Page 42 of Waysider
Her face was on fire, and she knew everyone in the room was staring. Without another word, Cass backtracked to her desk, snatched up her books, and hurried down the aisle between the tables. Professor Horn didn’t try to stop her, or question where she was going in the middle of class.
Despite her resolution to attend every class, Cass went back to Wayside. If anyone asked, she’d say she was sick. It wasn’t far from the truth. Cass kept her head down the entire way, replaying those last few minutes of Basics of Untethering again and again. What the hell was wrong with her? Was she losing her mind? She worried that the See was still in her system, but Teddy had said it didn’t last long. Cass prayed he was right as she hurried up the walkway, not daring to glance toward her bedroom window. She wasn’t sure she could handle another ghostly encounter right now.
A burst of noise greeted Cass the moment she opened the front door. It was the middle of the day, but there always seemed to be someone else around at House Wayside. Cass welcomed the distraction, pausing in the living room doorway to survey the scene before her. “What are you guys doing?”
“New game,” Justin muttered, jabbing the buttons on the controller.
“It’s called Ghostbusters,” Bradley chirped without taking his eyes off the TV.
Cal was there, too, which was a recent development. Cass still didn’t like it, but Cal had argued that if her roommates could see him, they would’ve by now. He was losing his mind staying upstairs all the time. So her brother sat on the other side of the couch, looking for all the world like he was just one of the guys. Cass’s gaze lingered on him, but he kept his focus on the video game, his arms draped over the lumpy cushions behind him. If Cass said anything, Justin and Bradley would think she was insane, or they’d realize her dead twin was living with them. Her lips pressed together.
“Hey.” The sound of Cal’s voice made Cass turn. He’d followed her. His brows were drawn together, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Everything okay?”
Cass didn’t force herself to smile—that would be overkill—so she gave him an annoyed look and said, “I’m fine. The professors are just killing me with the homework load. Need to get started if I want to avoid falling behind.”
“It’s Friday,” Cal started, but Cass turned away and slipped up the stairs. Tonight, all she wanted was to feel normal. Just for one night.
Maybe Cal sensed it, because for once, he let her go.
When she reached her room, Cass opened the door with a flutter in her stomach, just as she always did. But there was no sign of Michael, of course. She let out a breath, her shoulders slumping, and Cass stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Her book bag hit the floor with a hollow sound.
For the rest of the afternoon Cass sat at her desk, holding a highlighter in one hand while her other lightly gripped the corner of the textbook she was reading. Her parapsychology class was more difficult than she’d thought it would be, and Cass had gotten a C on the last quiz—a low C. She studied an image of a human brain, trying to commit it to memory again. Beneath it, the caption said things like known sensory organs and functional brain imaging and right parahippocampal gyrus. Whatever the fuck that meant. Cass sighed through her nose at the same moment someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she called without looking up.
Finch poked her head inside. Her thick hair fell over one shoulder, the frizzy strands catching the lamplight. She wasn’t wearing her glasses tonight, and her watery blue eyes were earnest as she said, “Hi, roomie. Just thought I’d check on you. You’ve been awful quiet this week.”
“I’m fine. Just trying to keep up.” Cass flashed her a distracted smile.
She expected Finch to smile back and retreat, but she didn’t move. Instead, Finch shifted her weight from foot to foot, keeping one hand on the doorknob. “So that party is later,” she ventured.
Losing her patience with the picture of the brain, Cass turned the page. “I think I’ll just stay in this time, if that’s okay with you. I’m not really in the mood for a party.”
“Stay in?” she heard Finch repeat. “But… it’s House Shadowripper. Everyone wants an invite to one of their parties, and it’s practically unheard of for a Waysider to get one. And… and Teddy will be there. I’m sure he’ll introduce us to people.”
The way Finch said his name betrayed her. Cass finally pulled her focus from the textbook and looked at Finch—really looked at her. Cass realized that if she didn’t go, Finch couldn’t go, and the other girl clearly wanted to. Cass heard her brother’s voice in her head again, urging her to go out, make friends, try to be normal. Fuck.
She swallowed a sigh and set her pencil down. “Okay. I’ll meet you downstairs. Just give me a few minutes.”
Finch beamed. “I’ll go get ready!”
The floor creaked and groaned as she hurried away. Cass sat there for another moment, staring toward the window, where she could see part of the night sky. She thought about the person she used to be. Someone who waited eagerly for the darkness, using its cover to sneak out, to explore, to live. Well, she’d wanted to feel normal tonight, and what was more normal than going to a party?
She forced herself to leave the desk and go over to the dresser. There, Cass changed into her pinstripe jeans and a black net shirt. The top exposed her tattoo—the small X on her chest—and Cass mentally ran through a list of possible responses when someone inevitably asked about it. She never gave the same answer twice. Over the years, it had become a game for her. Oh, that’s where Mark Hamill touched me once. This? I actually don’t remember, I was blackout drunk when I got it.
Her classmates had thought it was weird, and Cass knew her family didn’t understand, but making something up about a tattoo was better than answering questions about the scar it covered. There was nothing ominous about it, since she’d been born with the mark, so there was also nothing to explain why Cass hated it.
Once she was dressed, Cass went downstairs and into the bathroom. She reapplied her mascara and brushed her teeth, then ran a brush through her short hair, watching her nose ring wink in the weak light. Mom is going to murder you.
Cass hurriedly set the brush down with a clatter and turned away from the memory. Her stomach felt uneasy again. She told herself it was the See, or the fact that she hadn’t eaten all day. Back in her room, she spritzed some perfume over her body and grabbed her jacket. After casting a final glance in the wood-framed mirror over the dresser, Cass let out a breath, mussed her bangs, and went downstairs to meet Finch.
This time, nearly all of her roommates were there. Justin, Bradley, Tammy, Finch, Cal. But the boys’ game was paused on the TV, and the air in the room was thick with tension. Cass glanced between their grim expressions before finally landing on her brother.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know.
Finch was the one to answer. There was sadness in her voice, and a little fear, too.
“They found a body in the chapel,” she said.
