Spiritus, a Paranormal Romance (Spiritus Series Book#1) Read online

  Chapter 2

  It wasn’t a restful night. The gentle end of summer breeze kept the oak tree branches scraping at the window like bony fingers. I tossed and turned all night, pulling the blankets over my head and covering my ears with my hands, but it was still well after midnight before I fell asleep.

  When I awoke on the first day of school, a thick mist clung to the trees out my window. I couldn’t see through the branches to know if it was raining or if it was still the dew from the night before. I’d have to ask Dad about getting someone to trim some of the branches so I could at least see the ground below.

  Dad was waiting in the antiquated kitchen with a bowl of cereal and milk from a plastic cooler. From the looks of the refrigerator squatting near the stove, the last time it was running was a decade or so before Woodstock.

  When my Mom was alive, she made breakfast a grand affair of bacon, eggs, and made from scratch pancakes for the first day of school. She always called it my “good luck” breakfast. I tried not to miss it.

  “Ready for your big day?” Dad asked with a sappy grin.

  “You bet,” I replied with a forced smile. I took a set at the oversized kitchen table. “Can’t wait.”

  Dad sat down across from me and sighed, “Just try to give it a chance. I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.”

  In an instant the rush of guilt flowed over me. He was trying so hard and I was acting like a spoiled brat. My Mom would be so disappointed in me.

  “I’m sure it will be great.” I countered, really trying to sound cheerful. The effect sounded almost comical to my critical ears.

  He smiled as if he believed my ruse, “That’s my girl.”

  I choked down my breakfast while he leaned against an ancient white stove watching me. Shoving the last spoonful of my mushy feast into my mouth, I smiled as I stretched past him to put my bowl in the sink. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “It’s nothing,” He replied in a tight voice. “I was just thinking of how much you look like your mother now.”

  I didn’t mean to, but I flinched. I sensed her absence acutely and resented being reminded of it.

  A suffocating silence fell between us until I stretched my face into a smile like I knew she would have wanted me to and gathered my things.

  “Wish me luck,” I said as I walked toward the door, not waiting to see if he actually would.

  The bright stillness of the morning met me when I stepped out on the porch. I walked down the drive to the sidewalk and looked around. The entire town seemed to still be sleeping; even the scant traffic was quiet as it passed.

  It didn’t even seem real. Towns like this belonged in movies, the cheap dollar matinee kind featuring white faced zombies chasing buxom blondes. I didn’t know to be charmed or frightened.

  I didn’t hurry. I just sort of walked along, looking at the old houses and trying to guess what the owners of them looked like or what they did for a living. For some reason I couldn’t get past the idea of a lot of duck hunting males married to a bunch of garden party ladies.

  By the time I reached the corner I began to see a few kids near my age leaving their homes with books in hand. Even if Dad hadn’t gone over it a dozen times and put the map on my phone too, I didn’t have to worry about finding the school anymore.

  I stayed about a block behind all of them though, just so they wouldn’t think I was following them, no point in calling attention to myself. I already hated being the new kid and not knowing where I was supposed to be or what I was supposed to be doing.

  Corydon Central High School looked like a scaled down version of my old high school in Indianapolis. It had the same generic exterior that tried to look cheerful and welcoming, but came off the exact opposite, looking very institutional. There was more green here, with more shrubs and larger trees, but other than that they were very much alike.

  Inside it was not much different either, the same overly bright lights, the same medicine-like school smell and the same ugly tile. Did all schools in America look and smell somewhat the same? I wondered if they bought paint and tile in bulk and then just shipped it to schools all across the country.

  I glanced down at my class schedule; the blurry dot matrix print read that I should be in room one thirty-two for Science. While I searched for room numbers above doors, everyone else pushed past me, already knowing where they were going.

  I felt flushed; the first fluttering of panic in my chest was trying to rise to the surface. I wanted it to already be evening and then this day would be nothing more than a story of mishaps I would be recounting to Dad over dinner.

  The science room was easy enough to find, but I still stood in the hall and let the other students file in past me. They were all chattering about what they did over the summer.

  I saw the seats in the back of the class filling up quickly, so I went on in and claimed one of the lab tables in the second to last row. It was easier not to draw attention to myself towards the back of the room. I just sort of blended in as the rest of the class wandered in and took seats.

  Science was never my favorite subject, I knew within minutes my opinion wasn’t going to change. Geometry was next and it promised to be just as boring as it was in Indianapolis. At least no one seemed to notice me. I wasn’t sure if everyone was still half asleep or if I really was that insignificant, but I knew my luck was bound to run out soon.

  Another bell, another class. This time English and I felt somewhat better as I took a seat again near the back, pretty sure I would just get lost in the mix again.

  That feeling of comfort disappeared when a lanky brown haired girl took the desk in front of me and turned in the seat as soon as she sat down, “I don’t know you.”

  It wasn’t a question, more of just an announcement of a fact.

  “Hi,” I said with a nervous smile. “I’m Becca McAllister.”

  “I’m Ally Lentz,” she said without a smile. “And I don’t know you.”

  Now I was really unsure how to respond, but she sat there staring at me as if she expected an answer of some sort.

  “I just moved here,” I volunteered.

  I didn’t have to say anything else. Ally began telling me all about Corydon Central. I couldn’t even begin to keep up with everything that she was saying; something about concerts downtown, a park somewhere, and football games. I was actually grateful when the bell rang and the teacher began the class.

  Mrs. Temple, a chunky woman with chalk smudges across her skirt hips, went on and on about the great American writers. She never mentioned any of them by name, but promised we would learn all about them by the end of the year.

  I was saved when the bell rang. I barely had time to glance at my schedule before Ally was blocking my path, peering down at my schedule, and trying to read it upside-down.

  “What do you have next?” She asked, squinting to decipher the blurry type.

  “Lunch.”

  “Oh, so do I,” She said with a big smile. “Come on, I’ll show you where the cafeteria and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

  The way she said “everyone” made me think she meant just that. Her energy was a little overwhelming, but I was happy she was there. I had been dreading lunch all day. Nothing could be worse than sitting at an empty table alone while everyone stared.

  It was obvious Ally did mean everyone. As we walked to the cafeteria, she said hello to every person that passed and made super quick introductions. She didn’t slow her pace; she waved to them, pointed to me, and said what she had to say and went on.

  “Hey, this is Becca, she just moved here.” She’d call out even if people were only then stepping into earshot. “Becca, this is John, Caitlyn, and Shelby.”

  It seemed everyone liked her. It also seemed there were no cliques at Corydon Central. I said as much to Ally which really made her laugh.

  “No,” she replied with a chuckle. “We don’t really have cliques here. Everyone knows everybody else. It’s hard to ac
t superior when we’ve all seen each other eating mud pies and peeing in our pants back in preschool.”

  Stepping into the cafeteria, Ally waved to a blonde girl sitting at one end of a full table. The girl motioned us over with a welcoming smile. Was everybody here so friendly?

  “You must be Becca,” She said as soon as I sat down. “I’m Billie.”

  I was shocked she knew me and a little intimidated by how pretty she was in a girl-next-door-model-without-make-up sort of way, “Have we had a class together?”

  “No, but everyone is talking about you,” She said with another flash over white teeth.

  “Oh,” I blushed; suddenly very aware of how loud my paper lunch bag sounded as I opened it. I glanced around the cafeteria to see if everyone was staring or if it just felt like they were.

  The tables were noisy with kids calling out to each other and laughing loudly. A few would look in my direction and smile, but no one was really staring

  Everyone seemed friendly enough, smiling when they met my eyes. All the kids except a small group across the room at a small table in the corner. My previous experience in my old school told me that they were probably the cheerleaders and the jocks since I had yet to hear of a school where those two groups didn’t cling together away from everyone else.

  “I see you noticed the cheerleading sheep,” Billie said with a toss of her head toward the girls. “That’s Ashley Richardson and her minions.”

  I had no doubt which one was Ashley. The blond in the center of the group was obviously the leader, all of the other girls at that table looked up at her with an idolizing expression.

  I turned to Ally, confused, “I thought you said there weren’t really cliques here.”

  Ally took a bite of a banana and chewed before answering, “There isn’t. Ashley acts like she’s better than all of us, but we just ignore her, the only people that really worship her are the other cheerleaders. You know how that is.”

  I nodded. “We had a group like that at my old school.”

  “Where is your old school?” Billie asked as she took a bite of a rectangle slice of pizza.

  “Indianapolis.”

  Ally narrowed her eyes, “What did you do to end up here?”

  “My Dad grew up here,” I explained, repeating the exact things I practiced the night before for this very moment. “After my Mom died, he moved us back here.”

  Billie stopped chewing, “Sorry about your mom. How’d she die?”

  “Car accident two years ago,” I said, keeping it as brief as possible.

  “I’m sorry,” Ally said and then as if she sensed my reluctance to talk about it, changed the subject. “So, do you like the house?”

  I shrugged, “It’s different.”

  “A lot of people live in old houses around here,” Ally offered.

  “This town is full to the rim with historical locations and ghost stories,” Billie said with a smirk.

  Ally clapped her hands together, “That’s a perfect idea!”

  “What?”

  “We should have a séance at your house,” Ally explained. “Those old houses on Capitol Avenue are always fun to do it in.”

  Séances were a sleepover tradition back in Indianapolis, but it was one I never really got the opportunity to be a part of. I wasn’t sure I even bought into all that supernatural stuff.

  “Do those ever really work?” I asked.

  “You never know.” Billie answered with a shrug and a giggle. “But it beats doing nothing.”

  They both seemed excited about the idea and Billie had a good point, what else was there to do?

  “Do you want to try it tonight?” I asked.

  Both girls smiled and agreed to meet me after school. I didn’t realize it was happening, but it seemed I was already falling into my own little group. All I had to do was take part in a silly little séance which might at most result in some squeaking floorboards and a good laugh.

  I was sitting with my new friends, enjoying this quick acceptance, when I saw him. He was beautiful, tall, blonde, and muscular all at the same time. His face was tanned and handsome in the teenage heart throb sort of way, the sort of perfect that shouldn’t exist in high school.

  “Who is that?” I asked my new friends.

  Billie followed my eyes and then smiled when she saw who was the object of my attention, “That’s Jonah Ericson.”

  “Isn’t he gorgeous?” Ally asked.

  “Every girl in school is after him,” Billie added. “Even her Royal Highness Ashley.”

  “But he doesn’t pay her a bit of attention,” Ally added with a giggle.

  I watched him move through the cafeteria, waving to almost everyone. He seemed completely unaware of how amazingly good looking he was. How was that even possible?

  “All of us have had a crush on him at one time or another,” Billie confessed with a knowing smile.

  Blushing, I turned away from his perfection and refused to meet her eyes. I was grateful when the bell rang and I could escape. I promised to meet them after school and gathered my books and schedule, feeling a little more confident even though neither was in my next class.

  History was my next class and it was at the other end of the building. Now that I was getting used to how the room numbers ran, I found the class easily enough and slipped into another desk in the second to the last row. I was feeling pretty convinced that I could survive the day.

  Desks around me filled up as students came in. I kept my eyes down and pretended to be intent on lining up the edges of my History book and my notebook perfectly. I looked up as someone took the seat in front of me. My breath caught when I recognized Jonah Ericson.

  He must have heard me gasp. Turning slightly, he smiled at me with perfect white teeth, “Hey.”

  I couldn’t say anything. I was too stunned by seeing his perfection up close. Was it possible he was even better looking close-up? I could only imagine what he thought of me staring at him open mouthed. It obviously made him uncomfortable because he turned back around without trying to make further conversation.

  The bell rang and class began. Rather than paying attention to what historical milestones we would be learning that year, I wondered if Jonah Ericson was thinking the village of Corydon just found a new idiot.

  The teacher droned on about the Civil War and other events lost in time. I spent the class staring at the tanned skin of Jonah Ericson’s neck. It looked strangely soft and vulnerable. If I leaned forward just a little, I could smell a trace of his cologne.

  I tried to focus, but I kept getting distracted by his profile and the perfect way that his hair caught the afternoon sun in a golden halo. I was so very grateful when the bell rang and I could get out of there before I made a bigger fool of myself.

  The rest of the day was a blur of more classes and more people that I didn’t know. I was grateful when the final bell rang and I was free.

  I met Ally and Billie outside the school and moved them away from the school as quickly as possible. I was very aware of my own voice and wasn’t too sure what to do with my hands. I was ready to get away from there and relax a little.

  “So,” Ally began as she bounced along the sidewalk. Her stride was some sort of cross between a skip and a walk. “We’re going to need some candles. Do you have some?”

  “We have tons. My Mom was addicted to scented candles,” I bit my lip at the last part.

  Billie saw my reaction and thankfully didn’t pause for sentiment. “Your Dad isn’t going to freak out over this, is he?”

  I reassured her, “My Dad probably isn’t even home, or if he is, he’ll be leaving soon. He doesn’t hover.”

  That seemed to please them both and Billie copied Ally’s happy prance. I had always envied girls with close female confidants. It was a luxury I had never really known even in my old school. There was just something about my personality that kept me from developing close friendships.

  Because of that, I was in foreign territory as I opene
d my new home to my new friends. I had no idea what to say or do as we stood in the entry. Everything I was rehearsing in my mind sounded so stupid in my head I couldn’t say it.

  My Mom always knew what to say and what to do. I wished she was there to help me out, or even my dad, but he left a note on the entry table about going to look at some antiques in some place called Milltown. I was all on my own and totally lost.

  Billie looked around, totally unaware of my anxiety. She let out a long sigh, “Wow.”

  I took a good look at the house, trying to imagine it through their eyes. The detailed moldings and spacious rooms were beautiful without being ostentatious. It was the first time I got the feeling not only was this my new home, but it was also the history I came from.

  “Would you like a soda or something?” I asked, surprised by the confident tone in my voice.

  Now it was them looking uncomfortable as they said no thank you and followed me up the staircase to my room. I tossed my books on my desk and plopped into the leather swivel chair, “Come on in.”

  Ally came in and sat down cross legged on my bed and looked around, “What was your house in Indianapolis like?”

  I laughed and spun in the chair, “Not like this. We lived in a townhouse.”

  “This must have been a big change,” Billie stated as she stretched out on the floor.

  “Not really. Our townhouse wasn’t small.”

  “So are you rich or what?” Ally blurted out.

  I blushed. I’d been dreading this conversation. Would they hate me for what I had?

  “Not exactly,” I explained. “After my Mom died, Dad said he realized what was important. He was a partner in his law firm, owned a little real estate around the city, and stuff like that but he sold everything and moved us here.”

  “So, he’s retired?” Billie pressed.

  I could see they were trying to decide if they were going to be jealous of me or not.

  “He’s not exactly retired,” I said. “But he made enough that he doesn’t have to work for a while.”

  That seemed to satisfy their curiosity. Ally even added that her own father took a year off from the pharmacy when she was born.

  “He said that was one of the benefits of owning your own business,” She said.

  I could relax then, confident I was not going to be labeled the “rich” girl. From what I saw already though, money wasn’t quite as important here as it was in Indianapolis.

  “So Billie, what does your Dad do?” I asked.

  She shrugged, “I live with my Mom and she works up at the library.”

  Billie explained her Dad went out for bread and milk ten years ago and had yet to return. She spoke of her father with indifference, but I heard her admiration for her hard working mother in her voice.

  Our conversation then became more casual. We talked about books we had read, movies we had seen, and music we liked. I reveled in this sudden immersion in female camaraderie. It was something so new to me that I had always thought only belonged between cheerleaders.

  “So what’s the story with that Ashley girl?” I asked, remembering her loud laughter in the cafeteria.

  “Not much of a story,” Ally said, “Her and her little pompom minions try to rule the school, but no one really pays any attention to them.”

  “You know the type,” Billie added. “They want everyone to think that the whole world revolves around them.”

  “We had some girls like that at my old school.”

  Ally nodded as if by admitting I knew the type I was somehow agreeing with her over something, “So you know all about it. She’s got perfect hair and perfect skin, but then she’s a complete hater.”

  “The sad thing is that some of the guys at school treat her like a goddess or something.” Billie complained. I wondered if there wasn’t a particular boy that she had in mind.

  Ally giggled, “Some of the guys, but definitely not Jonah. He wants nothing to do with her.”

  “Which makes her want him that much more,” Billie added. “It’s sort of like watching Karma in action.”

  I had to laugh with them over that. If my first impression of Ashley was correct, she and I were in different leagues. It was nice to have proof that someone like her could strike out too, like it balanced the universe or something. Maybe Billie was right and it was Karma.

  There was more idle chatter about celebrities and clothes, and then Ally let out a dramatic sigh. “So are we doing this or not?”

  “Might as well get started,” Billie agreed.

  I didn’t really care about the séance, but I wanted to hold onto this rare moment of female bonding so I agreed.

  “So what all do we need?” I asked

  Billie looked puzzled, “Haven’t you ever done one of these before?”

  “Not really,” I confessed.

  Ally clapped her hands together like a little girl, almost bouncing on the bed. “Oh, this will be fun.”

  I brought the candles they requested and hoped the spirits didn’t mind the scent of vanilla bean. As commanded, I joined the circle the two of them had started on the floor.

  “Now only one person should talk at a time,” Billie explained. “We don’t want to confuse the spirits.”

  Playing along, I nodded. I didn’t really expect anything to happen, but it was fun to at last take part in this ritual.

  “Now join hands,” Billie commanded. “And no matter what happens, don’t let go.”

  It seemed a little overly dramatic, but I took each of their hands. Since I never did this before, who was I to judge?

  “Now look into the candle flame and focus all your energy to that one spot,” Billie instructed.

  Again, it seemed a little over the tops, but I did as I was told and stared at the flickering flame of the candle.

  Billie closed her eyes and tilted her head back, “Spirits, hear us now.”

  “If you’re able to hear us,” she went on. “Please give us a sign.”

  I watched the flame of the candle and waited. All of this was a little ridiculous, but it was still kind of fun to play around with the idea.

  “Let me try,” Ally suggested after a few more minutes. “Please give us a sign of your presence.”

  Again, nothing.

  I strained to listen for any sound in the house, but for such an old house it was oddly quiet. I actually expected to hear the typical boards squeaking and such, but there was nothing.

  “Why don’t you try?” Ally proposed to me.

  “What? I wouldn’t even know what to say.”

  “Just say the things we said,” Billie offered.

  “But I’ve never done this before,” I argued.

  Ally squeezed my hand, “There’s nothing to it. Just try.”

  I took a deep breath and gave it a try even though I felt very foolish.

  “Spirits,” I began. “I know you can hear me. Give us some sign to prove to us that you are listening.”

  We were all silent; patiently waiting for something that we knew wasn’t going to happen. The clock in the hall ticked the minutes away.

  “Try one more time,” Billie ordered, “I think the flame on the candle changed.”

  While I was skeptical, I tried again. “Spirits, I know you are there. Give me a sign to show that you can hear me.”

  The flame of the candle did nothing unusual. It danced and flickered as always, not changing in any unexpected way.

  I sat there, wondering how long we were going to wait before admitting that it didn’t work. Ally and Billie were still looking into the flame and tilting their heads trying to hear something.

  “Am I the only one that feels like an idiot?” I asked.

  We all looked at each other for a brief moment before we burst out laughing. Billie had us count to three and then we released hands all at the same time.

  “I don’t think anything is going to happen, but better to be safe than sorry,” She explained.

  I leaned forward to blow out
the candle, but it went out before I could even draw a breath. I stopped short and looked down at the blackened nub, debating if it really did go out on its own. There was no real proof other than the thin line of smoke still coming up from the wick.

  Thinking it must have just been a random draft, I gathered the candles up and put them away. We ordered in pizza and watched television until it started getting late. Billie and Ally gathered their books and promised to see me tomorrow at school. I was waving to them from the door when Dad came home.

  “New friends already?” Dad asked as he carried a box of newspaper wrapped treasures past me.

  “Yeah,” I answered as I watched them turn at the corner while holding the door open for him.

  “So how bad was it?” Dad asked as he stepped past me and into the house.

  I smiled and followed him inside, “Actually, it wasn’t half bad.”

  I filled him in on my day and then admired his antiques as he unwrapped them one by one. He was still unpacking when I excused myself to go to bed. It was nice to see him so happy and pleased with himself. Maybe this move would be good for us.

  I lay in bed, looking around my room. I wondered again how long it would be before this room really felt like mine. The only thing that was familiar was the scent of vanilla bean left over from the candles.

  It was well after midnight when I awoke. Someone was in the room with me. I didn’t know what it was at first that tipped me off, but I was certain that I was not alone.

  I sat up in bed and listened. Someone was very close in the dark room, close enough to set off my intuition, but far enough away to be able to hide in the shadows.

  Out of the corner of my eye I spotted movement. I froze, moving only my eyes to see a man standing in the dark corner across from the bed.

  He was young, in his early twenties, just standing there staring at me. His blue eyes were almost glowing in the dim light.

  As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could make out a tousle of bronze hair and his plain button down shirt and some sort of vest. Even as I turned my head toward him, he refused to move. It was as if he had no fear of me screaming and him being discovered.

  He kept staring at me. His stance was nonthreatening and his expression was a strange mix of sadness and something else I couldn’t name. Why was he just standing there?

  “Who are you?” I demanded, surprising myself in that I didn’t feel the need to scream. “What do you want?”

  The man said nothing, but continued to stare at me with those intense blue eyes.

  I opened my mouth to speak and then it happened. There was a shift in the air, like that weird feeling of intense gravity before a storm, and then he was gone.

  It was so strange. He was right there and then he just wasn’t. He just faded away and I was left staring at a frightenly empty corner.

  Without thinking, I got out of bed and went over to the corner. No one was there, but the air was frigid and cold.

  I was afraid then, so afraid that my teeth began to chatter. I didn’t understand what just happened. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, the last thing I wanted to do was scare Dad, but part of me wished I was still small enough to scream and have him come running.

  I settled for returning to my own bed. I lay in the dark and watched that vacant corner, trying to convince myself that I imagined the whole thing.

  When sleep did return, it was filled with dreams of clear blue eyes staring at me from the darkness.