Page 35 of School Spirits
“Mom,” Romy said, embarrassed.
I looked over at Romy, and felt guilt wash over me. I liked her, I did. But it wasn’t like I was being her friend just because she was a cool person. I was…using her.
What was it Mom has said?Remember, don’t get too close. These people are a means to an end.
That thought was still bothering me when Romy’s mom pulled up in our driveway, but I tried not to let it show. Instead, I put on my brightest voice, told Romy I’d see her tomorrow, thanked her mom for the ride, and went inside.
Mom was sitting at the kitchen table when I came in, one of those ancient books in front of her. She barely glanced up as I took the seat across from her. “How did it go?”
I shrugged. “Okay. I saw the ghost we’re dealing with, and let me tell you, she is one seriously unhappy chick.”
“Dangerous?” Mom asked, linking her fingers on top of her book.
“I can handle it,” I said automatically, even as I remembered just how full of rage Mary had been. I thought about asking Mom if she knew much about ghosts possessing people—if that had been what the whole pushing thing had been about—but decided against it. Mom needed to think I could do this on my own.
Because I could.
So before she could ask me anything else, I said, “I think I cemented my friendship with the ghost hunter kids, but…”
“But?” Mom prompted.
Sighing, I propped my chin in my hand. “I think I’m really bad at dating.”
Mom huffed out a laugh and turned her attention back to her book. “Is it awful that I’m kind of thrilled about that?”
I wanted to ask her more about it. Like, had it been wrong to sit with PMS? Was Adam being a jerk, or was that just teenage boys? I mean, sure, Dex didn’t seem like that, but hewasn’ta regular teenage boy, and…
“Did Finn ever date? When you guys had those longer jobs that took a few weeks. Was there ever, like, a guy or anything?”
Surprised, Mom looked up. “I…I honestly don’t know. She never mentioned anyone.”
If we found Finley—whenwe found her—I would ask her.
There were a couple of pens on the table, and I picked one up, poking at Mom’s book. “So this research. What is it about?”
Curling her fingers around the edges of the volume, Mom scooted it away, just the tiniest bit. “Nothing you need to worry about. Just something I’m looking into for Maya.”
She inhaled sharply through her nose, the same way Finn always did right after she told a lie. My chest tightened, and I fought the urge to yank the book back, to see for myself what Mom was so interested in. It had to be about Finley. But if it was, why wouldn’t she tell me, let me help her?
Because she’s afraid you’re going to screw it up,a voice hissed in my head.Because if you had just gone into the housewith Finley that night, she might still be here.
Blinking against a sudden stinging in my eyes, I just nodded. “Okay.”
The silence that hung over the table was threatening to turn awkward, so I cleared my throat and said, “You know, the only part of the Mary Evans things that doesn’t make sense to me is the frog and the Barbie.”
Mom rested her elbows on the book in front of her. “You’re right. There are plenty of stories about ghosts attacking people, but that level of physical manipulation…it would take a lot of energy. That’s not just wielding a weapon; that’s planning.”
I nodded, drumming my fingers on the table. “It seems kind of advanced for a ghost.”
“Advanced, yes, but not unheard of.”
Mom and I both jumped as Torin’s voice floated through the kitchen. I glanced around, wondering where he could be, and my eyes landed on the clock above the stove. It was framed in a beveled mirror, and even though all the little pieces of Torin were hard to make out, I could still see him in there.
“Torin, you know you’re supposed to keep to your mirror,” Mom said, getting up and heading for the clock. She lifted it off the wall, and Torin made an aggrieved sound.
I stood up from the table, leaning one hand against it. “Have you seen something like this before?”
Mom stopped, the mirrored clock held out from her body. I couldn’t see Torin’s face, but I heard him clearly when he answered, “Only once. My coven raised a particularly nasty ghost. On their own, spirits are usually harmless, but if they’ve been summoned forth by any type of magic, well. Completely different kettle of fish.”
