moment that I had dreaded had come and it wasn’t nearly as bad as I had thought it would be. “Yeah. Apparently I am.”

Cherie’s eyes glistened with glee. “Frickin’ awesome!” She twisted a lock of her hair around her index finger. “So how are you handling this? It isn’t every day your worst fear becomes a reality.”

I sighed. “I know.” I averted my eyes to the corner of the room, noting the need to vacuum, allowing myself to really think before I responded. “I’m actually doing better than I expected.”

Cherie didn’t say anything but I could see her almost shaking with excitement.

I shook my head with a wry grin. “So what’s the plan? What do I do about the ghosts?”

“
I’m not sure.” She gave me a confident smile. “We’ll think of something. I promise.”

****

The following afternoon I found Cherie in our room, unpacking red candles from the huge box she had been storing in the back of her closet. A thick book was open on the floor next to her and she was crossing off items from a list as she gathered them. As soon as she saw me she dropped her list and grinned, patting the spot on the ground beside her.

“
I think we need to help you grow comfortable with your gift,” she stated unceremoniously.

I groaned as I sat down next to her and leaned against her bed. “And how do we do that?”

Cherie flipped the page on her book. “We have to desensitize you so you’re not freaked out by them anymore. Then when you see them you can just order them away or something.”

I stared for a moment in surprise. “You think I can do that?”

“
I hope so,” she said, turning back to her book. “I think your grandma said the stronger you get, the more control you have over your interactions with ghosts. She said at first she was nervous, but she made herself be around them. It helped strengthen her.”

“
So how do I do that?”

“
I’m throwing a formal dinner party for our closest friends tonight.”

“
That doesn’t sound too bad.” I wrapped my shoe lace around my finger. “How is that supposed to help?”

“
It’s not the party that’s helping, it’s the location. I’m having it in the old pool house.”

Fear washed through me. “Why there?”

“
It’s the most haunted place on campus. So if a ghost is trying to communicate with you, it would be the best place for that to happen.”

“
Maybe I should ease into it a little more.”

“
No, you have to learn how to deal with this and fast. What better way than surrounded by your friends? The ghost won’t try to hurt you if we’re all with you. What’s not to love— food, friends and a little training in your family business. It’s a win-win.”

“
And it’s formal because?”

Cherie pointed to a slinky black dress hanging in her closet. “It’s formal so I have an excuse to wear that in front of Steve. You’re going to come aren’t you?”

I bit my lip and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the uneasy twisting in my insides before I nodded. Cherie clapped her hands and squealed.

I didn’t know what to say, so I sat on my bed and watched as she began going through her mp3 player to create a playlist for the party.

“
I’m throwing your bad musical taste a bone; I put ‘Can’t Stop Dreaming of You’ on the list. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“
Someday my music will grow on you.”

She smiled as I helped her load up the black candelabras, whose dangling beads tinkled as I loaded them into several small boxes. The red candles followed and Cherie picked up the box, instructing me to come to the pool at exactly nine o’clock.

****

I was pretty much useless the rest of the evening while Cherie was gone, preparing for the party. I attempted to write my mom and dad an email, but had a hard time writing one that wasn’t boring yet still didn’t give details that might cause them to worry. After re-reading it, I knew I hadn’t done a good job and my mom would know something was wrong. As I hit send, I knew a concerned and nosey phone call was in my future.

At eight-thirty I dangled my small silver purse around my wrist, debating about taking it. I hated carrying purses, but it matched my dress so nicely, I felt obligated as a woman to carry it.

I walked down to the lobby where Brent was reclining in one of the leather chairs, flipping through a magazine from the coffee table, wearing a black suit and a blue shirt.

“
You look beautiful,” he said, setting down the magazine.

“
You clean up nice yourself.”

I spun for him, letting my sequined violet gown swish around my ankles while teetering in my four-inch heels. Brent stood up and appraised me with a wide appreciative grin that did nothing to help my balance.

“
Ready?” He asked walking toward the doors.

I followed mutely behind. Trying to control the nervous bounce house my stomach had become, my fingers reached to fidget with my grandmother’s necklace, but met with only my naked throat. The necklace was still on my dresser since it hadn’t matched my dress, and I felt oddly exposed without it dangling there. Brent noticed my fingers tapping my chest where the necklace should be and his eyebrows raised before he turned to open the glass doors.

He offered his arm, his shoulders stiff. When I took it, his posture relaxed and something flashed briefly in his eyes and was gone before I could interpret it. Together we walked into the chilly moonlit evening.

“
Here we go,” I whispered to Brent as we veered off into the restricted zones. He pulled out a flashlight and led me expertly toward the pool, a much wider and more direct route than Cherie and I had taken.

“
Done this once or twice, have you?”

He laughed. “Yeah, sneaking out to the pool is like a rite of passage at Pendrell.”

“
Good to know I’m fitting in so well.”

When we got to the tree that led to the window, Brent turned around and clasped his hands on my shoulders. “Do you really want to go to this party?”

“
Don’t you?” I asked, placing my hands over his.

He dropped his hands and ducked his head. “Truth be told, I’m not that eager to see Steve, and I hate this place. It makes me think of all that curse crap. Why did Cherie have to throw her party here?”

I hadn’t told him the real reason for the location and lied with a smile. “She thought it’d be fun.”

He cracked his knuckles and looked over his shoulder. “I’m not really sure why I came.”

He gave me a wan smile before starting up the tree. I followed, and then crawled through the window, which wasn’t easy in my formal dress. Brent took my hand and we walked together down the corridor that led to the pool.

When we entered the main room I stopped short, utterly transfixed by the way Cherie had fixed it up. She had swept and dusted and picked up the litter, leaving the area amazingly clean. Sandalwood, frankincense, and cinnamon were wafting around the room, and as I inhaled I actually felt myself relax. The soothing music Cherie had picked out was playing from somewhere in the room, adding to the calming atmosphere. I had expected the setup to be chintzy, but it wasn’t; it was beautiful.

The black candelabras with the red candlesticks were placed on tables in the four corners of the pool, giving the room more light than the moon did, and creating an almost romantic feel. She had placed a table with a white lace tablecloth in the middle of the pool. There were three white candles placed in ivory holders engraved with seashells in the center of the table, surrounded by plastic plates and cups, pitchers of water and several trays of food. Six chairs were arranged around the table, all but two of which were occupied. Cherie had found a ladder long enough to get us down and, more importantly, back up. As Brent and I climbed carefully down the ladder, I wished I had worn more practical shoes.

Cherie beamed as she watched me take in the room. “Do you like it?”

“
It’s amazing.” I gave her arm a squeeze.

“
Come and sit here, you two,” she said, motioning toward the two empty seats.

I exchanged hellos with Steve, Travis, and Audrey, all dressed in their formal wear, too. I tucked my purse under my chair before Brent took my hand and we slid into our seats. Brent’s cool fingers tickled my palm and I watched him trace circles along my wrist. His hand looked different and it only took a second to find the change.

“
Hey, your nails have grown out. Did you finally stop biting them?”

Brent held his hands out wiggling his fingers, before lacing them together and cracking his knuckles. “I think I broke the habit only to pick up a new one.”

Cherie turned down the music and stood excitedly at the head of the table. “Thank you for coming. I’m sorry I don’t have better food but it’s all I could find from the cafeteria.” She motioned toward the manicotti and the simple salad, before striking a match to light the candles.

As Cherie served herself and passed the dish along to Steve, something scurried across a corner of the room above our heads causing Audrey to jump. She swallowed hard as she craned her neck trying to peek over the edge of the pool.

“
Why are we having your party here?” Travis asked grabbing onto Audrey’s hand.

“
It’s the most haunted place around and I wanted to help Yara grow more comfortable being around the ghosts trying to communicate with her.”

I kicked her under the table but her smile didn’t dim.

Brent jerked slightly as he leaned over and whispered, “You’ve had a ghost trying to talk to you? For how long?”