“Callie.”
Probably my dad, trying to wake me up to tell me that I’ve overslept. But it’s so warm here, so comforting. I don’t want to leave. It’s like I’m floating near the ocean floor, no sound at all except for the gentle call of my name.
“Callie.”
I’m keenly aware of soft, harmonic waves flowing through me from my head to my toes. I snuggle down deeper, encompassed by comfort, compassion, love. I want to stay here forever, wrapped in this cocoon of heavenly bliss. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. I remember once when I was blowing bubbles, watching two of them coming together, bouncing gently off each other until one bounce joined them and they began to merge. That’s how I feeclass="underline" as though I’m becoming part of something else.
Slowly, with a great deal of effort, I open my eyes. I’m in my room. Relief swamps me. Just as I thought. Everything—the Prism, Reena, Leo, my death—was a dream. Thatcher was a dream, too. Sadness sweeps through me with that thought. I miss him. Strange, funny thought.
I widen my eyes, taking in more of my room. I’m not in my bed but in the window seat. I can see everything, and it’s wrong. It isn’t my room of this morning. It’s the room that was a hodgepodge of my past.
“Callie, you’re back.”
I jerk my head around. Thatcher. He’s sitting in my window seat, holding me in his lap, his arms tightly around me. I’m nestled against his chest. It’s firm and solid, like everything else I touch within this room. I have an urge to bury my face in the crook of his shoulder.
“You’re okay?” he asks, his voice rough and raspy as though he’s been repeating my name for a hundred years.
I nod and whisper, “What are you doing here?”
“When I knocked, you didn’t answer.” He looks sheepish. “So I came in. You were lying on your bed, fading. Almost no energy at all was emanating from you. Scared the hell out of me. I’ve been sharing mine with you, trying to get you to respond.” So much concern and worry is in his eyes that I want to weep. “What happened? It doesn’t make sense that your energy would drain away while you’re in your prism.”
Oh, yeah. My prism. Only I wasn’t here, and he is not going to like that. I shrug and try to look innocent. As his eyes narrow, I realize there is no Academy Award in my future.
“What did you do, Callie?” he asks suspiciously.
I shake my head.
“Does this have anything to do with Reena? Was she in here taking your energy?”
“No,” I respond weakly, my energy still tapped out, although I can feel it returning.
“This has something to do with her, though, doesn’t it?”
“It was just some innocent fun.” I cast my eyes downward, not wanting to see his disappointment.
He puts his hand under my chin, forcing up my gaze until his can lock with mine. I feel a strong buzz where his fingers touch my skin, and the gentle pleasure undulating through me increases. His jaw twitches angrily.
“Where did she take you? What did you do?” It’s a harsh whisper under his breath as he drops his hand.
What’s the harm in confessing? He’s going to keep at it until he knows the answer anyway. I decide to leave out the part that I went to Earth on my own. He’s mad enough as it is. “We were at a coffee shop. Just moved some things around.”
“And it cost you.”
“I’ll be okay,” I protest feebly.
Suddenly he’s standing, his arms beneath me, lifting me as though I’m as light as cotton candy. Maybe I am. Instinctively, I clasp my hands behind his neck as he shifts my weight easily and carries me across the room.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Things are really bad if you can’t figure out that I’m carrying you.”
“Oh my God. Did you just make a joke? The always-so-serious Thatcher is teasing me?”
“Don’t know what I was thinking,” he grumbles. His mouth is set in a tight, worried line. A pang of guilt ricochets through me because I ignored his warnings about Reena.
He sets me down gently on my bed.
“Thatcher, Reena’s my friend,” I say, not certain why I don’t want him to know about the others who were there. Instinctively, I know he’d be more than livid if he learned Leo was with us. “We were having fun. She brought me back when I got tired.”
He steps away from me and plows his hands through his hair. “She took a lot of energy from you,” he says, more to himself than to me. “Too much. Way too much.”
“I’m fine. Really, Thatcher, I think I just fainted or something.”
“Ghosts don’t faint,” he says. “What happened was not okay.”
He starts pacing the floor now, clearly agitated.
“Why isn’t it okay for me to have friends?”
“She’s not your friend. Stay here,” he barks, and storms for the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To make sure nothing like this happens again.” Then he strides out, slamming the door shut.
“Thatcher!” I shout, certain that he’s going to find Reena and have a talk with her. Although it probably won’t be a talk. It’ll be more of a shouting match. Oh, God, I should have told him it was Leo, not Reena. He’s mad at her when she’s really innocent in all this. It was Leo trying to take more energy.
I roll out of bed, my energy not fully restored, but revamped enough that I can go after him. But when I step out of my prism, all I see is the cloudy mist again, the emptiness, the gray. He’s nowhere in sight. Although I have no idea where I’m going, I’m determined to find Reena and warn her that Thatcher is angrier than he was before—if it’s even possible to surpass his earlier level of anger.
As I wander along in what seems to be an almost aimless route, I begin to see some grass, a bit of sky, even a pathway. I’m a little afraid, but it’s the good kind of fear. The kind that rushes through me when I’m pushing my limits. The kind I used to crave.
I wonder how I’ll find Reena, or anyone, in this lonely place. But then the mist swirls provocatively around me and suddenly I’m turning a corner and standing in front of a gray door, which has an intimidating wrought-iron gate over it. I hesitate. For all I know, hell and brimstone could be on the other side.
“Callie May,” I say to myself. “You are no chicken.”
Just as I’m about to knock, the door swings open and I jump back, crouching down instinctively. I see a swoosh of dark hair as Reena emerges. The energy in the Prism must work to lead me to where I think about going—it delivered me to Reena’s prism. I start to stand and say hi, but before I make a sound, I hear Thatcher’s voice.
“Leave her alone,” he demands. Such power, determination, and fortitude ring through his voice that I slide back into the crouch, hoping the mist will hide me.
“She’s a big girl,” says Reena. “She can decide who her friends are. Are you bothered because she’s not completely under your spell?”
“What? No,” Thatcher scoffs. They’re both standing in the doorway, just a few feet away from me. They’re staring at each other intently. “Reena, she’s a special case. You don’t know what you’re doing—the damage you could cause.”
“Does this have something to do with her energy?” asks Reena. “She has so much. It seems almost like she’s—”
“Her energy is completely standard,” interrupts Thatcher. But he’s told me that my energy level is high, so why is he lying to Reena?
“We both know that isn’t true,” says Reena.
“I don’t know exactly what you and Leo are doing,” says Thatcher. “But I know you’re up to something—the Guides are watching you.”
“Ooh, the Guides are watching us.” Reena’s tone is mocking. “We’d better run scared now. Oh, wait, we’re already dead. I guess that means we don’t get scared.”