Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [104]
I cocked my head to the side trying to gauge my feelings. “I used to think that, didn’t I? Not anymore; I’m good.”
Cherie sat on her bed and tucked her legs under her. I plopped down beside her. “What does Brent think about it?”
I lifted my eyes toward him only to find he was gone. He had slipped out, and things were still strained between us. I only hoped someday he’d understand I hadn’t been going on without him at all; I’d just been trying to find a way to bring him with me.
“He’s gone.”
Cherie sighed. “Good, because we need to talk. Your announcement to our dorm will force us to move faster than we planned.” I nodded. “We have to do it tomorrow, before Thomas hears you’ve been seeing ghosts again.”
The next evening, Cherie and I were going after Thomas to get Brent’s body back and I knew he might kill me . . . again.
Chapter 17
The following afternoon, Cherie and I were in position. She was hiding behind a patch of neglected weeds just outside campus, while I was crouched against a large shrub that straddled the edge of the property. I was pressed against the prickly bush, hoping I was concealed. My hands were slick with sweat and I mentally reviewed the locations of the vials I had strategically hidden around campus. All of them had been laced with my grandma’s herbal concoction. Several test runs had confirmed that even as a spirit I could remove and replace the stoppers. I dried my palms on my jeans waiting for Steve to lure Thomas, still wearing Brent’s body, into our trap.
The air was still, no noise from insects or animals interrupted the twilight. Leaves clung to the trees, seeming almost afraid to fall and disturb the perfect silence. My ears strained to hear Brent’s and Steve’s voices through the quiet. Eventually, the tread of their walk echoed through the stillness, their conversation stabbing at the quiet. When their words floated to my ear, my throat constricted and my muscles coiled, ready to spring. I positioned myself to spy through the leaves.
“She broke my heart, man,” Steve slurred, taking a swig from the bottle he carried. The smell of alcohol was overwhelming, and if I hadn’t known Steve had only splashed the liquor on himself and was only pretending to be drinking it, I wouldn’t have guessed it now.
I had to force myself to breathe, reminding my body how it was done. With each breath, I worried I would be too loud and give myself away. My quads began to protest my squatting, burning from the tension. I repositioned myself to my knees, giving them a rest.
“That stinks,” Thomas said, smirking at Steve’s heavy and clumsy footsteps.
“I don’t need her, when I’ve got my bros, right?” Steve belched loudly and looked rather proud of himself. “Just look at what her slutty best friend did to you. She led you on this whole time and then agreed to go to the dance with that Dallin jerk.” Steve smacked his lips together. “Who needs ‘em? Am I right?” Steve asked. “She hurt you, man. Let my friend here help ease your pain.” Steve shoved his drink toward Brent.
Thomas eyed the bottle carefully. “No thanks.”
“What’s wrong with you, man? All the guys have noticed you seem off. Different. I’ve never known you to turn down a drink,” Steve said, his words bleeding together. He tripped over a rock and scratched his head when he looked back, not comprehending what had happened.
“You really can’t hold your liquor, can you?”
“Course I can.” Steve gave him a sloppy smile. “Whatever, if you won’t help me drink away my sorrows . . . you can go.” Steve clutched the bottle to his chest and leaned heavily on a tree. “Just don’t expect the guys to want to party with you anytime soon.”
Thomas stood there, weighing his options before extending his arm for the bottle.
“I knew I could count on you,” Steve almost sobbed, releasing his grip on the glass container.
Thomas wiped the top clean and then took a long pull of the drink. He coughed, clutching his chest. “That burns.”
“Will put hair on your chest