Page 45 of School Spirits
Instead, she whipped out a glossy issue ofRockin’Grrls!magazine, complete with articles like, “What His Dog Says About His Kissing Style!” and “Is It Wrong to Be in Love with Your Stepbrother?”
“Perfect,” I said.
Romy and I spent the rest of the bus ride readingRockin’Grrls!, and then I spent the walk to class telling her all aboutIvy Springs.
“So this Leslie chick works at a circus?” Romy asked as we slid into English.
“Not, like, all the time. Only since her mom married a trapeze artist.”
Romy stared at me. “Okay, I clearly need to see this show immediately. You said you own it?”
When I nodded, Romy pointed at me. “Then you are going to bring it to my house next week, and we’re going to watch all of it.”
“There are over sixty episodes,” I told her, raising my voice a little to be heard over the third bell.
“Make it next Friday, then. You can spend the night, and we’ll do a whole marathon.”
“Awesome,” I said, and was surprised to find that I really meant it. And not so that I could ask her more about Dex, or try to find out what she knew about supernatural stuff. Just because hanging out with Romy and watching Leslie and Everton fight/make out/break up/get engaged for a few days sounded like…fun. Lots of it, actually.
Mrs. Steele announced that we’d be doing group work this morning, so we all started moving our desks, forming little circles. Apparently we’d been paired up based on who sat closest to us, so in addition to Romy, our group included Adam.
Ugh.
I braced myself for the awkward, and Adam more than delivered. Barely looking at me, he opened his binder and leaned as far away as he could.
Another desk bumped mine, and I glanced up to see Beth, Ben McCrary’s girlfriend. I expected her to give me the cold shoulder, what with my dislocating herboyfriend’sshoulder, but she didn’t even seem to know who I was. In fact, as we got to work on the assignment—answering a series of discussion questions aboutMacbeth—Beth didn’t pay attention to any of us. Her eyes were far off, distracted, and when Romy asked her to copy down question four, Beth blinked at her like she wasn’t even speaking English.
“What?”
“Question four?” Romy repeated, lifting her eyebrows. “‘How does the supernatural influence Macbeth’s actions?’”
Beth just shook her head. “I…I don’t know.” She gave a little shiver and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. “And can we please skip the questions about the supernatural?”
Romy glanced at me. “That’s, like, half the questions.”
“Lotta ghosts inMacbeth,” I offered, tapping my pen against my paper. Beth looked me, huge dark circles under her eyes. She blinked twice before turning back to Romy.
“You do that ghost-hunting club, right?”
On my other side, Adam snorted but didn’t say anything. Romy flashed him a quick glare.
“Yeah,” she told Beth. “Why?”
Beth swallowed, her throat working convulsively. “Have you ever seen a ghost?”
Now Adam folded his arms, entire body radiating disdain, but neither Romy nor I paid him any attention.
“Not seen, exactly,” Romy said, her eyes practically glowing as she moved closer to Beth. “But sensed, sure. I can show you all kind of notes on ghostly activity in—”
“I saw a ghost in my house,” Beth blurted out. Then she swung her head from one side to the other, making sure no one could overhear. Her blond hair hung limply around her shoulders, and when she laid both hands on her desk, I saw that they were trembling. “I mean…I think I did. For the past few nights, I’ve heard these weird sounds outside my room, like someone was walking down the hall. But when I got up, th-there was no one. And I thought I was just hearing things, but then last night—” She broke off, chewing her lip. Romy had her fingers curled around the edge of her desk, and even Adam seemed interested now. There was no disguising the real terror in Beth’s voice. “I woke up, and there was this…this shape standing by my bed. All glowing and hazy, and I tried to yell, but it was like my throat wasn’t working, and then it just…it just vanished.”
Romy was practically vibrating with excitement, but I frowned. Last night? I’d sealed Mary Evans in her grave last night. There was no way she could be floating around Beth Tanner’s house.
Beth caught my expression. “You don’t believe me,” she said flatly.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not that, it’s just—”
“Maybe you were dreaming,” Adam suggested, and Beth’s lower lip wobbled.
