“My heart is racing,” I rasp.
“Your heart? Callie, you’re dead. You don’t have a pulse.”
“Oh,” I say. Right. Muscle memory, but wow, is it a strong memory.
The train races closer, not slowing or relenting in any way. The driver can’t see us.
“But it feels like that, like my heartbeat is speeding up,” I say to Leo, with a nervous trill.
He laughs. “Relax into it, Callie. Trust me, you only die once.”
I realize how silly I sound—I know I’m imagining the heartbeat, a leftover memory. But I can feel it. The heartbeat, the panic . . . I can taste that on-the-edge coppery adrenaline that I love so much. I always get this rush, just when I’m about to do something that could—
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“No choice,” says Leo darkly, and then there’s an intense pull from the sides of my body, like the worst kind of running cramps—he’s taking my energy. An eruption of fear flashes through me as a blue light streams from the spot where we’re standing, streaking for the train.
“No!” I scream as loud as I can. Someone crashes into us, shutting down the blue light and catapulting us off the tracks. Reena.
“Portal!” she hisses at me.
“Where?” The three of us are rolling down the edge of the tracks as the train whizzes by, mercifully untouched.
“Somewhere safe.”
I close my eyes: cream walls, peach rug, daffodil bedspread, lace curtains. Carson. I lift my hand, full of energy, and in a flash, Reena and I are tumbling through the portal I’ve created, out of the way of the train and Leo’s intensity, and onto my best friend’s bedroom floor.
Sixteen
“NICK, JESUS,” SAYS CARSON. She’s extra pissed if she’s taking the Lord’s name in vain. She rolls her eyes. “Did you drive like that?”
“You said to come,” he says. “I’m here. And now you’re giving me a hard time?”
I stand up and help Reena to her feet. My heart is still racing from Leo’s attempt to harness my energy and create a catastrophe.
“What just happened?” I ask Reena.
She smooths out her long dark hair. “Leo’s excited by all the energy you have,” she says lightly. “He went a little overboard.”
“A little overboard? Was he really trying to stop a train?”
She laughs. “I know, it sounds nuts, but your energy creates new possibilities for all of us. He got carried away.”
I bite my lip, thinking that’s the understatement of the year. But Reena is so calm, so collected. Am I overreacting?
“Do you think he would have succeeded?”
“Doubtful.”
That’s hardly comforting.
“Well, thanks for saving me,” I say.
“I didn’t save you. Nothing would have happened to you. I just saw that you were getting scared. He shouldn’t push you to do things you’re not ready for.”
“I did get scared,” I say, feeling sheepish and a little cowardly. I never backed away from an adrenaline rush before, but something about Leo sets all my nerves on edge.
She smiles. “It happens. So where are we?”
“My friend Carson’s room.”
Reena’s eyes light up as she takes in our surroundings, and I’m glad she’s so interested in my life and getting to know the people in it.
“And that is . . .” Reena points at Nick, who looks haggard and, well, wasted.
“My boyfriend, Nick,” I say quietly. “He’s . . .”
“ . . . having a hard time with things,” says Reena, filling in my pause.
“Yeah,” I say.
“He’s really cute. Too bad he wasn’t with you in the car.”
I stare at her.
She waves a hand. “Kidding. But he is hot.”
“He’s looked better.”
“Grief is disheveling. So what’s he doing in your best friend’s bedroom?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.
“Oh, no,” I say hastily, realizing what she’s thinking. “It’s not like that. I mean, I don’t know why he’s here, but Carson and Nick would never—”
“It’s a séance,” says Reena, interrupting. “They’re trying to call you back.”
I focus on the details then. The glow from the more than twenty candles in Carson’s room is otherworldly. She’s sitting cross-legged on the floor at the end of her bed, on top of the peach shag area rug we picked out together at Urban Outfitters. Spread in front of her is a full-on mystic setup: crystal ball, Ouija board, and an old-looking book called Summoning the Spirits.
Nick starts to sit across from her, but Carson stops him.
“Clean yourself up first,” she says, pointing to the hallway bathroom.
Nick grumbles but goes. I hear the water running, and I hope a splash in the face will sober him up.
“This girl is serious,” says Reena.
“Yeah, she is.”
I’m a little protective of Carson; I’m not sure if Reena’s making fun of her. I walk over near my best friend.
“Cars, what are you doing?” I say out loud.
I settle onto the floor across from her and study my best friend. Carson is right there. Her face is sad but determined, and I realize something: I left her. And my goal with this haunting thing? It’s to leave her again, to move on to Solus and never ever see my friend go to college, get a job, get married, maybe have kids.
“I’m so sorry, Cars. I always thought we’d be rocking on the porch together with white hair one day. I’d come back if I could.”
And though it was only a whisper, her eyes pop open.
“Did you hear me?” I ask, louder this time. “Carson?”
She doesn’t respond, but she looks around the room as though she’s truly seeing it for the first time. Then she opens the book in front of her and flips to a page that’s been dog-eared. She’s concentrating on the words when Nick comes back in.
“Sit down,” Carson orders. He looks at her New Age circle and bursts out laughing. He rocks forward and back in that drunk way, and for a second I’m incredibly disappointed. This isn’t like him. I wish I had the ability to grab his shoulders and shake him until his teeth rattle. I’ve never been this angry with him.
I glance back at Reena. “He’s not normally like this.”
“No judgment,” she says. “Losing someone is tough.”
Nick stares at the circle for a moment, and I wonder if he’s going to sit where I am, but he doesn’t. Maybe he senses me here? He settles in on Carson’s left side and closes his eyes.
“Oooommm,” he hums.
“What are you doing?” Carson snaps.
“Aren’t we chanting or something?” he asks.
“This isn’t yoga class. We are summoning Callie’s spirit.”
“Right, right,” says Nick, a patronizing smile on his lips. His eyes are half closed—he looks so out of it.
“We’re going to bring her back,” says Carson, her voice determined. “I need you to take this seriously and stop goofing around.”
“Cars, I showed up, didn’t I?” says Nick, slurring his words. “I must be freaking crazy for doing any of this, for even letting you believe that it’s possible. . . .”
He stops and drops his head forward for a moment, and I think he might confess that he’s felt my presence—I know he has. But he just looks up at Carson and says, “I came because you asked me to.”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known you were drunk. You’re lucky you didn’t kill someone on your way over here.”
Nick puts his hands over his face like it pains him to hear her voice. “You don’t know what I’m dealing with!” I can hear the anger underneath his words.