Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [33]
The day had been trying. The brief run in with the ghost was troubling but it was added to by other nuisances: I had spilled my soda at dinner, felt like I was being followed once, and found I couldn’t find the taro root powder Brent had given me. I was kicking my legs in the water when Brent finally noticed me and swam over.
He gave me a hesitant smile. “If Steve sent you . . .”
“He didn’t.”
Brent lifted his elbows onto the concrete. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No problem.”
“Really?” Brent hoisted himself out of the water, his wet hair splattering me with small droplets. My eyes followed the water trailing down his muscled chest.
I looked away. “Yeah.”
“Thanks— I think you’re the only person I’ve spoken to today who hasn’t assumed Phil’s suicide was overly traumatic for me.” He seemed to be sincere but he had to be lying.
I decided not to tell him I was worried about that too. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, but I’m not going to push, Brent.”
“I’m fine.” Brent got a strange look in his eyes. “Thank you for checking on me. You’re pretty swell.”
I swallowed a laugh. “Gee, thanks.”
Brent leaned in close and I knew he was going to kiss me. His lips were so close they moistened mine with the excess pool water still clinging to his face, his breath warming my mouth. My eyes fluttered closed before he pulled back quickly and grimaced. I briefly regretted the onions on my hamburger at dinner— then a gust of wind brushed past us and something whacked me on the head, scratching my cheek as it fell.
“Ow,” I complained lifting the potted palm tree that normally stood in the corner from off my head. The magic of the moment shattered, I stood and righted the plant while rubbing my head.
“Lousy timing,” Brent said, his eyes surveying the room.
My lips twitched in a grin. “Yeah, stupid wind.” I considered sitting down beside him again, but Brent had already slipped back into the water.
“I better finish these laps. Coach has been on me, saying swimming should be my priority, not cross-country.”
I nodded, letting him know I understood. I leaned against the glass walls of the pool house, letting my fingers stroke a leaf of the kiss-preventing plant when the temperature around me plunged drastically. Glancing at Brent, I checked to see if he had noticed the sudden chill, but his swimming rhythm hadn’t changed.
I knew a ghost was near. My hands felt suddenly frostbitten, my teeth chattered, and the glass nearest me fogged. Sweat trickled down my neck and my lungs felt like they were caught in a trash compactor.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to stop the panic curdling my stomach. Except for scaring the crap out of me, the last time I had seen the ghost it had only tried to relay a message to me; before that it had saved me from the lightning. My pulse picked up when I also remembered it had attacked me and Brent. My ghost seemed to have conflicting agendas. One moment it was trying to kill me and the next it was saving me. It didn’t make any sense to me. I bit my lip as I thought back to Vovó’s teachings. She had always said there were several kinds of spirits: some meant to hurt us, others were trying to communicate with us, a few were confused and could become violent, and some just messed with people because they were bored.
I mulled over the idea of it being a confused ghost, but that didn’t seem to fit. The encounter in my room was different from the one in the shower— well, except the scaring me part. There had even been a distinct smell in each case. What had attacked me had been the dark mist, smelling of chlorine, and what I had seen recently had seemed lighter, with an almost alluring scent. My nose immediately started sniffing for the chlorinated smell and it was faintly there, but no more than it had been when I first walked