Grave Possession (Wraith 3) (7 page)

“Ever.”

College life took over. Class, sleep, eat, studio, class, eat, sleep, studio. Wash, rinse and repeat. By late September, the structured rhythm made things easier and the homesickness less. When we did have breaks, Ava and I often roamed our new city, embracing the independence.

“Can we go in? I’m looking for a gift for my mom,” Ava said, stopping in front of an art gallery.

“Sure.”

It was more than a gallery – a co-op for the students to sell their artwork and earn some extra cash. I followed Ava into the brightly lit shop.

“Jane!”

I spun and saw Tony, the boy from the party a couple weeks ago, behind the counter. “Hey! You work here?”

“Yeah, part of my scholarship. I have to work 10 hours a week. The perk is that they accepted my artwork.”

“Will you show it to me?” I surveyed the room and tried to determine what might be his. Nothing popped out, but he led me to a series of canvases on the wall. The first one was a small blond boy holding a toy rocket ship. A perfect snapshot in time. I looked closer and saw tiny, almost imperceptible brush strokes. “Wait, these are paintings?”

“Yes.”

“They look like photographs.”

“I try to capture the realism.”

“Try?” I studied another one. It looked just like a photo. Tony’s level of skill was at a whole other level than anything I’d seen before. “You totally succeeded. These are amazing.”

“Thanks. I don’t sell a lot because they’re priced high.”

“They should be. I can’t imagine how long each one takes to create.”

“I’m faster than you’d think.” He smiled. “Oh, customer, be right back.”

Ava browsed across the store, checking out the smaller gift items. I couldn’t take my eyes of Tony’s work. I’d never seen anything like it. One was of a girl’s feet, as though she was lying on the ground. Her big toe had a chip in the blue polish. A slash of dirt marred white skin on the top of her foot. Imperfectly perfect.

“Why art school?” I asked when he came back over. “Shouldn’t you be up in New York pursuing the dream?”

He shrugged. “I promised my dad I’d go to college. He never went and it’s sort of a big deal for him.”

“That makes sense.”

“Luckily, he works here – got the job when I first showed an interest in art as a kid. I get a discount on top of the scholarship. Otherwise, I don’t think we could afford it.”

“That’s really nice.”

“Yeah, Pop’s a cool dude. Oh,” he said, “I have a gallery show coming up in February. Will you come?”

“Definitely.”

“I’m terrified no one will show up!”

“Unlikely.”

Ava walked up and held out two different handmade fabrics. “Which do you like best?”

“Blue.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

“Did you see Tony’s stuff?” I pointed to his artwork once he walked off to help someone on the other side of the gallery. Ava glanced over and then did a double take, her eyes bigger than normal behind her glasses.

“Wow, are you kidding? This stuff is incredible.” She walked closer and held out her hand to touch it but stopped herself. Touching paintings was a big no-no and Ava knew better. “It looks so real.”

“Like a photograph.”

“It makes me feel so ridiculously inferior.”

“Right? Me, too,” I agreed. “Feeling less than is an emotion I’ve become increasingly familiar with.”

“Maybe I can see your work sometime,” Tony said, ringing up Ava’s purchases.

“Maybe,” I said. “I’d feel sort of weird. Your stuff is really good.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “Jane’s being modest. She’s been using a lot of found materials lately. And the color red. Red. Red. Red.”

“I like red, okay? Picasso had his blue period. I’m in my red one.” I stuck out my tongue. “My personal stuff is okay, I guess. But sculpture? That class is killing me,” I laughed. “Trying new classes is more complicated than I thought.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Tony said, handing Ava her package. “That’s the one thing I’ve learned lately. Reach inside and you can find your inner creative strength – draw on that energy and follow the path it leads you on.”

We left Tony and headed back in the direction of the dorm. “What do you think about Tony’s little speech? Seems a little out there.”

I shrugged, “I guess I know what he means. Like Jeannie using her gift in her artwork – incorporating her premonitions and readings. Or Connor and his tagging. It always ties back to what’s going on in his life. It’s like a roadmap to his psyche.”

“So what does that mean about you?” she asked. “Madam Rosemarie did mention a red aura. Maybe that has something to do with it.”

I shrugged but I knew the answer to this, or suspected at least. Unfortunately, it led to a rabbit hole I wasn’t ready to travel down yet. At least not with anyone but Evan.

The next Sunday, I exited my dorm and found Connor waiting for me in shorts and running shoes. I brushed past him without speaking and started my route. He followed, easily catching up to my pace. Side by side, we jogged through the city.

Apparently this was going to be a thing.

We passed fountains and historic markers. Bars and churches. Nothing dead crossed our path and we didn’t stop this time, other than to cross streets and avoid pedestrians. I kept my eyes forward and not on the sweat soaking into his shirt or the way his calves were lean and tight. At the intersection near my dorm, he ran off without a goodbye.

Okay, then.

The same thing happened the following week, except I tripped over a dismantled brick in the sidewalk. Connor caught me before I face-planted.

“Thanks,” I said, wiping my hands on my shorts.

“No problem.”

We continued running.

On the third week, rain fell in sheets and I decided to give my student center gym card its inaugural swipe. The brand new facility had everything from weights to cardio machines, a basketball court and pool. After a few tries, I managed to figure out the treadmill and adjusted the levels for a five-mile run. K-thud. K-thud. K-thud. My feet fell into a loud, caveman-sounding rhythm. For some reason all five televisions hanging over the machines were locked on sports channels. No thanks. My eyes shifted to the weight area.

Oh my.

I’d never been one to ogle guys that much. Connor and Louis both had that skinny thing going on in high school. Connor’s height and looks had always made him noticeable, but I’d never obsessed over a guy’s body that much. But now? Maybe my hormones were raging or I was really, really bored, but I couldn’t stop stealthy observing the guys around the gym. Either something happened to boys when they left high school or something had happened to me. But man, the guys in the gym were a complete distraction.

My feet pounded on the rotating belt, but I still heard the loud clink of the weights and the occasional grunt. I focused on a couple of guys in the back who were alternating between lifting weights and pull-ups. Their back muscles rippled beneath their shirts and, crap… see? Hormones. It had to be. I shifted my focus on the TV. Stock car racing should be interesting to learn about. At least the guy on ESPN seemed pretty stoked.

The machine next to mine turned on, the panel of lights coming to life. I keep my eyes forward, well, occupied across the gym on a pair of taut shoulders. That is until I noticed the flash of a tattoo on my neighbor’s wrist. That same design hung on a medallion on my neck.

“Hey,” Connor said, fidgeting with the buttons and flashing me an innocent grin. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I don’t expect to see you ever exercising, to be honest,” I shot back. Sweat dripped from his temples. “Why are you so sweaty?”

“I’ve been working out over there with my roommate.” He pointed to the far corner of the gym that I’d been watching all morning.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at myself. Perfect. I’d spent half my workout unknowingly ogling my ex. Pathetic. He rested his hand on the support rail and I noticed the tell-tale black paint stains under his nails.

“Tagging again?”

“Huh?”

“Your nails.”

He lifted up his hand. “Yeah, I found a group to work with. There’s some cool spots around town. But then there’s one place near the beach, I’m doing this other thing – maybe I can show you some time.”

“Maybe.” Was this his plan? Luring me in with normalcy? On my own ground? He would come out and jog with me, chat me up and ask me out? No way. No chance. I had Louis. I had self-preservation. I had secrets.

I made a show of plugging my ears with my buds and turned up the loud beat of Louis’ band, Radioactive. I focused on my run. Not him.

*

“This is the perfect way to see your boyfriend after 10 weeks, right?” I said, showing off my costume to the girls.

“I don’t really get this zombie thing,” Amber said from the doorway. She might not understand it, but she looks the part. Gnarly pieces of fake flesh hung off her face and a bloody oozing wound covered her neck. “I’m a little more into the slutty catsuit Halloween costume. Who the heck are you supposed to be, Jane?”

“Zombie Frida Kahlo,” I said, tucking my hair into a bun. “I was going to wear this before I heard about the theme, so I improvised.”

“We get into the haunted house for half price if we dress up for zombie night,” Ava said. She’s not a zombie but a hunter – some badass girl from “The Walking Dead.” “Where’s Kelsey?”

Amber shrugged. “I haven’t seen her in days. If she’s coming home, it’s at night or when I’m at class.”

“She must be back on with the boyfriend, then?”

“Who knows? The girl is truly an enigma.”

My phone buzzed on my bed. “It’s Louis,” I said, smiling despite myself that he’s finally here. I carefully picked it up, trying not to smear my makeup. “Hey, babe. You here?”

“About that.”

“About what?” I ducked out of the room and into the hallway for privacy.

“We got a last minute call for a show tonight. A pretty big one for Halloween. We couldn’t pass it up.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” My enthusiasm for the night evaporated. I’d only been willing to go to the haunted house because he would be with me.

“It wasn’t even really my call. Group vote.”

“No, I understand,” I sighed, kicking my toe against the wall. “I just miss you, you know?”

“I miss you, too.

When I re-enter the room and toss my phone onto the bed, Ava frowned and said, “What happened?”

“Louis isn’t coming.”

“That sucks,” she said. “I know you were looking forward to seeing him.”

Amber studied me for a minute and then said, “I have just the solution.” She disappeared for a minute and then came back, a bottle of alcohol in one hand and a jug of juice in the other. “Girls’ night!”

*

From the outside, the haunted house wasn’t that impressive. The house was run by the Shriners and all proceeds went to charity. It wasn’t even a house, it was more like an office building the Shriners called their temple. Currently, the temple was overrun by hundreds of zombies.

“So, we’re going to do this?” I asked, walking toward Amber and the group of boys she’d found the minute we got there. The alcohol made me less upset about Louis, but uneasy about the haunted house.

Ava stopped in the street and said, “Are you afraid?”

“No,” I lied.

“You are! How are you afraid of a fake haunted house?”

“I don’t know. It’s just too dark and there are those people who lurk around. They can’t touch you but you can’t see them and,” I shuddered, “I’ve got no control in a place like that and it just freaks me out a little.”

“You can talk to real ghosts, including having one as a best friend, and fight off evil spirits, but this is scary?”

“Yes.” I opened my mouth to explain but I couldn’t verbalize it. Ghosts made sense to me. Rotting faces and roaming undead triggered some sort of irrational panic.

She rolled her eyes and grabbed my hand. “Well, get over it.”

We joined Amber and the boys and got in line to pay admission. “Hey, Jane!” a zombie with dreadlocks called out.

“Hi, Tony.”

Chained up zombies met us at the front door and lunged and lurched in our direction. Amber shouted playfully but we’re shuttled through a narrow opening into a dark foyer. I bumped shoulders with the people around me and tried to keep a hand on Ava, but it was too crowded and too dark.

“Jane,” Ava called. “You in here?”

“Yes!”

“Don’t be scared,” Tony said from beside me. He smiled through caked-on blood and  guts. “It’s not that bad. Remember they can’t touch you.”

I’d heard that before.

Two guys dressed as prison guards directed us through the first hallway, listing rules of the zombie apocalypse. “The only rule you need to know is always aim for the brain. See you on the other side.”