Intrinsical (3 page)

I knew Cherie would believe me, but still I hesitated. Everything hinged on this choice, whether or not to admit I could see ghosts like
Vovó
. Names I’d heard her called still echoed in my ears: crazy, witch, insane. So did all the useless arguments I had used to defend her, until one day I finally stopped, realizing they never fixed anything.

In Brazil, her gift of seeing and talking to ghosts was accepted-appreciated, even. There, she was a respected woman, revered for her knowledge of herbs and spirit lore. But here in the United States, in my neighborhood, she had become a community joke. She stayed with us every summer and each time I had to endure the looks and insults slung at her. They didn’t bother her, but they bothered me. I didn’t want that to be my future.

I didn’t want to be an
Acordera
, a Waker, someone who could communicate with ghosts. All I wanted to be was a normal sixteen year old. My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands as I stared at the smudge of my handprint on the window’s glass, and realized

that I could never be that now.

Cherie looked at me for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“
No,” I admitted honestly. “Something really strange . . .” I trailed off, trying to decide if I wanted to reveal what had just happened. I still hadn’t even told her about the mist I had seen attack Brent. If I made this confession, everything would change; there would be no going back.

“
The weirdest thing . . .” I started again, but then my courage failed.

Cherie watched expectantly, waiting for me to finish the sentence I had left hanging there like a pair of long johns on a clothesline.

Finally, she tried to tactfully change the conversation. “Speaking of strange and weird, did you see our P.E. clothes? I’m thinking they might be the embodiment of the Pendrell Curse, like their entire purpose is to . . .”

I nodded, not really paying attention to her, concentrating instead on my own troubled thoughts.

“
Yara, are you listening to me?” I looked at Cherie and mumbled an apology, having missed most of what she had said. “I’m eager for a ghost hunt,” Cherie said. My stomach lurched. “I have some plans to get things rolling for tomorrow. Are you game?”

“
Aren’t I always?” I asked, trying to unclench my fists. Cherie had spent time over the years talking with my grandma and had picked up what she considered to be hot tips about finding out if a place was really haunted. It has always been fun to be part of her paranormal adventures, to get swept up in her enthusiasm, but now— well, everything was different.

“
You almost look scared,” Cherie said, noting the frown on my face.

I didn’t want to admit that I was.

****

While I blow-dried and curled my hair, Cherie headed for the shower. I flipped the radio on to a jazz station and let the silky tones flood the room. Humming and scat-singing along, I slid on my favorite pair of jeans and my plum-colored silk tank top, then topped it off with my new jean jacket. After clasping on the necklace my grandma had given me before I started school, I examined myself in the mirror and grinned.

When Cherie walked in, I was quick to change the music to a more neutral station. She grumbled under her breath about my lack of musical taste as she picked out her outfit. Once she was dressed, she spritzed herself with her favorite perfume, a mixture of rose and iris that she had worn since middle school. Cherie called it her signature scent. And truly it was. I swear, even from the grave I’d smell it and know it was her. After passing each other’s inspection, Cherie and I headed toward the dance.

Cherie did most of the talking as we walked, which was good, because I could barely pay enough attention to respond with the appropriate uh-huhs. Already on edge, I kept feeling like I was being watched, maybe even followed. There were no sounds of footsteps, no movement around me that didn’t belong, at least not that I could see. And yet the prickling on my neck made me paranoid. I kept checking over my shoulder and knew I wasn’t imagining the way the light bent and darkened on the path behind me.

The wind carried the smell of chlorine past me and I froze, grabbing Cherie’s hand for support. “Do you smell that?”

“
What?” Cherie asked, sniffing the air.

“
Chlorine?”

Cherie shook her head and I dropped her hand, not sure if I was relieved or worried.

The Victorian lamppost above poured light around us and I reached out my hand, letting my fingers bump across its ribbed post.

I tried to sound casual as I asked, “Do you feel like we’re being followed?”

She glanced behind her. “No. Do you?”

I resisted the urge to lie. “Yeah . . . maybe.”

“
I don’t see anything.” Cherie shifted her weight and began tapping her foot. “I know something’s up. What is it?”

“
Would you still be my friend if I turned into my grandma?” I bit my lip, not able to look at her. I tried to picture myself living like
Vovó
, walking through forests scouring for herbs, speaking with spirits no one else could see, delivering messages from beyond the grave. I shuddered.

Cherie’s eyes sparkled as she stepped closer to me. “What happened?”

Not ready to have this discussion, I backpedaled. “Nothing happened. I was just wondering.”

Cherie snorted. “I’m letting this slide for now. But I’m warning you, we are finishing this conversation.”

“
Okay,” I agreed, knowing I really didn’t have a choice.

* * * *

As we passed under a banner welcoming us to the Back to School Dance, a spinning globe of flashing colored lights drew our eyes upward to the ceiling covered with blue and white balloons.

“
Great turn out,” I yelled over the music as we pushed our way through the throngs of people.

“
I know,” Cherie said, practically shouting. She grabbed my hand and led me into the middle of the fray. A sort of frantic, contagious energy was pulsing from the dance floor and Cherie and I were swept up in it.

When the pace of the music slowed, I almost groaned in protest before heading to the back wall, or as I called it, “Loser Row.” But Cherie nudged me, and my head shot up, following her nod toward the entrance. Brent was weaving his way across the dance floor toward us. His brown eyes were focused on me and shining in what I hoped was anticipation.

“
Wanna dance?” He asked.

“
I guess you’ll do. All the cute guys are already taken,” I answered with a grin.

“
You wound me with your callousness,” he sighed dramatically, taking me in his arms.

“
I do have a black belt in demolishing overstuffed egos.”

He laughed as he tugged me closer, his hands firm on my waist.

I fought back a smile, my fingers playing with the hair curled at the base of his neck. “So how did you end up at Pendrell?”

“
Family school. Grandpa, my dad, my brother all went here.”

“
Any of your siblings at school now?”

Brent’s body was suddenly tense. “No, it’s just me now. Do you have any siblings?”

“
I have an older sister, Melanie, in college. And an older brother, Kevin, who died about two years ago.” I took a deep breath. “Although, technically, I’m now older than he ever was.”

I waited for the obligatory apology but Brent didn’t offer one. Instead he locked eyes with me and said, “That’s rough.” He sucked in some air. “I’ve been through that myself. It was my brother, Neal.”

Going through a tragedy leaves an impression on people’s souls. Once you’ve had a loss, you learn to deal with it and move on, but you carry that hurt with you always. Staring at Brent, I recognized his pain. It was so transparent, I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it before.

“
Want to talk about it?” I asked gently.

He smirked at me. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m a guy. We don’t do that.” My nose scrunched up in confusion. “We don’t discuss our feelings.”

“
That’s a relief; I don’t want to talk about it either.”

The corner of Brent’s lips curled into a smile that matched my own. We had stopped dancing, standing instead in each others arms in the middle of the dance floor, sharing each others heartache without words.

I didn’t dance with Brent again, but after the evening wound down, he found me standing with Cherie and Steve and walked us back to our dorm. Brent and I strolled along a few feet apart and I let my arms swing freely by my side in case he chose to reach out and grab my hand. He didn’t.

He cleared his throat. “Will you walk with me for a while?”

I nodded, chewing the inside of my cheek. He reached out and took hold of my elbow, leading me away from the dorms, across campus. He stopped by the cafeteria and charmed a peach for each of us out of the cleaning lady. We ate our fruit while we walked, lessening the need to talk. The sticky fruit juice clung to my fingers and I tried to lick it away while Brent navigated us through a grove of avocado trees into a well-manicured garden. In the middle of a square of lawn sat a white gazebo and an elegant fountain; flowers and shrubs lined the edges. A stone path wound its way through the grass. Strings of white lights strung from Victorian lampposts lit up the entire area, dispelling the darkness inside the ring of oak and avocado trees that lined the garden.

“
It’s beautiful.” I was stunned that such a location existed inside the wild of the groves.

“
You like it?” It was a rhetorical question, but I nodded anyway. “It’s the Headmaster’s Garden, where he entertains guests.”

“
And all Headmaster Farnsworth’s important guests hike through the grove?” I asked with a knowing grin.

“
No, the exit over there—” He pointed across from where we stood. “—leads to a private road that would take you to the guest quarters.”

“
Let me guess. We aren’t supposed to be here?”

He laughed a quiet but nervous laugh. “Uh . . . not exactly. But we should be okay.”

“
I wasn’t worried.”

Shyly he took hold of my hand, leading me toward the gazebo. We sat next to each other on the smooth wooden bench inside it, our fingers still intertwined. We each faced forward, but I was very aware of his strong presence beside me.

“
I wanted to thank you for yesterday.”

“
You’re welcome, but I didn’t really do anything,” I said, focusing on our hands, not daring to look at Brent.

“
But you did.”

I didn’t know how to respond and an awkward silence spread around us. My fingers fiddled with a button on my jacket as I searched for something to say.

He took a deep breath like he was about to make an important announcement when a rustling in the trees brought us both to our feet, spinning toward the sound. Squinting into the darkness, I thought I made out a shape in the shadows.

“
Anyone there?” Brent called, sliding his arm around my waist protectively, bringing me against his chest. We stood silently staring into the groves, but nothing was moving. It was as silent and still as a graveyard.

Brent seemed concerned when he turned toward me. “We’d better go back.” I nodded and we left, hand in hand. Glancing back, I saw a dark figure moving across the garden. I tried to convince myself I was only imagining the chlorinated smell that followed me home.

Chapter 3

The next morning at breakfast, after loading up our plates to their maximum capacity, Cherie and I sat down next to a large window that offered a hillside view of Corona, California, and it amazed me how beautiful it was from a distance. Pendrell’s campus was located off a small and winding road that cut through the fifteen or so acres of school-owned groves. The orange and avocado trees that covered the surrounding hills in dark green vegetation seemed to separate us from the rest of the world.

Cherie pulled out the schedule of events for the day. “We have the campus tour this morning.”

“
Should be thrilling.” My voice dripped with sarcasm like the syrup leaking from my pancakes.

“
I know. But before that, we can go on our ghosting expedition,” Cherie promised enthusiastically.

“
And how much trouble are we going to get in if we get caught?” I asked, fully aware that most of Cherie’s grand schemes included breaking at least a few rules.

Cherie paused before answering, a little too angelically, “Not too much.” Somehow I didn’t believe her. “After that we get our schedules, books, et cetera,” Cherie said between bites of a blueberry muffin. “Then we have an hour for lunch and some free time.

Free time
, I thought to myself with a smile. I considered a couple of ways I’d like to use my free time and my eyes wandered around the room searching for Brent. Not seeing him, I swallowed down my disappointment with another bite of pancake.