Page 56 of Waysider
The admission made Cass’s heart ache. She mustered another smile for her roommate. “Thanks, Finch. Really. I appreciate you checking on me.”
Finch smiled back and said good night. Once she was gone, Cass closed the door and turned around. She wasn’t surprised to discover that Michael was gone, too. It seemed to be a habit of his. She leaned against the door, and the silence rang in her ears. As Cass stood there, her gaze fell on a splash of white in the room that didn’t belong.
There was something on the bed—Cass hadn’t noticed it before because she’d only been looking at Michael. She crossed the room and picked it up, frowning.
Haunting 7203, the first line declared. Cass’s stomach sank. She forced herself to keep reading.
Beneath this, there was a date and a time, along with instructions to meet her colleagues in Old Main. Fuck, Cass thought, her hand beginning to shake. Suddenly Crane’s parting comment made more sense. Cass would definitely need all the rest she could get, but she had a feeling that she wouldn’t sleep a wink.
She was about to go on her first Haunting.
Two days later, Cass walked into Old Main at two a.m. on the dot.
She was the last to arrive—there were six figures standing in the dim hallway. One of them leaned against a bulletin board, and the rest stood scattered. Cass didn’t recognize anyone other than Sinister and his girlfriend. As she drew closer, she couldn’t help but remember what Finch had said about them once, her voice low and solemn. Shadowrippers tend to have pretty short lives.
Suddenly she regretted making Cal stay behind. But Finch had warned her the team would be drinking See tonight. Cass couldn’t risk the other voyants finding out about her brother. What if they tried to untether him?
It was bad enough Crane knew. Since that meeting in the headmistress’s office, part of Cass had worried, every time she opened her bedroom door, that Cal would be gone. Not just off on one of his secret absences, but gone-gone. Untethered from the living world. Forever out of her reach, stuck somewhere she couldn’t follow.
Cass’s stomach clenched, and she fought the urge to turn around and sprint back to House Wayside. Her hands fisted in her jean jacket as she closed the distance between her and the small, strange group.
Before Cass could speak, Sinister’s girlfriend beat her to it. “Hey. My van is out back, and we should really get going. I’m Webster St. James, by the way. House Shadowripper, but you already know that.”
She paused, and her dark eyes were unreadable as she gave Cass a chance to respond. Cass was careful not to look at Sinister. Her and Webster had never spoken since the party. Never acknowledged what Cass witnessed in that dark bedroom. Not for lack of opportunity—Cass had seen Webster in the dining hall, and they’d passed each other on the walking paths. At some point, the two of them had made the silent, mutual decision to act like that night didn’t happen. Cass wasn’t about to change the status quo now.
“Cass,” she said simply. She nodded at Webster, then quickly turned her attention to the person standing next to her.
A girl with long dark hair came forward, holding out her hand. She gave Cass a soft smile and said, “Camila Sanchez. House Dreamwalker.”
To Cass’s relief, none of the others followed Camila's lead—they stayed right where they were as they finished the awkward introductions. After Camila, a thick-armed boy next to her spoke. He kept those arms crossed, his biceps bulging against the front of his leather vest.
“Wolfgang Schmidt,” he said. He had a thick German accent. “House Pennyseeker.”
The boy standing on his other side went next. This one was thin and short, almost the exact height as Cass. But there was nothing small about his hair, which was a riot of brown curls around his delicate, pale face. A sprinkling of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and part of his cheeks. He, too, had an accent as he declared, “And I am Frenchie. House Timekeeper.”
A brief silence fell. Cass’s eyes darted between the six voyants, confused by the way they all seemed to be waiting for something. Sinister’s countenance radiated annoyance as he said, “Anyone heard from—”
The door at the other end of the hall squeaked open, and a tall figure appeared. The newcomer jogged toward them, his long shadow stretching over the tiles. It was one of Teddy’s friends, Cass saw as he drew closer. She couldn’t remember his name, though. It was something painfully unmemorable, like Thad or Brad.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, out of breath. He raked his silky hair back, and his attention landed on Cass. Interest lit his gaze. “Oh, hey, is this the freshman? What’s up? I’m Chad.”
Frenchie muttered something to Wolfgang, who snorted in agreement. Cass thought she saw one of the boys slip the other a five dollar bill, and a whisper of curiosity went through her. What was that all about?
Cass realized the new guy was still waiting for a response. She held back a comment about how she preferred to be called Cass, and not “the freshman,” and raised her chin in a polite—but dismissive—gesture of acknowledgement. Without waiting to see Chad’s reaction, Cass’s gaze shifted to the only one who hadn’t made an introduction.
The last voyant was, of course, Sinister. Since they already knew each other, Cass expected him to say something about the Haunting. But he stepped away from Webster and moved toward her. He signed his name, his fingers moving with pale grace.
“Sinister Gray,” he said. “I’m honored to have the Attic Whisperer with us tonight.”
Cass looked at him sharply, expecting to see a mocking smirk on the Shadowripper’s face. But Sinister’s mouth was curved with soft teasing, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. Cass shook her head, but she smiled a little, too. Finch had told her about the Attic Whisperer thing a few days ago.
“God, what a terrible name,” she replied. “Can I just be Lucky and Scared Shitless? That would be more accurate.”
Scattered laughter went through the group. Hearing it, Cass felt a strange warmth in her stomach. Stop being weird, she commanded herself. She glanced between Sinister and Webster again. “I thought there was only one representative from each house. Aren’t both of you Shadowrippers?”
Each house except Wayside, Cass thought to herself. She was startled by the small ripple of… protectiveness that went through her. She couldn’t help but think about Finch, and the droop of sadness to her roommate’s eyes as she said, They’re so disappointed in me.
“Normally, yeah, but the school’s official vehicle is out of commission,” Frenchie said, pushing himself off the wall.
