Page 14 of Waysider
“Fuck you,” she snarled.
“Fuck you.”
The twins glared at each other. A burst of laughter floated through the glass—one of Gavin’s friends was trying to do a handstand on the lawn, Cass saw when she glanced over—but it didn’t ease the tension in that dim, quiet room.
“They hear us, you know,” Cal said softly. “Or hear you, I guess. I was there when Mom and Dad talked about it. They’re going out of their minds with worry. They have no idea what to do.”
Cass had gone back to watching the party, or rather, the ghost attending it. Suddenly she stiffened. “He’s jerking off, Cal,” she breathed, her eyes wide.
He frowned, finally following her gaze. “What?”
But Cass was already gone, flying across the room in a blind rage. She snatched Cal’s baseball bat from its perch against the wall and hurtled into the hall, then down the stairs. Her parents were in the kitchen, and one of them made a startled sound as she bolted past. Cass charged into the yard without hesitation, all of her focus on the dead pervert still hiding behind the tree. Gavin’s friends scattered like billiard balls.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Cass screamed, holding the bat aloft.
She saw the exact moment this dead asshole realized she was speaking to it. The ghost blanched, and its hand fell from its dick. In the next breath, it whirled and ran through the fence.
Cass drew up short and stared in the direction the ghost had gone, her chest heaving. Should she go after it? Damn it, she should’ve asked Sally Crane what ghosts were actually capable of. What if that thing came back looking for Gavin?
She was still debating when her skin began to prickle. Cass lowered the bat and turned slowly, her brain finally catching up with reality.
Everyone was staring at her.
All of them—Gavin’s friends, her parents, the neighbors. Dozens of eyes. The radio was still playing, “Should I Stay Or Should I Go” blaring through the sunny afternoon, but Cass could feel the silence deep in her bones. She was wearing a robe, Cass thought dimly.
She probably looked fucking insane.
Without a word to any of them, she bolted, running back inside as fast as she’d burst out.
As Cass flew down the hallway, she caught sight of her reflection in the antique mirror. She slowed, then backtracked. She was so shocked that she forgot about the plan to lock herself in her bedroom.
Was that really her? Cass wondered faintly. She pressed her palms against the ridges of the wooden frame, the solidness of it assuring her this wasn’t a dream.
The girl peering back from the glass was in even worse shape than Sally Crane. Her cheeks were hollow, her hair stringy, the dye half grown out. The girl was thin, wan, sickly. As if she were the ghost.
Something had to change, Cass realized, staring at herself. She couldn’t go on like this for the rest of her life. And she couldn’t keep terrifying her family. Cass pictured the look on Gavin’s face—the embarrassment. Pain pierced her chest.
Knowing she didn’t have a lot of time before one of her parents came looking for her, Cass went into the kitchen. The phone hung on the wall beside the fridge, its long cord trailing over the tiled floor. She reached for the business card in the pocket of her robe, where it had remained hidden, forgotten, for the past month. Cass read the numbers and dialed, every movement deliberate.
It only rang twice before a crisp, familiar voice spoke on the other end. “Sally Crane.”
Cass swallowed, and her fingers tightened around the phone. “I’d like to know more about that school you mentioned.”
CHAPTER NINE
August 21, 1984
San Francisco, CA
Sunlight shimmered over the pavement outside the Else & Bellows Institute.
Cass stood in front of her new home, a backpack slung over one shoulder, an overnight bag dangling from her other hand. Her head was tipped back, her brown eyes fixed upward.
The oppressive summer heat was full of sound, despite the quiet neighborhood around her. Cars driving past. Birds darting overhead. Laughter from two gangly-limbed boys on bicycles. But Cass barely heard any of it—she gazed at the archway looming above her, searching for some kind of engraving or plaque. There weren’t any letters along the surface or down the pillars, no names or school motto. This would’ve struck Cass as strange, if it weren’t for the contract she’d just signed. A copy of it was shoved in her bag, and it contained words like discretion and caution and exclusive.
Basically, it was a nice way of saying, Keep your mouth shut about us.
Once, Cass would’ve balked at the thought of signing something like that. She started to, when the welcome packet came in the mail and she first found the contract. But then Cass remembered the look on Gavin’s face after she’d lost it in front of all his friends.
