Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [56]
“Does that mean that I’m right that—”
“It doesn’t mean anything,” Brent said, cutting me off. He rubbed his chin. “You timed out how long you were going to wallow?” Brent’s face was incredulous as he shook his head. He hadn’t moved from the fountain, he was leaning forward, his arms resting on his legs. “Grief doesn’t work that way. You know that, right?”
“It does for me,” I replied defiantly, wiping the remaining tears from my face.
“If you say so.”
“What’s to grieve? We’re going to fix this,” I said, inhaling deeply the crisp night air.
I could almost taste the oranges, the avocados, even the flowers. I knew, without a doubt, somewhere on the other side of campus, chrysanthemums were still blooming. In amazement, I looked around, trying to gauge if I could pinpoint the directions of the smells. I could. It was similar to how aware I had been of everything when I projected, but much stronger.
Even though it was nighttime, I could see every detail and every color that surrounded me. Everything was so vivid and intense that I gasped at the beauty of my surroundings, as if seeing it for the first time. Nothing was one simple hue, but made up of subtle shades, highlights, and lowlights. I thought I had appreciated it before, but I realized my human senses had been too limited to recognize its true brilliance.
I sank onto a bench overhung by the branches of a maple tree. Its leaves blazed with color that could have inspired a sonnet; I wished I were a poet and could capture its beauty in words. Heartbeats of the young birds in a nest in the top of the tree made their way to my ears, bringing a smile to my lips.
“It is kind of amazing, isn’t it?” Brent asked.
I nodded distractedly. “Okay, so let’s work on our plan,” I said, putting my problem-solving cap back on. “There’s this really great bookstore down the street from my old school. It should have everything we need to know about astral projection.”
“Well, that would be great if we could get there,” Brent said grimly.
“Can’t we just, like, appear there?”
Brent shook his head. “No, we aren’t genies.”
“Walk there?”
“No can do.”
I let out a puff of frustrated air that lifted my bangs from my forehead. “Why not?”
“Well, we can’t leave Pendrell.”
“Why?” I questioned, feeling suddenly confined. I had never liked rules, and it irritated me that there were still rules even when I was dead.
“I wish I had the answers for you, but all I know is we can’t leave.”
“Is that a fact?” I raised my eyebrows in defiance. “Well, we’ll see about that.” I took off running as fast as I could toward the edge of campus. The wind and speed invigorating me with each step I took. Brent was next to me, jogging backward, easily keeping pace.
“You know, I really don’t suggest trying this.”
“I have to find out for myself. I just can’t accept this on your word alone. You have to at least know that much about me.”
“I do,” he said ducking under a thick branch. “But it’s extremely painful.”
“Maybe for you, but it might not be for me. You can’t be sure.” I continued my sprint and tried to push aside the worry his warning had caused me.
“Maybe not,” he said warily, “But I still advise against it. Don’t be stupid.”
“I have to know for myself,” I explained, halting at the driveway that marked the edge of school.
He groaned. “Why?”
I bit my lip. “Here goes.”
“Wait, Yara,” he said, tugging on my arm. “Please, just listen to me.”
I hesitated for a moment then cackled. “What, am I going to die again?”
“No . . .” he started, but before he could finish I flung myself with all the energy I had toward the other side of the driveway.
With a pain so severe it blinded me, I was hurled backward. I landed on the ground and skidded a few feet. It felt like every bone in my body had snapped, and that my internal organs were twisted and mutilated. If I had been alive, I was sure I would have died, leaving only a pile of gore on the driveway. I opened my eyes and the world around me undulated in harsh, blinding and over-sharp movements,