Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [103]
Brent’s cheeks actually turned pink. “Oh . . . I should have figured that . . .”
“And she isn’t avoiding you she’s been keeping busy to keep Thomas from being suspicious. Well, and she’s been busy flirting with Dallin,” Cherie said, winking at me.
I wished myself invisible so I wouldn’t feel the harsh pressure of Brent’s eyes on me.
“So you’ve been busy flirting with a guy you just barely met instead of trying to help me?” Brent demanded, standing up, our curtains undulating in the sudden gusts of air his anger was causing.
“Yes, I’ve been doing exactly what I promised. I’m letting everything drop,” I said. Strands of my hair whipped against my cheeks and I pushed it off my face, glaring at Brent.
“So everything we went through meant nothing? You’re just going to leave me like this?” The ferocity of Brent’s gale made our door rattle on its hinges. His hands were clenched into tight fists by his side, his brown eyes darkening until they were almost black.
“Of course it meant something. I’m just keeping my promise to you, Brent,” I fibbed, the lie catching in my throat like extra chunky peanut butter. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Is everything okay in there?” A voice asked outside our room.
“Uh . . .” Cherie said, scrambling to open the door. “Yeah everything’s fine.”
“Yes,” Brent conceded, his strong breezes still blowing. One caught the door and it opened wide, slamming against the wall behind it. “I don’t want you in danger, but I didn’t think you’d give up so easily either.” Brent ducked his chin, but not before I saw the profound sadness swimming in his eyes.
“I didn’t give up easily, Brent.” I gathered my tangled hair in my hands. Our posters and pictures snapped and quivered in the gusts.
“Who are you talking to?” Debbie, from my social dance class asked, standing next to Cherie at the threshold of my room, her hair twirling around her.
“Do you mind? This is a private conversation,” I snapped, turning back to Brent.
A small smile etched his face.
“What’s so funny?”
He just shook his head, the air suddenly still, letting my hair rain down around my shoulders.
“She knows there’s no one there, right?” Debbie asked Cherie.
The words I had been forming died on my lips, I felt the blood retreat from my face and my head felt like an anvil had just been dropped on it. If this had happened a few months ago, shame would have been burning inside me. The fire in my gut now was a different kind of flame.
I spun toward Debbie, eyes blazing. “Of course there’s someone there.” I pointed directly at Brent. “He needs my help and you’re interfering. You can’t see him because he’s a ghost and you’re not a Waker.” Her mouth slacked open along with Brent’s and Cherie’s. I shooed her away with a dismissive wave of my hand. “Now run along and tell everyone about the crazy girl.” I turned back to Brent. “Oh, don’t think I’m done with you.”
Brent looked positively staggered and dropped back down to the window ledge. He tucked his chin to his chest, hiding his face from me. I lowered myself next to him, smoothing my skirt. Cherie was still trying to close the door on our visitor who was now peppering her with questions.
“I really am glad you’re not getting more tangled up in this mess,” Brent admitted with a small voice. “I really don’t want you involved in it. I guess part of me was jealous.”
“That makes sense; I would be jealous if you were the one alive,” I said, crossing my ankles.
“That . . . that isn’t exactly what I meant,” Brent said slowly.
“Oh. My. Stiletto. Heels. You did it!” Cherie sang, rushing over to me and grabbing me in her arms, pulling me up.
“What?” I asked stumbling over her feet.
“You just admitted to a near stranger that you could see ghosts.” Cherie beamed at me with a brilliant smile.
“Oh yeah. I guess I did.”
“Are you okay?” Cherie asked, taking my hands in hers. She gave me a searching glance that made me uneasy.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You