Intrinsical (34 page)

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“
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 turned 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 questions.

“
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.

The air was still, no noise from insects or animals interrupted the twilight. Leaves clung to the trees, seeming almost afraid to fall and disturb the perfect silence. My ears strained to hear Brent’s and Steve’s voices through the quiet. Eventually, the tread of their walk echoed through the stillness, their conversation stabbing at the quiet. When their words floated to my ear, my throat constricted and my muscles coiled, ready to spring. I positioned myself to spy through the leaves.

“
She broke my heart, man,” Steve slurred, taking a swig from the bottle he carried. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, and if I hadn’t known Steve had only splashed the liquor on himself and was only pretending to be drinking it, I wouldn’t have guessed it now.

I had to force myself to breathe, reminding my body how it was done. With each breath, I worried I would be too loud and give myself away. My quads began to protest my squatting, burning from the tension. I repositioned myself to my knees, giving them a rest.

“
That stinks,” Thomas said, smirking at Steve’s heavy and clumsy footsteps.

“
I don’t need her, when I’ve got my bros, right?” Steve belched loudly and looked rather proud of himself. “Just look at what her slutty best friend did to you. She led you on this whole time and then agreed to go to the dance with that Dallin jerk.” Steve smacked his lips together. “Who needs ‘em? Am I right?” Steve asked. “She hurt you, man. Let my friend here help ease your pain.” Steve shoved his drink toward Brent.