Prophecy Girl (11 page)

Read Prophecy Girl Online

Authors: Melanie Matthews

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

9

 

A Ghostly Visitation

 

 

 

While Bree spent forever in the bathroom, Corrine and Meg explained to Eva about the rotation of the showers. Bree always went first, whenever she wanted, then Meg, and finally Corrine. Now Eva was there, and since she was the newest mate, she would go last.

“But it really doesn’t matter,” Meg said. She and Corrine stood at Eva’s desk, about to go over its contents. “We usually take our showers at night anyway, so if you’re a morning person, then you can go first tomorrow.”

At the psychiatric hospital, the patients had taken showers in the morning, so that’s the way she was used to it.

“Morning is fine,” she said. “But who’ll wake us up?”

Again, at the hospital, she had been awakened by one of the nurses, usually Kate, who cared for her the most, but that’s if she wasn’t already awake, suffering from a vision. 

“We each have an alarm on our laptop, but only one is needed to go off. Mine is usually that one, because well, I’m a light sleeper, and I can get everyone up,” Corrine answered.

Next, Corrine proceeded to start up Eva’s laptop and showed her the alarm clock program. It was a neat little thing where the user set the time, and then it was displayed on the desktop in neon green digits against a black background. After that, Meg showed her all the software programs, along with internet access, and how to get around the restricted sites. 

Corrine went next, plugging Eva’s flash drive in the laptop’s USB port. “This is for your assignments, like papers and stuff. You can go to the library, print it out, and then hand it in to the professors.”

“That’s neat,” Eva said. 

She hadn’t seen or used a laptop in over a year and everything seemed so new.

“But you can’t use it to type up lecture notes,” Meg said, frowning. “The professors don’t like all that click-clacking,” she continued, mimicking typing in the air with her short fingers. “And surfing the web, of course.”

Corrine shook her head. “Yeah, but they don’t seem to mind our relentless groans, and shaking our worn-out wrists during two hour lectures.” 

“Two hours?”

She had been anxious to get back to school, but two hours? That was an eternity, especially if a student hated the class.

Corrine nodded sympathetically. “Here’s your schedule,” she said, pointing to a thick piece of paper on the desk. 

Eva had seen it earlier, but only paid scant attention to it, with hunky Lucas so close to her bed. 

“We’re all second years, so we’ll have classes together,” Meg said, happily grinning.

Eva nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “So we won’t be study buddies with Bree?” She gave a mock frown.

The water had finally shut off.

Corrine laughed. “Thank goodness!”

“We’ll also be with Liam and Finn, right?” 

Eva liked them, despite Finn breaking up with Corrine, and giving no explanation as to why.

“Correct,” Corrine answered, but then she frowned. “Oh, but that means you won’t be with Lucas, except for P.E.”

Not Devin, either, being third year.

Immediately, she thought of him, and how she wouldn’t be near him, except of course for P.E., where she had to wear a tight outfit, showing off every line and curve. Lucas would like it, she knew that, but for a reason she didn’t quite understand, she wanted Devin to like it too. She wanted him to love her in it. But first, she wanted him to not disappear the next time he saw her. 

Eva looked over her schedule. “When’s P.E?” Meg and Corrine looked with her. Before they could answer, she moaned, “Friday.”

It would be four more days until she could see him, except for meals in the cafeteria, and at the exchange of classes. But P.E. was for an hour—a whole hour of studying Devin.

Meg furrowed her brow. “You like P.E.?”

“Uh…yeah,” she lied. “I like to…get physical.”

Corrine giggled as if Eva had just said a dirty word.

Meg smiled, lightly jabbing Eva in her side. “Bet Lucas wouldn’t mind getting
physical
with you!” She winked, clicking her tongue.

Eva blushed. She didn’t doubt that he would, but she wasn’t ready to take that step…yet. She’d had her first kiss just before lunch. 

“Maybe,” she said, shrugging.

Meg waved her hand at Eva. “No maybe about it. He’s
so
cute! You’re
so
lucky!” Then the bouncy redhead’s mood changed and she frowned.

“What about you?” Eva asked her. “Any guys you’re interested in?”

Meg smirked. “Just about every one!”

Eva understood that. All the Leprechauns were attractive, but Lucas and Devin were far above them. Lucas: blond surfer hair, tan skin, blue-gray eyes, muscled chest, and charming smile. Devin: black glossy hair, sparkling emerald eyes, toned body, that aloof, mysterious demeanor, and a guitar-playing and singing talent to boot. They were both so great, but Lucas actually talked to her, better yet, he comforted her—pulled her away from her nightmarish omens, and was a hope she didn’t know existed. Devin wouldn’t even shake her hand. He just vanished as Leprechauns do. 

It was all very confusing, especially since she felt a strong affection for both of them, but a fiery, unexplainable passion for Devin.

The bathroom door finally opened with steam escaping out. Bree had changed into her pajamas—a pink silk tank and panties to match while keeping a white towel wrapped around her head. Eva didn’t want to stare at her, but Bree was the most gorgeous girl she had ever seen. But both the hot guys of the school dumped her. She assumed it was because of her personality—bitchy.

Bree settled down on her bed, and took out one of the many pink nail polishes from her box. “Shower’s free,” she said, painting her toenails. 

“Finally,” Meg said. “Did you leave us any hot water?”

Bree just shrugged.

Meg sighed, and then walked over to her dresser, opened the second drawer, and pulled out a long white nightshirt. 

“Oh!” Eva shouted.

Meg almost dropped her pajamas. “What?”
All three girls stared at her, confused. 

“I don’t think my mom packed any pajamas.”

She found her travel bag on her bed and rummaged through it. There were jeans, tops, panties, bras, socks, sneakers, and flip-flops, but no pajamas, unless she wore tops and jeans to bed, which would’ve been a tad uncomfortable.

“No worries,” Corrine said, smiling. 

She went over to her own dresser, opened the second drawer, and pulled out a set of pajamas. The T-shirt was midnight blue with a yellow smiley-faced crescent moon stitched on the front pocket; the matching pants had the same giddy moons up and down the legs.

“Ugh!” Bree breathed, halting her nail polish brush in the air above her toes. “Not those again! What are you? Eight?”

“What are you, a broken record?” Meg shot back at Bree. “You said the same thing all last year.”

Bree rolled her eyes. “Just making a point.”

Eva smiled, taking them from Corrine. “They’re cute. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, “and I have lots more, so don’t worry! You won’t have to sleep naked.”

By now, Meg was inside the bathroom. “If she does, don’t tell the boys. Especially Lucas. He’d fly over here so fast that when he landed, he’d fall on the floor!”

“Ugh!” Bree breathed again. “For one, no one here is sleeping naked. And two, do we have to mention Lucas? He’s my ex!”

“Well, he’s Eva’s boy-toy now,” Meg said. She stuck her tongue out at Bree, and then slammed the bathroom door.

After a few seconds, the shower started up.

“Holy hell, Bree!” Meg shouted from inside the bathroom. “This water is damn cold!”

Bree laughed. Eva hated Bree now more than ever. 

“Well, you can have him,” Bree said. She didn’t look at Eva, but continued to paint her toes. When she was finally done, she continued, “I’m through with that punk. Devin’s the only one for me.”

Eva had to clench her teeth to prevent her from using a long string of curses.

“We still think Colin stole your polish,” Corrine said.

When Bree didn’t answer, Corrine chose a pair of pajamas for herself covered in yellow suns that smiled. Bree finished painting her toes, and then she placed the nail polish back in her box. Next, she got up, and walked carefully to the window, trying not to ruin her paint job. The sun had already set, and the moon, crescent-shaped like Eva’s pajamas, was in bright view. Bree slammed the green curtains together.

She turned to Corrine, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t even mention that freak’s name. It was
Devin
,” she emphasized, “Devin wants
me
back, okay?”

Corrine just shrugged her shoulders, went over to her desk, and shut off her lava lamp. When Eva furrowed her brow at her, she explained, “Bree doesn’t like all that light while she sleeps.”

“That’s right.” Bree walked carefully back to her bed and lay on top of the covers. Next, she settled her laptop on her chest, and flew her fingers across the keys. After a few seconds, she looked at Eva, and declared, “No lights of any kind! I have to get my beauty sleep!” 

She turned back to her laptop and was lost in some website. Eva assumed it was a page named
The Success of Being a Bitch
or
Pink Nail Polish—the Greatest Invention Ever!

“When do we usually go to sleep?” Eva asked Corrine, desiring to get this day over with.

“Ten, but no one really enforces it.” She showed Eva her desktop clock that displayed the time as nine-thirty. 

“Good, well, I think I’ll just look over my schedule,” Eva said.

Corrine nodded. “I’m going to shoot my parents an email, tell them that I’m all right.” She smiled. “You know how parents can be.”

Eva smiled back. “Yeah.” 

Corrine sat back on her pillow, grabbed her laptop, and began typing away. 

Eva thought about her own parents, but what could she write? 

I’m a Banshee, cursed to see people die by a witch who lived long. I have a potential boyfriend, who by the way is a Leprechaun—that’s right, you heard correct. He’s a bit of a bad boy, who can transform into a black fog, vanish, and teleport—you know, usual stuff boys do. But that’s not the kicker: he can enter my mind. That’s supposed to be impossible. Also I can’t stop thinking about his best friend, another Leprechaun, who by the way can’t even stand to look at me. But I think he’s the best thing since sliced bread.

No! No! No!
She couldn’t write any of that. She had to lie, but not tonight. Tomorrow, she’d try to remember to write, or call them, and make up...something.

The constant click-clacking from Corrine and Bree’s laptops was driving Eva crazy, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Instead she sat at her desk, looking over her thick school books—Geometry, Biology, English Composition and Literature, World History, Art, and Spanish. The Spanish would be easy, being from Miami, and friends with Soledad Morales, descendant of Cuban exiles. Eva knew Spanish very well. It was a guaranteed A.

She looked over her schedule to see which books she had to take with her tomorrow, Monday, the first day of classes. From eight to ten, she had Geometry, and then from ten to twelve, she had Biology. However, after an hour lunch, they all had to attend a mandatory therapy session. The Banshees met in a separate room from the Leprechauns, with a series of rotating professors—female for the girls, and male for the boys—to help them with their…abilities.

Eva didn’t know how she felt about these therapy sessions, which didn’t have a definite end time, so they could last all day. From her time at the psychiatric hospital, she and the other patients would sit in a circle of chairs while Dr. Lang had a “chat” with them. Some of the statements from the other teenagers were downright scary and the rest were tragically sad, but she didn’t believe she belonged there. She really saw people die. She wasn’t hallucinating. Now she was at a place that accepted her, because there were others just like her—Banshees.

She still couldn’t wrap her head around the history of Banshees, Leprechauns, and everything else. It was like she was in a dream. She tugged at her long black hair to make sure she wasn’t off in La-La Land. It hurt and she knew everything was real. She smiled. Yes, it was real, and she had new friends who understood her, and a guy who maybe was in love with her—one who eased her sorrow. Life was…perfect. For now.

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