Page 17 of School Spirits
Ugh. So that’s why she was so pissed. “It was an accident,” I said for what felt like the millionth time that day, but Mom gave a frustrated sigh as she tossed her bag onto the hall table. “Damn it, Izzy, I told you, keeping a low profile is an essential part of every job.”
“I was trying!”
“And breaking someone’s arm by second period? That was your attempt attrying?”
“It was only a dislocated shoulder,” I muttered, sounding sullen even to my own ears. “And he was a jerk who purposely hurt this girl I think can help me with the ghost thing.”
Mom gave a frustrated sigh, but then what I had said dawned. “What does that mean?”
Briefly, I told her about the Paranormal Management Society and Romy. As soon as I said the words “teenage ghost hunters,” she sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Damn it. You know if there is a legitimate haunting happening here, they’ll probably end up making things worse. Those types of kids always do.”
“Yeah,” I said, going to sit next to her. “But it’s some-thing. If nothing else, maybe they’ll have information. Either about Mr. Snyder himself, or who could be haunting the school. Save me the hassle of going to the library.”
Mom looked up, and something very close to a smile flickered on her face. “So you’d actually go to a library instead of plugging everything into the Google?”
Now I smiled. “Mom, it’s justGoogle. And yeah, you always said books were the best for research. Even the Internet can’t know everything.”
“I know I said that; I’m just surprised you listened.”
“I do that sometimes,” I told her, and she reached out and patted my knee. Then, clearing her throat, she rose to her feet and headed for the door.
“Well, it’s a start,” she said, her voice slightly gruff. “Probably won’t lead to much, but better than nothing. Now, come on. I don’t like you spending too much time in here.”
Swallowing my disappointment, I stood up, too. I had always been proud of my mom. So she’d never bake cookies, or sew a Halloween costume, but she could fightmonsters. She was tough and smart, and maybe she didn’t read bedtime stories, but she had taught me to defend myself against the things that lurked under beds.
But in that moment, I didn’t want a smart, tough mother who kicked supernatural ass. I wanted to sit on the couch with her and tell her about my crappy day. And maybe about Dex, leaving out the possible magical powers part.
I wanted to tell her that I missed Finley, too.
Instead, I followed her out the door and said, “So, I…I guess I’ll go do homework now.”
“Right,” Mom said with a brusque nod. “And I’ll go, uh, clean up the kitchen. See you at six for dinner?”
“Sure,” I said, turning to jog up the stairs.
When I was halfway up, Mom called, “Izzy?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m…you’re doing good work,” she said haltingly. “Other than the dislocated shoulder.”
It wasn’t exactly “Oh, Izzy, I am so proud of you, and I was wrong to ever give you such lame job.”
But I’d take it.
CHAPTER 10
Isat up, confused. I was moving, and overhead, birds were chirping, and the scent of flowers was so heavy in the air, it made me feel a little light-headed. Sunlight sparkled on dark green water. When I threw up my hand to ward off the glare, I saw that once again, I was wearing a ton of rings that I had never owned.
Groaning, I sank back against silken pillows. “Why are we on a boat?”
At the other end of the little rowboat, Torin grinned at me, his long arms pulling the oars. “Thought a change of scenery might be nice.”
“You know what would be nice? Not having you invade my dreams with these”—I waved my hand—“whatever this is.”
“It’s an outing, Isolde. And quite a nice one, too.”
