Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [40]
“Good. Let’s go somewhere where we can be alone. I know the perfect place.” He took my hand and tugged me forward.
The moon was full, immersing us in blue beams while a scattering of clouds inked the evening sky. Our lone steps echoed through the stone corridors and cobbled pathways as we wandered hand in hand around campus, ending finally at the new pool house.
“It’s going to be locked,” I warned, as Brent walked around the glass building, heading toward a side door.
“Oh, ye of little faith . . .” he smiled broadly, bringing a key out of his pocket and dangling it in front of me. “I might have borrowed this from Coach Tait.”
“And is he aware that you have that?” I laughed, as he unlocked the door.
“He asked me to come back and clean up the bricks and towels after practice, and since it would be locked, he let me borrow his key. It’s a shame I haven’t seen him yet.”
“That is a shame,” I agreed, walking through the door he held open for me. It was a shade darker in here than it was outside and my eyes squinted slightly to make out the shapes in the room.
“I would turn on the lights, but then we might get caught,” Brent explained as he followed me into the room.
Surprisingly enough, there was still enough light to walk around by. Sconces on the walls glowed dimly, providing enough light that it was possible to maneuver through the room without fear of falling into the pool. I was grateful. I didn’t feel like trudging through campus in a sopping wet formal dress.
I made my way over to a plastic lounge chair, which squeaked in protest as I sat on it.
“So talk.” I dropped my purse beside me on the chair and leaned back on my hands.
Brent held up a finger and walked toward the locker room. The sound of his footsteps echoed around the room, and I looked around absently while I waited for him. I noticed vaguely that a banner had been set up for tomorrow’s pre-season swim meet against Sierra Academy, Pendrell’s arch rival. Brent would be swimming in that and I planned to take advantage of the chance to admire him working in his natural habitat. He was fantastic eye candy, and I had earned the right to a few cavities.
The room felt cold and I rubbed my hands together for warmth. A sudden feeling of being watched crept over me. I wasn’t alone in the room—I could smell the musky scent of the second ghost; he had followed us here. I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and glanced around the room, not seeing anything.
Brent came back with two cups filled with purple liquid and I attempted to look calm. “Grape juice,” he said, handing me one of the cups. “I had a feeling we might be coming here tonight,” he confessed with a grin. “I kept this in the coach’s fridge. Cheers.” He clanked his plastic glass against mine.
I lifted the cup to my lips prepared to drink when I lost my grip and it fell, spilling across my dress and crashing to the floor. I cursed at my clumsiness wiping the excess liquid from my lap and watched the juice stain the floor.
“More shaken than I thought,” I said sheepishly.
“I think you need this more than I do,” Brent said extending his cup to me. My hands were unsteady as I reached for it. Brent smiled softly and shook his head. “You’re a mess. Let me help.” He brought his cup to my lips, the cup shaking, a sheen of sweat forming along his brow. The plastic cup pressed against my lips and I drank down the grape juice gratefully.
I coughed at the bitter aftertaste. “That might have fermented.”
“Maybe,” he laughed lowering the cup. “But you probably need more sugar in your system to keep from going into shock. One more drink.” I frowned at him as he tilted the cup toward me, but I took another drink anyway, grimacing as I swallowed. “Feel better?” Brent asked, bringing his arm around my shoulder.
“Not from the drink,” I choked with a smile. Then, being serious, I answered, “I think so. It’s been a bad night. How are you?”
“There aren’t really words to describe what that was like,” Brent said setting down his cup and loosening his tie.
“Was it your brother?”
Brent shrugged