Indelible (7 page)

“Yara?” Brent asked from across the room. I spun around, my heart almost stopping in terror.

“NO!” My hand covered my mouth. “You can’t be dead!”

He rushed forward, his hands on my shoulders to keep me from collapsing. “It’s okay. I’m projecting.”

Relief crashed over me so hard, my knees felt like they’d turned to Jell-O. I wobbled on my feet, feeling light headed. I glanced around the room. Paper hung suspended in the air, my family stood like wax statues, concern etched in their faces. That’s why I hadn’t been able to move, my body had been frozen when Brent projected. But since I could project, unlike my family, I was aware of what was happening.

“Brent, get back in your body! I know you’re scared and in pain but get back in there, now.”

“I’m not sure I can. I didn’t mean to project, it just happened. What’s going on?”

“You’re having an allergic reaction.”

“I don’t have any allergies.” Brent’s forehead wrinkled. “I mean, my family has some, but I’ve never had a problem with it before.”

“Can we talk about this later? The ambulance is on its way, but it’ll never get here as long as you’re projecting, creating a little time freezing bubble.”

“I know. Just give me a minute.” He concentrated hard and then reconnected his spirit and body. I did the same and time snapped back to normal. Cold shivers racked my whole body—the price I paid every time my spirit left. I winced at the renewed sound of Brent’s futile gasps.

My mom ran into the room with the cordless phone cradled under her ear and a bottle of antihistamine liquid in her hand.

“Here,” she said, handing it to Vovó, who held the whole bottle up to Brent’s mouth and tipped it past his lips. He coughed and sputtered as a couple of swallows of the syrup managed to make its way down his swollen throat. My tears ran down my cheeks before falling onto our entwined hands.

“You’re going to be okay. Just hang on, Brent,” I said as the sound of a siren filled the air. “They’re almost here.” Brent nodded and held my hand. I squeezed his fingers reassuringly, hoping my touch comforted him until the paramedics arrived and removed him from my care.

Chapter Four

My Dad and I followed close behind the ambulance all the way to the hospital. In the emergency room waiting area, we settled into the hard plastic chairs.

The large number of ghosts hanging around the hospital shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. I was glad the dead didn’t carry the wounds they died with. To a Waker like me, they looked pretty normal, aside from being dressed in the outdated clothes they wore at the time of their death—and yes, there are some very naked ghosts running around.

Several spirits milled around in hospital gowns, others stood in circles talking. One argued with the receptionist as she typed away and another yelled at a passing doctor that if he had listened to her, his patient would have survived. I hadn’t been to a hospital since my Waker abilities had fully developed, and I knew if I sat here long enough eventually the ghosts would sense my ability to see them.

I fingered the green bead clasped in my hand that Vovó had given me as the paramedics were loading Brent into their van.

“The spirits won’t notice you with this,” she had said. “I don’t usually approve, but tonight you need it.” I had nodded, not sure why she was giving it to me. Now I understood. The hospital had a lot of ghosts in residence.

The room had plenty of live people too, many of who were bleeding, coughing and sneezing. I tried not to share their air, afraid I would become infected with something. I picked up one of the old magazines that lay discarded on an empty chair and flipped through it while we waited, trying to keep my mind from worrying about Brent. Since we weren’t family, the receptionist refused to give us any information. His parents lived about fifty miles away in Laguna, and were on their way here. I had called them to let them know what had happened, or at least as much as I knew.

The drone of the TV playing in the background accompanied the steady stream of people coughing and phones ringing. An announcement played over the intercom but the message broke off mid-word, the phones stopped ringing abruptly, and the TV’s murmur died. My hand had been flipping the magazine page but halted mid-flip, and refused to move any further, paralyzed with the rest of my body. It only took a second to understand what had happened: Brent had projected. I let my mind relax, focusing on my spirit loosening itself from my flesh and bones, and projected.

The ghosts still milled around, only a few even aware enough of the living to notice something had happened. Interesting. Apparently, they weren’t affected by the time freeze either. I guessed that when I projected, I occupied the same plane as the ghosts. Fantastic. I had discovered yet another morbid tether to the dead, something else we shared.

The slamming open of the waiting room doors made me jump. Brent stormed out, a scowl on his face. He maneuvered around the frozen hospital staff and patients as he walked toward me.

“I hate hospitals.”

“Are you okay? Do they know what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine now. It was some sort of allergic reaction.”

“Are they releasing you soon?”

“No, not yet. They want to keep me for a few more hours to monitor me and make sure the meds worked. I’m hooked up to all these machines and I had to project or I was going to go postal. I need fresh air. ” I followed him as he stalked out of the building, the glass doors swinging open at a look from him.

Once outside, the air smelled like Corona: orange blossoms, the flavor factory in town that perfumed the town in a frosting scent, freshly cut grass, chrysanthemums, and the citrusy, musky smell of Brent, which never failed to wreak havoc on my pulse. While in our astral form, our senses were heightened. I inhaled the familiar scents of my hometown.

I stood beside him and tilted my head back to admire the canopy of stars in the blackened sky. They twinkled like expensive diamonds hidden in a blanket of coal. “The stars are amazing.”

“It’s amazing how easy it is to pick out the constellations when projecting. Did you know there’s one named Corona?” He paused and after I shook my head he explained, “It’s called Corona Borealis. According to Greek Mythology, it represents the crown given to Ariadne by Dionysus.”

“Did you learn that just to impress girls?”

“Did it work?” I could hear the grin in his voice.

“Maybe.” I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. Sure enough he wore a self-satisfied smile. Who knew my boyfriend had an inner astronomy buff lurking inside? “When did you get so into astronomy?”

“I . . . I’m not sure where I picked that up.” Brent looked puzzled, then shrugged. I studied the stars for a few more beats.

“I’d forgotten what projecting was like here,” I said. “It’s so different from how it was in Brazil. The air was more exotic there, but it wasn’t the same without you.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds. Brent smiled, the right corner of his mouth lifting, then tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “It wasn’t the same without you either.”

He leaned in and kissed me, his arms creeping up my shoulders until they were entwined behind my neck. While projecting, sensations were stronger too, more intense. My pulse thudded in my ears like a subwoofer—Brent’s lips were softer than velvet as they caressed my own. When we both pulled away, my lips were numb and tingling, my face flushed.

Brent cleared his throat. “Why are we here again?”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Because you had an allergy attack.”

Brent shook his head, awakening from a hormone daze. “Right.”

“So, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He took a deep breath and held it, his face pinched. “Really. The combination of EpiPen, oxygen and whatever was in the IV did the trick. My parents called the hospital. They’re on their way. I want them to meet you but not here like this. They sounded on edge. I think getting a call from the hospital made them think about Neal again. It’s going to be hard for them to see me here.”

I nodded, remembering Brent’s brother Neal had been killed by Thomas a few years ago.

Brent continued, “Besides, the staff won’t let you in, so you might as well go home. But, thanks for being here. It meant a lot.”

“There isn’t anything I can do?”

He shook his head and kissed the top of my head. “Just stay here with me for a while. I’m not ready to go back into my body yet.”

I leaned my head against his chest and we stared up into the sky. “That I can do.”

v

“So, Yara brings Brent home to meet her parents, and he ends up in the E.R.,” Cherie summarized to Audrey while we headed toward the administration building. It had been over a week since that day, but Cherie and Steve took every opportunity to share the story with anyone they saw. Audrey had been busy on the school activities committee, and had missed out on hearing the full version until now. The “Back to School” events had taken over her life and none of us had seen her for more than two minutes at a time until now.

“See, when you say it like that, it just sounds bad,” I said.

“I’ve already heard snippets of the story,” Audrey managed between giggles, “but it was nowhere near as funny as hearing Cherie tell it.”

“Which is amazing, considering she wasn’t even there,” I said.

Cherie waved away my playful jab. “I can’t help that I’m a good story teller.”

Once Audrey had stopped laughing she asked, “So, Brent has a peanut allergy?”

“Yep. It’s weird. He had a peanut butter sandwich the day before the attack and was fine.” I pulled my backpack higher on my shoulders. “Years ago, when they found out his brother was allergic, Brent got tested and it was negative.”

“Do allergies usually change that fast?” Audrey asked.

I shrugged.

“Then do they know what triggered it?”

I grimaced as I waited for Cherie’s punch line.

“My theory is, he was allergic to meeting Yara’s parents. Or her dad’s sword. The peanut thing is just a coincidence.”

“And there it is,” I said, wishing I had a quarter for every time I’d heard it.

Cherie came to a stop. “Look. The guys beat us here.”

Brent and Steve lounged on the steps of the administration building, waiting for us, so we could pick up our internship assignments as a group. Their backpacks were tossed next to them and they’d sprawled across the stairs, giving the impression that the stone steps were made of the softest feathers. The life-sized bronze statue of Christopher Pendrell, on a pedestal in the middle of the steps, cast a shadow over them. It had stood there since the school opened, except for the time it was being repaired from a senior prank gone wrong.

Remembering DJ’s story about the Pendrell family, I paid closer attention to the statue as we approached. Last year I’d never bothered to study his face, but sure enough, it matched the painting at the alumni house.

Audrey pushed up the sleeve of her uniform’s black sweater. “I can’t get over the fact you were attacked by a ghost at the internship party! Did you see Sophia again?” Cherie had told her about the ghost before jumping into the story about Brent’s allergy attack.

“No, Cherie and I took Vovó there last weekend, but we couldn’t find her. She was either hiding out or had already moved on. I’m hoping she passed over once she didn’t have to guard the compartment anymore.”

Audrey cast a look at my bruised wrist. “I hope so. She sounds awful.” She clutched her folder closer to her chest. “How about that guy, DJ?”

“No sign of him either.” I had to stop myself from grinding my teeth together when I thought about the wasted trip to the alumni house and the fruitless hours I’d spent scouring campus for DJ. His little mind game at the party had worked. I couldn’t stop thinking about those pictures and the message on the back. “I’ve checked out the school clubs. I’ve looked for him in the commons building and the cafeteria, everywhere. I’m not sure he goes to school here.”

“It’s disappointing,” Cherie said with a sigh. “A week ago we had a cryptic stranger, and a ghost. And now? Nothing. We’ve got no leads on the guy and the ghost has vanished.” She let out a huff of air that lifted her bangs off her forehead. She turned to Audrey as we reached the administration building. “Are you coming with us to pick up our internship assignments?”

“I already got mine this morning.” Audrey checked her watch. “I’m running late. See ya!” She hurried toward the cafeteria with a wave over her shoulder.

Cherie and I joined the boys on the steps, helped them to their feet, and headed toward the receptionist’s desk. A significant portion of my senior year would be dedicated to working at this internship, and I hated that my assignment was completely out of my hands. The alumni party was supposed to have given us the opportunity to meet people and secure an internship we liked. But between meeting DJ and escaping Sophia, my night hadn’t gone according to plan. Which meant I probably would end up with the internship no one else wanted.

A box of manila envelopes lay on the receptionist’s desk in alphabetical order. I flipped through the S section until I found my name. At this point, the most I hoped for was something that wouldn’t require me to drive in rush hour traffic and wasn’t mind-numbingly boring.

We stood in a circle clutching our envelopes.

“Are you ready?” Steve asked.

“Ready,” Cherie confirmed.

“One. Two . . . three!”

We each ripped into our envelopes, and the corner of mine sliced into my finger, the paper cut drawing blood. I hoped this wasn’t some sort of omen. I sucked on my finger and watched in silence as the others learned their fate.

Brent and Steve exchanged letters while Cherie read hers aloud.

“Yes! The Circle City Historical Society. Perfect. I can learn more about the ghost legends.” A smile spread across her face. “Maybe I can find out more about Sophia.”

I read mine, rubbed my eyes, and read it again, but the information didn’t change. The Pendrell Alumni House? It had to be a joke. I didn’t want to spend ten months of quality time with Sophia, who may or may have not moved on. My bruised wrist picked that moment to twinge and I rotated it, flexing my fingers. The bruise still hurt, throbbed really, and it hadn’t gotten any lighter. My whole hand felt heavy and my fingers tingled like they were falling asleep.