Page 31 of Waysider
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Her first instinct was to rush back to House Wayside.
Just as Cass turned, she checked herself. Shit. No. Her next class was starting any minute, and she was turning over a new leaf here. No more skipping or ditching. Michael and the picture would have to wait. And Cal was still here, glaring at her while he waited for a response.
Cass scowled back. Her astonishment faded and her frustration rushed back. Part of her knew she was being a hypocrite, since Cal wasn’t the only one keeping secrets. But he hadn’t just had a terrifying encounter with a revenant, and Cass wasn’t feeling rational right now. Not to mention she needed Cal to get lost so he wouldn’t witness what she was about to do next. The irony of this wasn’t lost on her, since his comings and goings were the reason for this rift between them.
“I’m going to class. Unless you want to come and risk exposing yourself, then we’ll have to finish this delightful conversation later,” Cass bit out.
Her brother stood there for another moment, his jaw flexing. His jacket creaked as he abruptly turned around and went back the way they’d come, stalking down the stairs in quiet fury, his long legs taking them two at a time. Seconds later, Cal walked through the door and vanished from sight.
Cass waited until it was clear he wasn’t going to come back.
Then she took the frame off the wall, removed the wooden back piece, and took the photo out. After that, Cass spun on her heel and launched in the direction Cal had just gone, reaching up with her free hand to muss her bangs.
Cass continued her search for Fastly Hall. She crossed a busy courtyard. She could feel the curious stares that followed her, but today she didn’t just ignore them—she barely noticed. Her mind spun as she walked. Cass had first seen Michael back in New York, before she even knew Else & Bellows existed. Had he heard her name mentioned after her NDE, by Headmistress Crane or some other staff member? But why would he come looking for her?
She’d always assumed Michael died somewhere in that hospital, explaining how he was in her room when she woke up. This latest revelation blew that theory right out of the water. Michael was tied to the school. Could their connection really just be coincidence?
All Cass had was questions, and exactly zero answers. And for the first time since leaving that dim hospital room, she actually cared.
Answers would have to wait, though. Cass also cared about school. Skipping class on her first day wouldn’t exactly be starting on a good foot.
Still struggling against the part of her that usually won—the part that did stupid shit without thinking about the consequences, or who her choices might affect—Cass kept going in the opposite direction of Wayside. Minutes later, she finally found Fastly Hall and hurried inside, hiding the picture against her side.
When Cass reached the room, her eyebrows shot up. Class clearly hadn’t started yet, which meant she wasn’t late. Cass let out a pent-up breath of relief and moved to sit near the vast, sun-brightened windows. She tried not to dread the next hour. That reckless, urgent feeling was back. It wasn’t like it used to be, sparking beneath her skin with painful intensity, but it was back. Which meant Cass had her work cut out for her if she really wanted to do well here.
Once she’d settled in the chair, Cass lifted her gaze toward a figure at the front, expecting to see their professor. Instead, she saw Teddy Crane. She blinked in surprise.
Finch had mentioned he was a TA for this class, Cass remembered suddenly. She wasn’t sure why she found the sight of him so startling. Teddy sat in a chair off to the left, his golden head bent, full lips pursed in concentration. Sunlight shone around him and dust motes glittered as they moved past, making Teddy look like something that didn’t quite belong in this world. The thought sent a breath of unease through Cass, and also a whisper of intrigue.
As if he heard the thought, Teddy looked up from the file he’d been reading. Cass tensed, worried she’d been caught staring. But Teddy’s gaze went to the clock hanging on the back wall. His expression shifted as he seemed to reach a decision. Teddy pushed his chair back, stood, and circled the desk. He leaned the heels of his hands against the edge, his arms loose, legs crossed at the ankles. At that moment, it seemed more believable that Teddy Crane was their teacher rather than the perfect, cliché jock he actually was. He stood there as if he’d done it a thousand times before, completely at ease.
“Welcome to Basics of Untethering,” Teddy said, scanning the faces in the room. “I’m sure Professor Horn is just running late. Sit tight and feel free to get to know each other.”
Teddy’s eyes flicked toward Cass, finally noticing her. While voices rose all around them, the other students continuing their conversations, he nodded. Cass felt that whisper inside her again. She gave Teddy a brief, uncertain wave back before firmly fixing her gaze on the textbook, pretending to be absorbed in opening it to the right page.
As Teddy predicted, Professor Horn arrived seconds later. Their professor was a middle-aged man with sunken cheeks and tufts of gray hair around his ears. His suit hung off his small frame, and there was a gold pin on his lapel in the shape of a rose. Silver-framed spectacles framed his wide eyes. He touched the spectacles with his fingers, as if to push them up, but they were already high on the bridge of his nose. He ended up just pressing the glasses against his eyes.
Cass would soon learn this was a nervous habit. Within minutes, Professor Horn had done it several more times. He touched his glasses and told them he was from England, that he’d come to America after a renowned career as a voyant. Cass found this difficult to believe—the man seemed like he’d be afraid of his own shadow.
“It was an honor to receive an invitation to the prestigious Else & Bellows Institute, and I look forward to teaching you this course,” Professor Horn concluded. He wiped his palms on his pants and turned away, moving around the edge of the desk. “Please open your books to the first chapter. We begin with a brief history lesson, back to the first voyant who successfully untethered a revenant.”
As Cass struggled to pay attention to the lecture, her heel tapped. She thought about Michael, and wondered how he’d react to the picture. Focus, she told herself, over and over. Maybe the image would trigger one of Michael’s memories, like the moment he’d remembered his name. Focus. Cass picked up her pencil and forced herself to take notes, which wasn’t something she’d done in a long, long time.
To Cass’s surprise, it did help. She managed to put Michael from her mind long enough to learn about Clarence Phillips, the first voyant with documented proof that he’d helped a revenant find peace.
It felt like a small eternity had passed by the time the bell clanged again. Cass was the first one out the door. She fought the instinct to glance in Teddy’s direction, but from the corner of her eye, just for a moment, she swore she saw his face turn toward her. Her senses prickled in that way they did when someone else was watching.
She didn’t look back to see if she was right.
Cass tucked the photo into her bag as she crossed campus, avoiding eye contact with anyone nearby—she wasn’t in the mood for small talk. She wanted answers, and only Michael could give them to her. Cass was so focused that she almost didn’t see Sinister Gray sitting beneath a tree, his dark head bent over a book. Almost. But she did notice him, and for a brief moment, Cass faltered.
They hadn’t actually been introduced, or exchanged words, or had any interactions beyond that nod of acknowledgement in the dining hall. Cass had no reason to approach Sinister. No explanation for the urge she had to cross the distance between them and watch those cool eyes lift from the book and see her. All she knew was that she felt the same stirring for Sinister that she’d just felt for Teddy Crane—interest.
Which was exactly why Cass fixed her eyes firmly elsewhere and kept going, not even allowing herself to wonder if she felt that telltale prickle again.
A few minutes later, House Wayside came into view. The sight of it made something inside Cass loosen. As she opened the door, a flood of warmth and sound greeted her. The air smelled like pizza, which Cass spotted when she passed the dining room. Candice and Tammy sat at the table, the redhead eating a slice of pepperoni pizza as she read from a textbook. Tammy seemed to be working on a device of some sort, and her small, birdlike hands moved a screwdriver in a circular motion. It made a clicking sound and added to the noise pouring in from across the hall.
