Death, Doom, and Detention

GHOSTLY

I sneaked down to Jared’s room about an hour later, unable to sleep when I found out something was out there. Cameron could feel it, sense it, as he had for days now. Were they taunting him? Trying to get him to come after them as they had Jared? Either way, the realization was enough to push away all thoughts of sleep.

I tiptoed into the room. Granddad lay in the recliner, snoring, and Mrs. Strom sat in a chair by Jared’s bed. She had hooked up an IV and a monitor, probably borrowed from the hospital.

I sat on the bed next to Jared, stroked his hair, ran my fingers along his full mouth.

“Hey, pix,” Grandma said. She’d apparently come in to check on things too.

I tried to bite back the disappointment. “Hey, Grandma.” I wondered how much she knew about my paternal grandparents. Did she know my grandmother was tortured? But, wait. What if she did know?

What if she took that very thing into consideration when she took on all that was me after my parents disappeared? What if it kept her awake nights, knowing she could suffer the same fate?

She looked over at Granddad. “First time in years I’ve slept without that buzz saw going, and I can’t sleep. Guess I’m used to it.”

With a smile, I said, “You must be.” I noticed Cameron sitting at the kitchen table in the dark. My constant shadow. “Cameron, you can come in here.”

“I’m good. And there’s a fridge in this room.” He stood and went to raid it.

Grandma insisted on making him breakfast. I had no idea people actually ate breakfast this early. Since

I was up already, I headed for the shower. The wind had died down, but the frigid morning had left a sheet of ice on the window. It sparkled in the moonlight, the night still thick and black. I was tired just thinking about it.

All the events of the last few days were like a weight. I was moving through water instead of air. And my appearance left much to be desired. Was my skin actually paler? My eyes darker? My hair brighter? I looked ghostly. Maybe I was turning into a vampire. No, I couldn’t be that lucky. At least then I’d stand a chance of helping in this war we had yet to check off our to-do list. Maybe it could be rescheduled. A war would be really inconvenient at the moment.

First Jared being attacked. Then the picture thing. Then Isaac Johnson’s whittling skills and dire warning, which, better a warning be dire than realized. But still. Then Jared’s make-out session with a girl at least six inches taller than me, and his attacking us. Then the tragic story of my paternal grandparents, only to find out my grandfather had been alive all this time. Or, well, quite possibly.

This had been one messed-up week.

And so far today, I couldn’t quite get enough air in my lungs. My eyes stung like there was no tomorrow. And I was certain my wisdom teeth were growing in. Surely my cheeks weren’t usually that puffy.

“This humidity is not helping my hair,” I said to Brooke as we vied for the mirror.

“It’s funny, my hair looks fantastic.”

I gritted my teeth, but she was right. Her hair, thick and black and straight as an honor student, looked amazing.

She eyed me a long moment. “You look like you caught a tropical disease or something. Are you okay?”

“After the last few days, no.”

“Oh, right. Good point. So what are you going to do about your grandfather?”

“I have an idea, but you aren’t going to like it.”

She pursed her lips. “I love your ideas.” When I cast a doubtful gaze at her, she said, “Well, I love some of your ideas. That one that involved ice cream and coffee was amazing.”

“True. That was one of my better ones. But this one requires deception. And possibly skipping school.”

“Sweet. We can always say you got a vision or something. And we have the sheriff on our side. Oh, my gosh, we can get away with anything now. I love being in this gang.”

I chuckled and looked in the mirror. I thought about taunting Mal some more, maybe poking him with a stick, but I didn’t want to risk his wrath. The way my luck had gone, he’d answer this time. I leaned forward to rate the redness level of my eyes on a scale of one to ten, but they weren’t mine. The eyes looking back at me were blue and full of hatred.

Then I heard a voice. “Ready for round two?”

I jolted back and almost fell as Brooke tried to put the blow dryer away. “Did you see that?” I asked, and she glanced around, suddenly wary.

“What? What did you see?”

“In the mirror.”

Brooke stood to look into it. “I don’t see anything.”

I leaned forward, gazed into the mirror again. Nothing.

“Did you have a vision?” she asked, her voice infused with hope. That girl loved my visions.

“No. I don’t think so.”

I couldn’t get out of my room fast enough. I went down to check on Jared. Still asleep. Still angelic.

Which, since he was an angel, made sense. I kissed his cheek and promised him that I’d kiss more than that if he’d wake up. And not try to kill everyone when he did.

Cameron had warmed the truck and was waiting for me to finish my make-out session with an unconscious archangel. He clearly did not understand Jared’s allure. After offering my grandparents a solemn good-bye, Brooke and I hurried to the truck and snuggled together as Cameron drove out of the parking lot. That was about the time Glitch decided to stick his head through the sliding glass window in

Cameron’s truck, the one that led to the camper.

“Hi,” he said.

His voice wasn’t particularly loud nor was his tone particularly threatening, but for some reason, the surprise struck a chord. I shrieked like a doomed chick in a horror movie. For, like, a minute. In my frazzled state of mind, I went for the door handle but couldn’t quite get a grip. Luckily, Cameron put the truck back into park to wait out my panic attack. If I were really in a horror movie, I’d be so dead.

Brooke put some distance between us, and Glitch sat there, eyeing me like I’d lost my marbles.

Maybe I had. After taking several deep breaths, I looked back at them. “What?” I said, suddenly defensive, placing a hand over my palpitating heart. “He scared me.”

“Sorry,” Glitch said. “My car won’t start. Cameron said I had to sit back here.”

“Cameron.” Brooke admonished him with her surly tone. “He would have fit up here.”

A sly grin slid over his face.

“I’m fine,” Glitch said, opening his jaw and rubbing his ears. “My eardrums burst all the time.”

“Sorry.” I crossed my arms and pretended to be repentant, perhaps lay off the caffeine. But I’d gotten very little sleep. How would I make it through the day without caffeine?

I thought about it. Contemplated the pros and cons.

Nope. Not possible.

I leaned over to Cameron. “I might need to stop at the Java Loft on the way.”

Brooke brightened and nodded in agreement.

“Because that’s what you need,” Glitch said. “Something to put the edge on.”

I completely ignored him, and three mocha lattes and a whipped almond toffee cappuccino with nonfat milk later, we headed to school.

The minute we entered the building, a supercharged drink with chocolate warming our hands, Brooke nudged me with her elbow. “Check it out.” She pointed across the hall into Mr. Davis’s office. “Sheriff

Villanueva is talking to Mr. D.”

Cameron was right behind me as usual, making me wonder why I didn’t have bruises on my heels. “He did say he was going to make sure I could stay with you all day.”

As if on cue, they both turned and spotted us. Mr. Davis summoned Cameron into his office with an index finger, his movements sharp.

“Crap,” Brooke said. “That was weird. It’s like they knew we were talking about them.”

“I’m out of here,” Glitch said. He ducked down the hall while we shuffled forward and into the main office.

“Hi, Mrs. Gutierrez,” I said to the school secretary.

“What can I do you girls for?” she asked. She was so nice. She was older but looked young because of her dark bob and huge brown eyes.

I was about to tell her when Mr. Davis barked, “In here, Lusk,” in that gruff voice of his.

Everyone jumped. Including Mrs. Gutierrez. She turned a sympathetic expression on Cameron as he walked into the principal’s office. We sat in the outer office as Mr. Davis and Sheriff Villanueva talked to him. Moments later, he came out with a grin and a note.

“I have to admit,” I said as we walked to first hour. “I love having the sheriff on our side.”

“Me too,” Brooke said.

We walked into Ms. Mullins’s classroom armed and ready. Cameron handed her the note. She took about two seconds to look it over, then scanned the classroom, completely unsurprised. Which left me completely surprised. I mean why would another student be joining her class for the day? It made no sense. I had serious doubts the rest of my teachers would be so obliging, but at least for the next fifty minutes, things would go smoothly.

“I don’t have an empty chair this hour, so we’ll have to wait and see who’s absent.”

“I’d like near the back, if that’s okay, close to Lorelei.”

She nodded, as though strategizing a stakeout were an everyday thing for her. “Okay, you know what?

Just take Nathan’s desk right there.” She pointed. “I’ll put him somewhere else.”

“Thank you. And I’m supposed to let you know—” He stuffed his hands into his pockets as though he felt bad about what he was going to say. “—you’ve been summoned.”

Her lips thinned and she bit down, reprimanding herself. Without taking her eyes off me, she asked

Cameron, “I’ve been found out, haven’t I?”

He grinned and leaned down to her. “Like a thief in a cop bar.”

With a sigh, she bowed her head in resignation. Cameron tipped an invisible hat, then strolled to a middle desk closest to the door. Like a guard, or a barrier.

“I just wanted to apologize,” she said to me, her voice soft so no one would overhear. “For all the secrecy. I couldn’t tell you who I was.”

“Ms. Mullins, how long have you been the observer?”

She smiled. “For as long as you’ve been alive, sweetheart. I was friends with your mother and couldn’t even tell her. And we certainly can’t talk about it here, but I just wanted to apologize. I wanted you to know, I wasn’t purposely trying to keep a secret from you.”

That meant a lot. “Thank you.”

Brooke leaned in. “Since we’ve been under all this stress with visions and prophecies and all, can we get extra credit on the upcoming test?”

“No.” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “And you always pass my tests with flying colors. Why do you want extra credit?”

Brooke shrugged. “There is one thing better than an A.”

“And what’s that?” she asked.

“An A-plus.”

“Ah, got it.”

“Nathan,” Ms. Mullins said when he walked into the room and noticed Cameron in his chair. “Take

Michelle’s desk for today. She’s out sick.” She glanced down at the messages on her desk. “Lots of kids are out sick today, actually.”

For a moment, Nathan looked like he was going to argue, but when Cameron glowered at him, he quickly conceded. Cameron had such a way with people.

The minute we stepped out of first hour, Ashlee Southern rushed up to us, her eyes like saucers. Glitch met up with us too. Her gaze darted to him, then back to me. “Isaac tried to commit suicide last night.”

“What?” Brooke and I said in unison.

“When? What happened?” Brooke asked.

“He called Syd and—” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “—and said he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t kill the prophet. Syd tried to find out more, who he was talking about, but he hung up.

Next thing we know, his parents are calling from the hospital. He’d taken his dad’s gun.” Her voice broke, so we gave her a minute. She swallowed hard and continued. “His dad walked in on him just as he was about to pull the trigger. They fought for the gun, it went off, and that’s all we know.”

I looked around. “Where’s Syd now?”

“At the hospital. They have Isaac sedated, but she’s sitting with him.”

Our hospital was more like an urgent care center with a couple of beds for overnight observation. “We have to go,” I said to Brooke, who agreed with a hearty nod.

But Cameron was less enthusiastic. He seemed a tad perturbed, actually. “What do you mean, he couldn’t kill the prophet?”

“Oops,” I said, realizing I’d never told him or anyone about what Isaac did the day before. “I meant to tell you, but everything that happened with Jared, I just—”

When he leveled an astonished gaze on me, I got defensive again. “You have to admit, we had a busy afternoon yesterday.”

“Fine. What happened, exactly?”

“Isaac carved my name into a desk really creepy-like and told me they wanted me dead.”

Ash gaped at me. “He did what?”

“I know, right?” Brooke said.

“You knew about this?” Cameron asked her.

“Hey, Mr. Sensitive, we forgot. We were busy. ” She got in his face. Or tried to, since he was over a foot taller. It was kind of funny.

“I need to touch him,” I said. “I might be able to see exactly what’s out there.”

“I’ll drive,” Cameron said, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“Maybe we should call your grandparents,” Brooke said. “Let them know what’s going on.”

“Are you kidding? We have Static Cling here if anything goes wrong.” I grinned when Cameron scowled at me.

“Can I get a ride with you?” Ashlee asked. “Syd has our car.”

“Sure,” Brooke said, “if you don’t mind riding in the back with Glitch.”

Ash lifted one shoulder, her gaze landing on an oblivious Glitch. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Suit yourself, but it’s not very comfortable.”

“That’s okay,” she said with a shy smile.

“I get the left wheel well,” he said, walking off. Still oblivious.

I so wanted to head-butt him.