Intrinsical (2 page)

A flash of something I didn’t want to name pulsed through me, and I clenched my jaw as I turned away from Brent to start reading my magazine. I was soon lost in the trashy details of some actor’s life when a shadow appeared at the foot of my chair, blocking the sun.

I looked up into Brent’s eyes and my mouth suddenly went dry, my stomach tightened, and my brain turned to applesauce.

“
Hey there,” he said, drying his hair with a towel, being careful not to drip on me as he sat at the end of my chair. He flashed me an easy grin and ran his fingers through his hair leaving the tousled locks artfully disarrayed.

I smiled, closing my book and placing it in my lap while trying to ignore my racing pulse. “What’s up?”

“
Nothing really.” He paused before leaning close to me. “About yesterday, what you did.”

I bit my lip and felt my throat constrict. “Yeah?”

He scratched a spot on his neck and looked back toward Steve in the pool. “Never mind.”

Tension that had started to build inside me unwound and I breathed deeply. I reached out and grabbed a red candy. “Help yourself to the greens if you want.”

“
Thanks, they’re my favorite.” He popped a few into his mouth and chewed. An odd feeling of satisfaction swept over me knowing the greens weren’t going to waste. Brent folded his towel as he swallowed. “So, are you liking Pendrell so far?”

“
Yep. The student body is great.” It wasn’t until I had said the word “body’” that I realized my eyes had been studying his chest and I quickly looked away. He suppressed a chuckle, and I knew, mortified, that he had noticed.

Trying to make my voice not shake, I corrected, “I mean, everyone is so nice.” I nervously pushed my sunglasses high up on my nose. “How do you like it?” I asked back, trying to redirect the conversation to avoid any further humiliation.

“
I really enjoy the student body here as well,” he said while eyeing me. “It got a lot better looking this year.” I lowered my glasses and gave him the evil eye as I thought about his group of giggly admirers. “Why did you come here?”

“
I was considering going for a swim. I’ve heard the pool’s a great place for that.”

He sighed in exasperation. “No, why did you come to Pendrell?”

“
It was this or Brazil. Besides, Cherie really wanted to come.” My fingers began gathering my hair into a ponytail.

His eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Brazil?”

“
It’s where I was born. My dad was transferred to the States when I was really young, but now the company has called him back. My parents agreed that I could stay here and finish high

school.”

“
So how did you end up at a stuffy private school?”

“
I was dragged into it by Cherie. She really wanted to come here for, uh . . . personal reasons,” I edited carefully, “and since I’m a Legacy kid and could get in easily, she begged me to come with her.”

“
A Legacy kid, huh? So who was it?”

“
My great-great-grandfather taught here way back in the day. And my great-grandfather and my grandpa were students here.”

That was my official story, the one that was polished and edited enough not to invite questions that probed into areas that I really didn’t want to dig into.

“
Okay, so that’s your story, but why did Cherie want to come here so badly?”

I cringed internally and hoped it didn’t show. “She’s sort of a . . . history buff.”

“
History? Our history department really isn’t that strong. Wouldn’t she be better off at . . .” he trailed off as he noticed my cheeks flush. He looked confused for a moment and then I could almost see a few pieces of information click together in his head. “Wait a minute. She wouldn’t happen to be interested in the Pendrell Curse, would she?”

I tried not to deflate into my chair like a saggy, popped balloon. “She might have mentioned it.”

Brent made a sound that was a mixture of coughing and clearing his throat. “Are you serious?” The corners of his mouth drooped slightly. “
You
don’t believe the stories about ghosts and curses, do you?”

The black mist from yesterday flashed in my mind. I swallowed before answering, choosing my words carefully. “Of course I don’t believe in curses,” I said, with a hasty wave of my hand.

He brought his fingers to his mouth and started gnawing on one of his nails. His eyes narrowed, pupils hardening with a cold glint, and he dropped his hand in his lap. “So she’s not planning on investigating the curse, is she?”

“
Nope,” I lied with a gulp, my blood running cold. “Do people do that a lot around here or something?”

“
Yes.” He paused for a second and I thought I heard his teeth grinding.

Brent looked away, leaning back from me and shaking his head, lips pursed. The conversation stalled and a series of possible questions ran through my mind. I asked the first fully formed one I could grasp. “So, have you been training to be a lifeguard long?”

Brent’s eyes found mine again. “It’s my first year, but I’ve always loved the water.”

“
Me, too, usually.” I stopped short of explaining that my recurring nightmare had recently made me wary of water.

A wicked smile spread across his face. “Well then, let’s get you in!” He scooped me up, letting my disguised magazine clunk onto the wet cement.

“
Put me down!” He only held me tighter. My heart thudded in my chest, and it wasn’t just the fear of being tossed in. He ran to the edge of the pool and with a glint in his eye, cannon balled us both into the water.

We were a tangle of arms and legs, trying to find the surface. My eyes opened and widened when nothing in the pool was what I had expected. The water that had appeared so clear and blue from the surface was shadowy and dark. Suddenly it felt like the water was crushing in on me, pushing me down. I couldn’t see Brent; I was alone and I was stuck, sinking. In a panic, my limbs struggled to propel me to the surface as my lungs burned inside my chest, threatening to burst.

It didn’t make a difference. I had almost given up hope when I felt strong hands grab me under my arms. I opened my eyes and saw Brent next to me, the water now bright and clear again. My frantic swimming strokes subsided as he pulled me to the surface, where I took in a huge breath of air.

“
You looked like you freaked out there for a second. Are you okay?” Brent asked, concerned.

Still panting for air, I nodded. Carefully, as if helping a child, he lifted me to the safety of the ladder and I pulled myself up and sat right on the edge of the pool with my feet dangling in. I was trembling soul deep, shaken by my underwater experience; it reminded me starkly of my nightmare. Gripping the edge of the pool, I hung my head and breathed deeply, fighting to stave off the panic that threatened to resurface at this realization.

“
I should apologize but I won’t because I’m not sorry in the least, Yara,” Brent admitted with a half-checked smirk as he treaded water in front of me.

“
I gathered that,” I said with a weak grin.

He smiled widely, making whatever anxiety I had completely vanish. I noticed Cherie watching me. She raised an eyebrow that wordlessly asked if I wanted her to come over. I shook my head slightly and she nodded in understanding. The truth was I now felt fine, only slightly foolish for overreacting. I was lost in my thoughts when Brent splashed me.

“
Hey! I wouldn’t push your luck.” I wagged my finger at him in warning.

“
What? You’re already drenched!”

“
It’s the principle of the matter.” I laughed, kicking my feet to splash his face.

“
Oh! Is that how we’re playing it?” With that he grabbed my leg and pulled me back in, dunking me under the water. I peeked into the depths of the pool to make sure my imagination wasn’t playing tricks on me again. It wasn’t; the sun dappled brightly through the clear water. Brent’s chiseled calves kicked in front of me and I playfully grabbed his ankle, pulling hard enough to submerge him as I resurfaced with an evil laugh. I was about to make my getaway when his strong hands caught my waist, sliding his arms around me and holding me tight. Part of me wanted to enjoy the warmth that flooded through my body by being in his embrace, but I didn’t want this to be too easy for him. Instead, I elbowed him softly enough not to hurt, but hard enough to surprise him, so I could make my escape.

“
Not so fast!” He reached for me and missed.

Then reality sounded through the air like a steam engine’s whistle as it pulls into the station— only in our case, it was the whistle being blown by Brent’s instructor. “Brent! Break’s over,” he called from the water’s edge.

“
Yes, sir.” He swam to the side and climbed up the ladder before asking, “See you tonight at the dance?”

I glanced at him over my shoulder with my best coquettish smile, and called, “Maybe.”

I didn’t get to notice his reaction or his reply because I submerged myself, totally overjoyed that he had brought up the dance. If I needed proof that Brent was into me, I now had it; that was definitely flirting.

When I resurfaced, Cherie and Steve were standing by our lounge chairs. I walked over to them, ringing out my wet sarong.

“
We’re going to go for a walk. Want to come?” Steve asked a bit too politely.

I didn’t want to feel like a third wheel, so I shook my head. “I think I’ll go home and shower. You guys have fun.”

I made my way to my dorm, while sweat mingled with the chlorinated water dripping from my body. Thoughts I had been trying to keep at bay while with Brent refused to shrink back to the recesses of my mind. First I had seen a cloud of mist trying to strangle someone, then the pool turned my reoccurring nightmare into a near reality. With both of those happening within twenty-four hours of my arrival, I was beginning to seriously question my decision to come here. Maybe I should have listened when my grandma tried to persuade me not to enroll at Pendrell. I had a feeling that the past I was trying to put behind me wasn’t going to go quietly.

Chapter 2

After a thorough scrubbing, I stepped out of the shower still sopping wet. I pulled my terrycloth robe around me and shuffled contentedly to my room. Cherie still wasn’t back. Though a mirror image, her side of the room couldn’t have been more different from mine. Discarded swimsuits and accessories were strewn across her unmade bed and makeup littered her desktop. Clothes hung out of the open drawers of her dresser, and her closet couldn’t quite close because of the pile of shoes in the way. Her walls were covered with posters of indie bands that I had only heard of because of her. My bed was tight enough to bounce a quarter off of it, my books and CDs arranged alphabetically, and my clothes organized by color. A corkboard with carefully arranged snapshots and reminder notes hung above my bed.

Drips of water puddled onto the cheap, tight-knit carpet as I combed out my tangled hair. The fading light of day tumbled through our lone window, diffusing our room with golden hues. Once my hair was snarl-free, I leaned on the small ledge of the window, watching a game of flag football below. Something moved behind me. I spun around, finding nothing; the room was perfectly still, like it was holding its breath. My eyes were drawn to the carpet near the door, where the individual water droplets from my hair were pooling together, forming a single unit, creating a recognizable shape. A footprint. A second, then a third footprint appeared, and only clamping my lips closed kept the shriek tunneling up my throat from escaping. Someone or something was walking across the room toward me.

The temperature in the room plummeted, and I pulled my robe tightly around me, my breath forming a frosty mist. That’s when the smell caught my attention. Chlorine. The room reeked of it so strongly my eyes watered, its chemical taste basting my tongue. I wiped the tears with my sweaty palms, swallowing shallowly.

My heart pounded a warning in my chest and the blood drained from my face as the room grew dimmer. Feeling unsteady on my feet, I took a step back and leaned against the window, pressing my bare hand against the glass. Its arctic cold almost burned my skin. The scream I had been repressing made its way out in the form of a whimper and I fell against my desk, my hand skidding across my jewelry box and pencil sharpener. The door swung open, and I twisted toward it just as Cherie floated into the room. She sat down on her bed with a dazed, dreamy look on her face.

I glanced at the carpet and found the floor dry and the footprints gone. The light had returned to normal, the chlorine smelled had vanished, and even my hand didn’t hurt anymore. Everything was completely normal. Everything but me. Pulling my robe even tighter around me, I dropped into my desk chair, my leg shaking.

I couldn’t deny it; that was definitely a spirit. My second encounter with a ghost. No one had warned me it would be so terrifying. I was on the verge of telling Cherie everything when my hand traced the scar above my left eye. I’d gotten it in second grade, courtesy of a rock thrown by a classmate who insisted
Vovó
, my grandma hadn’t seen his mother’s spirit. It had been the first in a long line of similar encounters, but it was the only one that had left a physical scar. As for emotional scars, there were too many to count.