Page 62 of Waysider
Laura made an amused sound. “That doesn’t exist.”
“Not yet, it doesn’t.” Cal gave her a small, sad smile. “Difference between you and me is that you can actually do something about it.”
A pause swelled between them. Laura looked at Cal, but she didn’t seem to be frightened by the fact that he’d come closer. She searched his features, almost as if she were seeing them for the first time. Slowly she said, “I think I might get it now.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Get what?”
“Never mind.” Laura returned her attention to the TV and let out a breath. “Of course you were the prom king, too.”
Heat stained Cal’s cheeks. To hide it, he finally leaned back and relaxed against the couch. “Wow. I think you’re a little obsessed with me,” he drawled.
Now it was Laura’s turn to roll her eyes. She finished the beer in her hand and wiped her mouth, her golden rings glinting in the TV’s glow. Then she tipped forward and set the empty bottle on the coffee table. It hit the wood with a hollow sound. “Yeah, sure. Obsessed with how to get you off my couch and out of my life,” she answered.
Cal felt an inexplicable pique of irritation. He turned his gaze to the television and waited for it to pass, just like he did every time Cass managed to get under his skin. Nothing showed in his voice as he said, “Well, once we find the guy I’m looking for, you won’t ever have to see me again. How are those mushrooms coming along?”
He felt Laura looking at him again. But her voice was neutral, too. “Nothing yet.”
Both of them fell silent. They watched TV for a couple minutes, or at least, Cal pretended to watch it. He didn’t really register any of it—his mind was on the night ahead. He felt antsy, almost jittery. It was the same feeling he got before every game. Cal forced himself to stay still, worried that anything else would make Laura nervous.
But then another minute passed, and he knew that if he didn’t do something to distract himself, he was going to explode. Cal glanced over at Laura, fighting the urge to shift or fiddle with the collar of his jacket. “So how did you end up here?” he asked casually.
She spoke without turning. “In this apartment? Well, how do most people find places to live? There was a listing in the paper.”
Cal didn’t rise to the bait. “I meant here in San Francisco. Living on your own.”
“You know, we don’t need to talk,” Laura said abruptly. The blue light flickered across her dark eyes.
“Actually, we do. If I’m being honest, I’m a little nervous, and Cheers isn’t doing it,” Cal admitted.
Laura started to get up from the couch. “In that case, I think Family Ties is on.”
“Aw, come on. Humor me,” Cal pleaded.
She sighed and sank back against the cushion again. Her tone became brisk, and she still wouldn’t look away from the TV as she said, “Fine. You want my life story? It’s not a special one. I grew up in and out of halfway houses, because my mom was pretty messed up. She had the gift, and all the voices got to her. She started using to drown them out. It took her a while to notice that I could communicate with spirits, too, but when she did, she decided to use it. The better I got, the more she was able to charge. Eventually we got this apartment, which she barely spent any time in, since she was always over at her boyfriend’s. They died two years ago. Drug overdose, police said. I was eighteen, so I stayed here and just kept the business going. Mom never had any other kids, and she refused to tell me anything about my father or her family, so I’ve been alone ever since.
“All right.” Without warning, Laura stood up from the couch, her eyes wide and glassy. “It’s time.”
Cal was still processing what she’d just told him, and it took him an extra second to comprehend that Laura had started walking toward the curtained area in the middle of the room. It’s time, she’d said.
A rush of adrenaline hit him. So this was it, Cal thought. Tonight, he might finally get some answers. Suddenly apprehensive, Cal followed Laura over to the small, round table where he’d seen her sitting with clients. Her chair creaked as she sat. Cal’s didn’t make a sound, a detail that still bothered him, no matter how hard he was trying to accept it. Oblivious to the way Cal’s jaw had tightened, Laura took a long breath and rolled her shoulders. After a moment, she seemed to sink into herself, her eyes sliding shut.
More time went by. Cal watched her, wondering if he needed to do anything. He was about to ask when Laura commanded, “Picture the person you’re trying to contact.”
Cal didn’t even need to close his eyes. In an instant, he could see him—the guy whose name he still didn’t know, and yet he’d become the person Cal thought about most. Cal pictured him standing on the bridge with that pitiful look on his face. The look that had provoked Cass to climb up and try to help him. The thought made Cal’s hands clench between his knees.
Laura’s brow furrowed in concentration. “I do sense a connection. It’s close.”
Suddenly Cal felt it, too. He closed his eyes instinctively, and a startled jolt went through him as he realized he must’ve been seeing what Laura was seeing. Somehow, Cal knew the darkness in front of him wasn’t the insides of his eyelids. It was something else. Somewhere else. For the first time since he’d died, Cal felt colder, as if he’d stepped out of a warm house and into a wintry night.
But the darkness wasn’t absolute.
“The bond between you is… significant,” Laura murmured. “This presence is so strong.”
“It’s Cass.” Cal’s voice was soft, but his heartbeat was steady with certainty. He’d know that soul anywhere. It was Cass, through and through. Bright. Chaotic. Defiant. Cal opened his eyes to ask Laura if she sensed any other connections. But when he saw her face, the question faded.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Cal asked sharply.
“Your sister,” Laura murmured. A line deepened between her dark brows, and she shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like it. That’s… that’s not how it’s supposed to look.”
