Page 79 of Waysider
Bradley and Finch both jumped. Then Bradley began to stammer, “I—I was trying to make something, and I got distracted. It caught on fire, and—”
“Dude, again?” Justin scowled. “You realize they take smoke damage out of all our deposits, not just yours, right? I need that money, man.”
“I’m sorry.” Bradley looked miserable, as if he were wishing the floor would open up and swallow him.
Finch lifted her chin. She stepped closer to Bradley and declared, “He didn’t do it on purpose, Justin. You don’t need to be so unkind about it.”
“Kindness won’t get me my money back,” Justin countered. Cass chose that as her moment to leave, and they were still arguing when she finally slipped out the front door.
Michael stood near the hedge. Cass approached him, but she kept her eyes on the ground, worried that someone might walk by or look out one of the windows. As she stopped, Cass realized that she was protecting him, just like she protected Cal.
“Don’t worry, none of them can see me,” Michael said, reading her disturbingly well.
Cal looked at him with a thoughtful frown. “They can’t seem to see Cal, either. Why is that?”
They went down the sidewalk, then onto the brick path that led to Old Main and most of the lecture halls. “I have no idea,” Michael admitted.
He didn’t say what Cass knew they were both thinking. She was the common denominator here. Cal and Michael were both connected to her in some way, and so far, she was the only voyant that could sense them. That didn’t mean Cass was willing to take unnecessary risks, though.
They walked through campus in a surprisingly easy silence. Most of the time, Cass felt compelled to fill the quiet with something. That wasn’t an option right now—there were too many people around. So they stayed close to each other and said nothing, allowing the small space between them to fill with birdsong and the voices of passing students.
After a few minutes, Michael turned right and entered the Hissing Gardens. Cass hesitated, but the revenant kept going. She hurried to catch up, because she knew what else lurked in this garden at night, and she didn’t want to be alone out here. What could Michael possibly want to show her? Was he just taking a shortcut?
It occurred to Cass that they didn’t need to be quiet anymore, and she could just ask him. She was about to when Michael finally stopped. Cass followed his gaze eagerly.
“Wait. You brought me to a mausoleum?” she asked, coming to an abrupt halt.
Michael’s back was turned to her, and she couldn’t see his face as he replied, “It’s empty. No one was ever buried here.”
Michael paused near the entrance. Cass caught up again and reached past him to grasp the handle, expecting the door to be locked, but it opened easily enough. Her shoulder brushed Michael’s chest at the same moment he stepped back. Cass pretended not to notice as she stepped inside, leaving the door open behind her.
Her eyes darted around the room instantly. Nothing moved. The air smelled like dust and dead leaves, and Cass’s footsteps made soft sounds on the stone floor. She had always thought mausoleums were morbid, even creepy, but she had to admit that this one was beautiful. Flowers had been carved where the walls met. Yellow light shone through a square opening over the coffin. This place was in the perfect spot, too—it was close to the dormitories but still isolated.
Cass perched on the edge of the empty coffin and tried to calm the riot in her stomach. After a moment, Michael sat beside her, and she noticed how much distance he put between them. Silence and cold filled the room. Cass tried to think of something to say. She knew she was stalling, but she needed to work up the nerve to do this. It was finally hitting her, the potential consequences of her plan. Drinking See was no joke.
If she didn’t, though, Karen Watkins would just keep coming to her. Cass didn’t know how long she could bear the nightmares and the possessions. She’d probably have to go to Headmistress Crane, and then they’d untether Karen while her killer continued on.
“Have you remembered anything else?” Cass asked Michael without preamble. “About your life before?”
He shook his head again. “No.”
“That must really suck. I’m sorry.”
Once again, Michael looked at her as if he were faintly surprised. “Thank you,” he said.
Cass nodded, her eyes falling back down to the See. She could feel the soft pressure of Michael’s attention, but she tried to keep her focus on the bottle. It felt like she was up on that ledge again, her shoes hovering over open air, the ground dangerously far. One misstep and she’d go tumbling.
“You seem better,” Michael said.
The comment almost made Cass laugh. She cast a pointed look around them. “I don’t know about that. Look at where we are.”
Michael’s dark gaze didn’t waver. “I see someone just trying to help a lost soul.”
Something inside Cass fluttered. He was being nice, she told herself. From what little she knew about him, Michael seemed like a good guy. Cass cleared her throat.
“Well, I guess I should…” she trailed off. She peered down and watched the liquid shimmer in the weak light. Her palms began to sweat. Cass could feel her heartbeat in her ears as she glanced over at Michael. He must’ve seen something in her expression yet again, because he shifted closer on the coffin. His hand almost touched hers where it rested on the edge.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Michael said quietly.
