Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [35]
“You’re not just able to see ghosts . . .”
I cut her off. “I haven’t really seen ghosts, just fog like stuff. And it seems to come and go.”
Cherie gave me the evil eye. “You can see ghosts,” she reiterated. “And you can communicate with them, too.” The light of understanding twinkled in her eye. “You’re going to be a Waker, aren’t you? Just like your grandma. Your abilities are developing!”
I smoothed down the wrinkles on my bedspread thinking the moment that I had dreaded had come and it wasn’t nearly as bad as I had thought it would be. “Yeah. Apparently I am.”
Cherie’s eyes glistened with glee. “Frickin’ awesome!” She twisted a lock of her hair around her index finger. “So how are you handling this? It isn’t every day your worst fear becomes a reality.”
I sighed. “I know.” I averted my eyes to the corner of the room, noting the need to vacuum, allowing myself to really think before I responded. “I’m actually doing better than I expected.”
Cherie didn’t say anything but I could see her almost shaking with excitement.
I shook my head with a wry grin. “So what’s the plan? What do I do about the ghosts?”
“I’m not sure.” She gave me a confident smile. “We’ll think of something. I promise.”
****
The following afternoon I found Cherie in our room, unpacking red candles from the huge box she had been storing in the back of her closet. A thick book was open on the floor next to her and she was crossing off items from a list as she gathered them. As soon as she saw me she dropped her list and grinned, patting the spot on the ground beside her.
“I think we need to help you grow comfortable with your gift,” she stated unceremoniously.
I groaned as I sat down next to her and leaned against her bed. “And how do we do that?”
Cherie flipped the page on her book. “We have to desensitize you so you’re not freaked out by them anymore. Then when you see them you can just order them away or something.”
I stared for a moment in surprise. “You think I can do that?”
“I hope so,” she said, turning back to her book. “I think your grandma said the stronger you get, the more control you have over your interactions with ghosts. She said at first she was nervous, but she made herself be around them. It helped strengthen her.”
“So how do I do that?”
“I’m throwing a formal dinner party for our closest friends tonight.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad.” I wrapped my shoe lace around my finger. “How is that supposed to help?”
“It’s not the party that’s helping, it’s the location. I’m having it in the old pool house.”
Fear washed through me. “Why there?”
“It’s the most haunted place on campus. So if a ghost is trying to communicate with you, it would be the best place for that to happen.”
“Maybe I should ease into it a little more.”
“No, you have to learn how to deal with this and fast. What better way than surrounded by your friends? The ghost won’t try to hurt you if we’re all with you. What’s not to love— food, friends and a little training in your family business. It’s a win-win.”
“And it’s formal because?”
Cherie pointed to a slinky black dress hanging in her closet. “It’s formal so I have an excuse to wear that in front of Steve. You’re going to come aren’t you?”
I bit my lip and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the uneasy twisting in my insides before I nodded. Cherie clapped her hands and squealed.
I didn’t know what to say, so I sat on my bed and watched as she began going through her mp3 player to create a playlist for the party.
“I’m throwing your bad musical taste a bone; I put ‘Can’t Stop Dreaming of You’ on the list. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”
“Someday my music will grow on you.”
She smiled as I helped her load up the black candelabras, whose dangling beads tinkled as I loaded them into several small boxes. The red candles followed and Cherie picked up the box, instructing me to come to the pool at exactly nine o’clock.
****
I was pretty much useless the rest of the evening while Cherie was gone, preparing for the party. I attempted to write my mom and dad an email, but had a