School Spirits (Hex Hall Novel, A) (17 page)

“S
o…Everton likes Leslie?” Romy asked around a mouthful of popcorn.

“Yeah. Loves her, actually. But that was before the amnesia.”

We were sitting in Romy’s room on Saturday night, a big bowl of popcorn on the floor, two different kinds of sodas on her desk, and all three seasons of
Ivy Springs
sitting beside her TV.

I’d filled in her on what had happened at the cave. Well, the love spell part. Not the me and Dex kissing bit. Romy had told me about her and Anderson finding salt on the grave—and I tried to act very surprised about that—but in the end, both of us agreed that Friday night’s field trips had been pretty successful, all things considered.

Then we’d put in
Ivy Springs
and let the trials of Leslie and Everton distract us from our failure. Romy had already changed into her pajamas—naturally, they had cute little ghosts on them—and I was painting my toenails. Well, trying to. Since I’d never done it before, my feet looked like I’d accidentally stepped into a meat grinder. As I dabbed at the bright scarlet mess, Romy glanced up.

“Whoa,” she said, eyes going wide. “What have you done?”

Sighing, I yanked a tissue out of the box on Romy’s nightstand and began trying to wipe off the worst of it. “I think I used too much.”

Romy laughed as she sat up. “Think? Iz, it looks like you poured half the bottle on your foot. Here, give me that.” She snatched tissues away from me and rummaged in her nightstand drawer until she emerged with a bottle of nail polish remover. I reached for it, but she held her arm over her head. “Uh-uh. You cannot be trusted with dangerous chemicals, clearly. Give me your foot.”

Hesitantly, I stretched out my leg, and Romy doused a few tissues with the polish remover. As she went to work scrubbing the worst of the mess off my right foot, she glanced at me over the top of her glasses. “You’ve never painted your toenails before, have you?”

I thought about lying, but seeing as how I’d somehow managed to get It’s a Bit Chili in Here
between
my toes, I didn’t think Romy would buy it.

“No. My mom is really strict about makeup.”

Giving a low whistle, Romy shook her head. “Never played dodgeball, never been kissed, never used
makeup…”

My face was nearly as scarlet as my toes. Well, my whole foot, actually.

When I didn’t say anything, Romy raised her eyes. “Izzy?” she prompted.

I cleared my throat and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. I hadn’t planned on telling Romy about the kissing, but my stupid fair skin had given me away yet again. “I, um…me and Dex, we—”

Romy sat up so quickly she nearly turned over the bottle of polish remover. I caught it, but she didn’t seem to notice since she was too busy clapping and squealing something that sounded like, “Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod!”

Leaping off the bed, she paused the
Ivy Springs
DVD just as Everton was about to kiss Lila, Leslie’s identical cousin. “I cannot believe we’ve been sitting here for an entire hour, painting nails and watching TV, when you could have been telling me every last detail about yours and Dexter O’Neil’s mega-hot makeout session.”

“It wasn’t like that,” I protested. “It was… Okay, it was exactly like that, but—”

Romy cut me off with another squeal, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “This is so very excellent,” she said, flopping back down on the bed. “So when? Where? How?”

I drew back my now-polish-free foot, wrapping my arms around my knees. “Last night, at the cave, and, um, with our mouths?”

Romy rolled her eyes and hit me with one of the bright green throw pillows covering her bed. “I figured that last part. I just meant did he kiss you first, or beneath that shy exterior, are you secretly a seductive vixen?” She waggled her eyebrows, and now it was my turn to toss a pillow at her.

“He kissed me. Well, he asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I said no, and then we…kissed.”

Telling it like that, it sounded so flat, so uneventful. But I didn’t know how girls talked about this kind of thing. And besides, I kind of wanted to keep it private. It was almost like I was afraid if I shared all the details—how warm his lips had been, the softness of his jacket under my hands—it wouldn’t feel as special anymore. And since it was probably the only time it was ever going to happen, I wanted it to stay special for a long time.

Something must have shown on my face, because Romy’s giddy grin slipped into a puzzled frown. “Why did you make Sad Face?”

Before I could say anything, Romy rushed on. “Was it bad? I mean, I always thought Dex would be pretty good at kissing despite his general spazziness, but I could be wrong, and if I am, just tell me. I know he’s my Boy Best Friend, but you’re my
Girl
Best Friend, and that trumps him—”

I help up my hand like that could stop the rush of words. “No, it was not bad. And…I’m your best friend?” I’d never had a best friend unless you counted Finley. But even though she’d been my sister, and I’d loved her, it wasn’t like we’d ever painted each other’s toenails, and I shuddered to think of what she would’ve said about
Ivy Springs
.

Romy smiled, almost shyly. “Um, duh, of course you’re
my best friend. What do you think all this means”—she waved her hand, taking in the popcorn, the polish, the TV—“if not your initiation into Best Friendom?”

In my head, I could hear Mom’s voice:
These people
are not your friends, Izzy. They are a means to an end, and as
soon as this job is over, you’ll never see them again.

But Romy was my friend. When she’d asked me to spend the night, I hadn’t agreed so that I could pump her for more information about the hauntings. I’d said yes because I’d wanted to hang out with her. To paint nails and talk about boys and watch Everton and Leslie make idiots of themselves.

“Okay, see, there you go with Sad Face again,” Romy said, and I sighed. “It’s just…the kiss with Dex was good. And I like him. Lots. But I can’t exactly do the boyfriend thing.”

Now it was Romy’s turn for Sad Face. “Why not?”

Because I’m a monster hunter and this whole thing was just
a job and I have to tell my mom that Dex isn’t really Prodigium
soon and then she’ll make us leave.

The words were right there, desperate to tumble out of my mouth in one big avalanche of overshare.

Instead I shrugged and said, “I need to concentrate on school. You know. For, um, SATs. And college. And…
stuff like that.”

I expected Romy to argue, but she just sighed and picked up the nail polish remover. “I get that,” she said. “But it sucks. You guys seem like a weird fit at first glance, but I don’t know. I think you’d be good together.”

“Yeah,” I replied.

And then I got off the bed and restarted
Ivy Springs
before Sad Face became Crying Face.

“Isolde. Isolde. ISOLDE.”

Blinking, I sat up. Ugh, another Torin dream. Some-thing I was definitely not in the mood for. “Go’way,” I mumbled at him. “Don’t wanna play dress-up.”

But when I flopped over onto my stomach, I realized I wasn’t in a ball gown. I also wasn’t in a ballroom or on a boat. I was lying on the trundle bed in Romy’s room, and Torin wasn’t in my dreams, he was in her mirror.

Fully awake, I shot out of the bed and made my way as quietly as possible to Torin. My face nearly against the glass, I hissed, “What are you
doing
?”

“Dropping in,” he said, raising his hands innocently. “Isn’t that what blokes are supposed to do? Raid slumber parties?”

“No,” I shot back, my voice barely audible. “At least I don’t think so. But it doesn’t matter.
You
should not be here.”

Behind me, Romy made a snuffling noise in her sleep and turned over. I didn’t think it was possible to be any quieter, but I tried anyway. “Go. Away.”

“I miss you,” he said suddenly. Our faces were very close to each other, and even though I knew it was impossible, I could’ve sworn I felt a puff of breath on my cheek. “You never talk to me anymore. And that?” He pointed to the stack of
Ivy Springs
, eyes narrowing. “Traitor.”

“This is my job,” I told him, ignoring the pang of guilt in my chest. What was wrong with me? I didn’t have anything to feel guilty for. So I chose to watch the show with a real girl my own age instead of a four-
hundred-year-old warlock trapped in a mirror. Surely, that wasn’t anything to feel guilty about. Or at least I thought it wasn’t.
Sassy Miss
hadn’t exactly covered that.

“These people aren’t a job to you anymore, Isolde,” Torin said, voice low. “They’re your friends. And while it causes me actual physical pain to admit this, your mum is right. In the end, getting close to humans can only hurt you.”

I backed away from the glass, but he kept going. “I’ve watched generations of Brannick women get close to regular people. Fall in love, make friends. It ended in tragedy every single time, Isolde. I know you don’t believe a large percentage of what I say, but believe that I have no desire to ever see you hurt. And these people will hurt you.”

Romy rolled over again, and I looked back at her. “Romy is…she couldn’t hurt me.”

“Could she not?” In the glass, Torin walked over to Romy’s desk and opened the top drawer, pulling out something thin and golden.

My heart sank, but I made myself cross the room and open that same drawer. There, hidden under a stack of purple Post-its, was a charm bracelet. There was a ballet slipper and a tiny golden unicorn and horseshoe and what I think was supposed to be a pot of gold. And in between the slipper and the unicorn was a space where, I had an awful feeling, a heart was supposed to go.

I put the bracelet back where I found it, silently slid the drawer closed, and walked back to the mirror. “It makes sense,” Torin said as soon as I was in front of him. “She finds a harmless little love spell somewhere, decides to try it out. And then she tries another spell, and another. And what do you know, she runs a ghost-hunting club, but there are no ghosts. So she works a little hedge magic, does a summoning or two. Just to make things interesting. And then it very quickly gets out of hand.”

I wanted to deny it. To say there had to be some
mistake. But Torin was right. It made total sense.

“What do I do?” I asked, but I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Torin or myself.

“Tell your mum. Or tell that bloody Prodigium Council and let them deal with it. Let this girl know there are consequences for messing about with the unknown.”

Both of those were technically good ideas, but they made my stomach twist in really awful ways. What if it turned out the only way to break this particular spell was to kill her? Mom would do that. If it was the only way, I had no doubt she could. And as for the Council…my cousin Sophie may have been in charge, but she wasn’t there right now. Who knew what those people would do to Romy?

“I can’t,” I said, and Torin watched me with an unreadable expression.

Finally he said, “This is being a Brannick, Izzy. No one said it would be easy.”

And with that, he was gone.

F
irst thing Sunday morning I faked an upset stomach and left Romy’s. She seemed a little down, but I let her keep the last season of
Ivy Springs
, which cheered her up. Instead of home, I headed for the library. Unfortunately, Ideal’s library wasn’t exactly the best resource, and I quickly saw why Mom had needed to drive three towns over to get her books. Looking for anything on “hedge magic” only got me a bunch of volumes on how to grow hedges. Thinking of Dex’s horrible lawn, I wondered if I should check one out for Nana. Then I remembered that everything between me and Dex was kind of awful right now. Besides, I had the case to focus on.

That night, Mom and I went back to that Chinese place, and I told her I was ready to leave. She raised her eyebrows. “Case closed?”

“Almost,” I said. I still hadn’t figured out how to stop Romy. Part of me wondered if I could just talk to her like…like a friend. Or maybe sneak a fake article into
American Teen
that said something like, “Why Hedge Magic and Raising Ghosts Is So Last Year!”

By Monday, I still hadn’t found anything. Dex had saved me a seat on the bus like usual, but he was very careful not to sit too close to me. I think both of us were relieved when Romy turned around and started telling Dex about her and Anderson’s night.

“And there was salt, like, everywhere,” she said, pushing her glasses up. “I mean, that was all we saw, but that has to mean something, right?”

Dex made a sort of choked laugh that he quickly turned into a cough. Romy’s brow furrowed. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just… Anyway, Izzy, why don’t you fill Romy in on our night?”

“She already did,” Romy said, barely suppressing a smile. She winked at me, and I wanted to be able to wink back so badly. Instead, I reached into my pocket. “I left out a part. We also found this.” Before leaving the cave Friday night, I’d searched the floor for that heart charm. I pulled it out of my pocket now.

Romy plucked the charm from my hand, a weird expression on her face. As she studied it, I studied
her
. “Have you seen it before?”

Startled, she raised her head. “I have a charm kind of like this, but it doesn’t look all blackened and stuff.” She handed it back to me. “Maybe it belonged to Mary.”

I don’t know what I’d expected. Not for her to be like, “Oh, right, this is mine! I did some kind of freaky spell at that cave, and whoops! Now we’re plagued by ghosts.” But I’d thought she’d show a little more reaction than that. If anything, she just seemed kind of confused.

We had a test in English and a freaking relay race in P.E., so I didn’t get a chance to talk to her any more that morning. Then she didn’t show up at lunch, so I made up my mind to talk to her during history, only to find out class wasn’t meeting because there was a pep rally for the basketball team. There had been, like, eight in the first season of
Ivy Springs
, but I’d never actually been to one. And I have to admit, my curiosity to see what an actual pep rally looked like almost outweighed my need to know what was up with Romy.

The gym was already full by the time we got there, but Romy and Anderson had saved a couple of places at the very top of the bleachers, just like the night of the basketball game. Dodging other kids, Dex and I carefully made our way up there. At one point, I nearly stumbled and he reached out, catching my hand. It was the first time we’d touched since the cave, and the feel of his hand on mine made me remember his lips on mine, his hands on my back. But the instant I had righted myself, Dex dropped my hand.

It was for the best. Really. Dex and I couldn’t be together, not like that. And I wouldn’t be at the school for much longer. The less I had to miss, the better.

Once we reached the top of the bleachers, I sat by Romy, and Dex went over beside Anderson. Even with two people between us, I was so aware of him my skin felt charged.

Trying to take my mind off of that, I nodded down at the gym floor. “So what exactly is going to happen?” I asked Romy.

She turned to me, surprised. “You’ve seriously never been to a pep rally?”

“They, uh, didn’t do them at my old school. We didn’t have sports.” I was too distracted to sound sincere, but Romy didn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, well, basically, it’s a stupid and pointless ritual wherein we all cheer for our stupid, pointless basketball team. We’ll shout some stuff, the cheerleaders will do a dance, and then the mascot will come out and we’ll shout some more.”

“That sounds…dumb.”

Romy nodded. “It is. Intensely. But it’s better than history, I guess.”

At that, the basketball team, all wearing their
warm-up suits, jogged out into the gym and everyone started hooting and clapping like these weren’t the same guys we saw every single day. About half the kids in the bleachers even leapt to their feet, but since Romy, Anderson, and Dex all stayed seated, so did I.

The band started up, and I saw Adam on the very edge, playing his drum. I’d kept a close eye on him since the locker thing, but so far there had been no sign of Mary. I wasn’t even sure what she was planning for him. Snyder had gotten the frog with the bashed-in head, signaling that he was about to get his head bashed in. Beth had gotten the mangled Barbie a few days before she was nearly hit by a car. Adam had gotten an explosion. A month ago, I would have said a ghost making someone blow up was pretty much impossible, but if Mary could wield a killer microscope and manipulate a car, what
was to stop her from sending Adam sky high? Still, I
wondered how she was going to manage that, exactly?

Dex leaned closer to Anderson. I heard him murmur something, and all thoughts of Adam were forgotten.

Maybe I could try to talk to Dex on the bus. Tell
him…I don’t know, I’d lied about not having a boyfriend. And then I’d felt guilty about the kiss, and that’s why I’d spazzed out. He was probably too smart to buy that, but it was worth a try. God, why were boys so complicated? I suddenly wished I had a ghost to fight right that second. Or a vampire. A werewolf. Heck, I’d even take a gollum, no matter how messy killing one was. Anything to make me feel like me again.

I sat there brooding through the rest of the pep rally. It worked pretty much exactly like Romy had said, and I had nearly tuned it out by the time the giant hedgehog rushed onto the court.

On the other side of Romy and Anderson, Dex
snorted, and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to be sitting beside him, hearing whatever snarky comments he undoubtedly made about the mascot.

I hadn’t realized I was staring at him until he turned his head and looked at me. Romy and Anderson were talking, their heads close together, but for a second it was like there wasn’t anyone but me and Dex. A little smile drifted across his face, and just when I was thinking about returning it, there was a shout from the gym floor.

The hedgehog was wheeling out a big “cannon.” As one of the cheerleaders handed him a sparkler, I leaned over and asked Romy, “What’s the deal with that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, this is the
big finale
every time. He pretends to light the fuse, and then it shoots out glitter and confetti while we all ooh and ahh and pretend he hasn’t done it a million times. On the upside, it means this stupid pep rally is almost over.”

“So it’s not a real cannon?” I asked.

Romy shook her head. “Nope. Just an air cannon.”

“But…” I leaned forward. “It
looks
like a real one. Like that one that’s outside the front of the school.”

The hedgehog took the sparkler as the student body stomped their feet, chanting, “M! E! H! S!” He lit the fuse, and it kindled, smoking.

I sat up straighter. “Did he just really light that?”

Squinting, Romy peered down. “Huh. Yeah. Maybe this is a new part of the routine.”

But the cheerleader who’d handed the mascot the sparkler was staring at the fuse in confusion. Then she started backing up, saying something over her shoulder to one of the other cheerleaders. And the hedgehog, suddenly looking a lot more malevolent than I’d ever thought a hedgehog could, pushed on the barrel of the cannon until it was pointing straight at the band. Or, more specifically, straight at Adam. I saw him drop his drumsticks, face wrinkling in confusion. A group of kids cheered, obviously expecting glitter and confetti, like Romy had said.

Shooting to my feet, I tried to make my way down the bleachers, but I was too high up and there were too many people. Distantly, I heard Dex call my name, but I was too busy trying to get to the floor.

One of the cheerleaders was shouting and pointing at the cannon, and I heard a chorus of shrieks go up from the gym floor. I wasn’t going to make it.

But then, a basketball player darted from the first row of the bleachers, throwing all his weight onto the cannon. The sound its wheels made on the hardwood was awful, but the deafening boom that followed was much, much worse.

Thanks to the basketball player, the explosion
pounded into the far wall of the gym instead of Adam—and all the kids within fifty feet of him. But it didn’t matter. Everything descended into complete pandemonium as kids screamed at and shoved each other, trying to get off the bleachers and out of the gym. I hung on to the railing, inching down the side of the bleachers. Down on the floor, one of the basketball players was holding the hedgehog’s arms behind its back as another boy reached up and tugged the mascot’s head off.

The suit was empty.

As the boy holding the head staggered back, the suit slid through the other player’s arms, pooling onto the floor.

I only
thought
there had been panic before. The screaming got louder, people started shoving harder, and the entire building seemed to quake.

Fear—thick, choking waves of it—rushed through the gym. More than fear, really. Terror. Horror. Dread. All of it pulsing in the air, and somewhere, I knew, Mary Evans was getting stronger.

Much stronger.