School Spirits
Page 30
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
He went back to sitting and chewing.
Letting him have a moment, I turned to Romy and Anderson. "So if it was Dex's Nana accidentally raising ghosts, why was your charm in that cave?" I asked Romy.
Grimacing, she took another sip of the tea Maya had made. "I told you, I have no idea. I lost the stupid thing."
From the other end of the couch, Anderson cleared his throat. "Um...I might actually know why. I took the charm."
Romy's blanket slipped off her shoulders as she sat up. "You what? Why?"
Anderson's face was bright red, matching the plaid throw draped around him. "I saw this thing on the Internet about doing a...a love spell." He mumbled the last words so much that it sounded like he said, "abubsmell."
"You did a love spell on me?" Romy said, her "me" becoming a shriek.
"Yes!" Anderson said, tossing the blanket off and getting up to pace the living room. "And I know that's awful, and I shouldn't have, but...I liked you, and I thought it couldn't hurt." He hung his head a little. "So that's why we kissed at the graveyard that night. I'm sorry."
Huh. So Dex and I hadn't been the only ones using our PMS field trip romantically.
Romy slugged Anderson on the shoulder. "You idiot," she cried. "Did you do the love spell in eighth grade?"
"What? No. I did it, like, last month."
"Well, eighth grade is when I started liking you," Romy said, hitting him again. "So no, it wasn't the love spell that made me kiss you in the graveyard. And it's not the love spell making me kiss you now."
With that, she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked his mouth down to hers.
It had been an awful night. A night so full of bad, even Everton and Leslie would've shuddered, and they had once spent a night getting chased by a serial killer on a train. But seeing Romy and Anderson kiss, I smiled. They were safe and happy, and that had to be worth something.
Looking over at Dex, I saw that he was smiling, too. Our eyes met, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
The four of us, plus Maya, sat there for another hour or so before Romy and Anderson decided they should head home. As they walked to the door, I stopped Romy. "Look, I'm sorry about-"
She pulled me into a hug before I had time to finish. "I'm sorry, too."
I wrapped my arms tight around her, hugging her back, and when she pulled away, I hoped she wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. "I'm probably going to take tomorrow off from school," she said. "And you should, too. Maybe you could come over? See if Leslie survives that polar bear attack?"
My throat tightened, but I made myself nod. "Sure. I'd like that."
Once they were gone, Maya went into the kitchen, ostensibly to make some more tea, but really to give me and Dex some alone time, I think.
I counted sixteen of my own heartbeats before he said, "She won't see you tomorrow, will she?"
There was no sense in lying. "No. As soon as my mom gets back, we'll leave."
"And do what?" he asked, looking up at me. "Go to some other town? Fight some other evil?"
"Your Nana wasn't evil, Dex," I said, but he shook his head.
"You know what I mean."
I sighed. "Yeah. We will."
Standing up, clutching the blanket in front of him, Dex met my eyes. "Great. Because I'm coming with you."
"Dex," I said, but he cut me off.
"Look, I know you have to do the big hero thing of, 'no, I must work alone, my love for you can only be a hindrance,' but.... Izzy, what else am I supposed to do?" His voice quavered. "My parents are dead. My Nana is...is dead. And magic and monsters are apparently real. I can't just forget that. And I get that if you more or less adopt me, that will make things weird for us, but we don't have to be... We could just be friends."
I looked into Dex's blue eyes, remembering how brave he'd been. He'd been willing to die to save Romy's life, willing to do it in an instant. He might not be able to run or fight, but Dex had the biggest heart of anyone I knew. And I needed that. I needed him.
"I think there may be a friend-shaped spot for you, yeah," I said softly, and he smiled.
"But first-" I hesitated, chewing my lower lip. "I... I need to show you something."
Turning, I led Dex down the hall to the guest room.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob. "What I'm about to show you, it...it's pretty weird," I warned him.
"Oh, right, because everything else that happened tonight was totally typical." He was going for quippy, but there were tears streaking his cheeks and his voice sounded shaky.
Normally, I would've smiled at his attempt at humor, but what I was about to do was too big for smiling, and Dex must've sensed that. "Sorry," he said, laying a hand on my arm. "I just mean...whatever weirdness there is, I'm prepared for it."
I didn't think there was any way he could be, but I nodded. "Okay, then."
Torin's mirror was covered up when I opened the door, but I could hear him as he said, "Ah, you're back! All hail the conquering hero."
Dex paused in the doorway. "Who was that?"
"You're braced for weird, right?" I asked, moving toward the mirror.
He visibly swallowed, but after a second, Dex nodded. "Braced. Weird. Bring it."
I pulled the canvas down from the mirror, and there stood Torin, leaning against the bed as always. Dex glanced back and forth between the bed in the mirror and the bed in the room before letting out a slow breath. "Okay. Yeah, that is...that is weird, all right."
"Who the sodding hell is this?" Torin narrowed his eyes. "Oh, right. That boy who plays all the video games. The one Isolde fancies."
"Torin," I said warningly, but Dex smiled a little even as his eyes roamed over Torin's mirror.
"Oi," Torin snapped. "Fancy-dress boy, my eyes are up here."
Dex met those eyes, one corner of his mouth still lifted in a half-grin. "'Fancy-dress boy?' This from a dude who dresses like Prince?"
I snorted with laughter and Torin scowled. "Prince who?"
Then Dex laughed, too, and after a while, the sound actually sounded normal and not choked with tears.
"I do not like him," Torin declared, pointing at Dex. "I disapprove of your choice of paramour immensely."
"He's not my paramour," I said, rolling my eyes. "He's my friend."
"Right," Dex said, finally letting the blanket slip from his shoulders. Rolling them as though he were free of a great weight, Dex looked down at me and stuck his hand out. "Friends."
We shook on it, and there was no tingle of magic this time. But that didn't mean I didn't feel anything. Dex's eyes held mine and I knew I should pull my hand back, but suddenly that was the last thing I wanted to do.
"I am going to be sick," Torin muttered, turning away. "Completely, riotously sick right here in the mirror; and let me tell you, that is quite a mess."
"So is this." Dex and I both turned to see Mom in the doorway, but before I could say anything, she strode in, a hammer raised high in one fist. With a shriek, we jumped apart as Mom brought the hammer down as hard as she could on Torin's mirror.
CHAPTER 34
"Mom!" I cried as a few shards flew up, making tiny scratches along Mom's arms. But she didn't seem to feel them. Torin staggered backward, and in the mirror, the table teetered, nearly falling.
For four hundred years, Torin had aggravated and frustrated Brannicks, but he'd always been a part of our lives. I'd always assumed there was some kind of rule that we couldn't hurt him. After all, if he could be destroyed, wouldn't someone have done it by now, to heck with prophecies?
The frame shook, and Torin grimaced. Or at least I thought he did. It was hard to tell what was going on in all those fractured pieces.
Mom stood there, breathing hard, the hammer raised. Blood dripped down her arms, but she didn't seem to notice it. I waited for the glass to fall out of the frame, for Torin to become nothing more than a handful of shards.
There was no flash of light or smell of smoke. None of the stuff you expect when magic is happening around you. Just a soft "pop!" and suddenly Torin was complete again. The glass wasn't even scratched, much less cracked.
"That was uncalled for," he said, straightening his jerkin.
"You lied to me," Mom growled. "You told me you had seen Finley, and then sent me on a wild goose chase while Izzy nearly got killed."
Her gaze moved to me, her face full of anger and worry and something else I couldn't name.
"He was your source?" I asked, pointing at Torin. "You're always telling me not to trust him, and-"
"With good reason," Mom said, and now I understood what was in her voice. She was angry not just with Torin, but with herself.
"Izzy needed a chance to spread her wings, Aislinn," Torin said, giving a bored shrug. "And you needed to get out of her way. She handled herself masterfully tonight. Proved to be a true Brannick."
Mom watched him for a long time. "She's always been a true Brannick," she said at last. Then she strode forward and grabbed the canvas, covering Torin. "We're done," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "We should've been done with him a long time ago."
She turned back, and for the first time seemed to notice Dex. "Who is this?"
"I'm Dexter O'Neil, Mrs. Brannick," Dex said, offering his hand to shake. "And I'm hoping you'll adopt me."
Mom looked back and forth between the two of us before muttering, "I need a drink," and walking out of the room.
In the silence that followed, I raised an eyebrow at Dex. "So...this is my family. Sure you want in?"
Dex looked back and forth between the door and Torin's mirror. "My Nana was a witch who kept me alive by raising evil ghosts. The bar for family dysfunction has already been set pretty high."
Half an hour later, we all sat at the kitchen table-me, Dex, Mom, and Maya. I told Mom everything that had happened at the cave. When I got to the part about Maya handing me the knife, she looked up. "Would you have killed her?" she asked. "If it meant destroying the ghost?"
I thought out it, turning my cup of tea around in my hands. "I don't know," I finally said. I knew it probably wasn't the answer Mom wanted, but it was the honest one. "I don't think so. I think I would've tried to find some other way, no matter what."
To my surprise, Mom smiled and reached out. She didn't quite tousle my hair-her hand moved too roughly for that-but it was an affectionate gesture nonetheless. "You're a good kid, Izzy," she said. "Sometimes that's what being a Brannick means. It's not always about storming in and saving the day yourself. It's about the willingness to do whatever it takes to keep people safe. I still don't like that Torin lied to me-especially about Finn-but-"
"I don't like him either," Dex said, speaking up for the first time since we'd sat down. "Both for lying to you, and just sort of on general principle. For the record."
The corner of Mom's mouth lifted in a half smile. "Good to know. So what are we supposed to do with you, Dexter O'Neil?"