“No, I’m not, Professor Lewis.” Jay throws the professor one of his good-natured, golden-boy lopsided grins, expecting it to fix everything. “The bell is still going. I’m right on time.” He slides into his usual seat next to me and gives me a wink as if I’m in on his troll-the-teacher routine, which I definitely am not.
Professor Lewis’s lips thin into a tiny line. I can tell he’s just itchy to tell Jay off, but no one tells Jay off—especially if they expect my dad to decide to give them tenure or not. “Good morning, people. I’d like to start our new unit off with a group project on Haunting’s history. Since some of you are not from our lovely state, this will be a great way to learn about your current home, and it gives me a break from lecturing day in and day out since each group will present in front of the class on what they’ve discovered.”
“How many people count as a group?” Jay asks.
“In this instance, a group means three,” Professor Lewis says. “And I mean three people total, Mr. Jameson, not three classmates plus you.”
“Picked or assigned?” Jay fires off another all-important question. I know where he’s going with this. If we get to pick our own group, he’ll pick me, whether or not I want to be in his group. It’s a given we’ll be together. All to make sure his good girl keeps being good. I don’t know where that leaves Nathan, let alone Ritzi, but those are the two other people I’d want in my group of three if we got to pick our groups.
“Assigned,” Professor Lewis says. “I don’t have time for petty school politics or popularity contests. You’ll work with who I say you work with, end of discussion.”
“But—” Jay starts, only to be cut off by Professor Lewis.
“What part of ‘end of discussion’ don’t you understand, Mr. Jameson?”
“I’ll let you know once I hear the group assignments, Professor.”
Professor Lewis looks down his class roster and calls out names at random. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath till I let it out in a big sigh of relief when he calls “Group number three: Nathan Vale, Meredith Monroe, Ritzi Carmichael.” Jay ends up with Sally Jenkins and Roberto Tally. Not a bad group by any stretch of the imagination, but not the one he was expecting. His hand shoots up.
“Do you have a problem, Mr. Jameson?”
I got to give Professor Lewis credit for keeping his voice so level and even.
“I need to switch groups,” Jay says.
“Sorry, not going to happen,” Professor Lewis says. “All group assignments are final.”
“Then I need you to bend the rules and make a group of four. I need to be in Meredith’s group.” He leans forward in his desk; his eyes, face, expression, and body language drip intensity. I squirm in my seat. I’ve rarely seen him this intense, and never over me. Is the thought of being apart from me that upsetting? This is a different side of Jay. A side I’m not sure I like.
“Sorry, Mr. Jameson, the rules still hold. Now, time to get into your new groups, people. It’s assignment time.” Professor Lewis motions for us to push our desks together, and we do. I can tell by their bright expressions that Ritzi and Nathan are excited about the group assignment. Jay gives me a dramatic, longing look before he drags himself across the room to sit with Sally and Roberto.
“Each group will have three weeks to prepare their presentation,” Professor Lewis continues. “I expect extensive research notes and a paper to go along with your in-class presentations. All the directions are on the papers I’m passing out now.” Professor Lewis drops assignment packets on each of the desk clusters. “Make the past come to life, people. That’s a requirement, not a request.”
I glance down at our assignment. I have that same whooshing vertigo feeling, but, this time, I feel like I’m going to throw up. I cover my mouth and notice my hand is shaking. I’m not the only one who notices.
“Meredith?” Nathan puts his hand over mine. He means it to be comforting, but it only makes me shake more. “What it is? What’s wrong?”
I jab an unsteady finger at our paper. “1880s Haunting and the occult. Do you know what this means?”
“What? A lot of rich, Victorian people believed in the supernatural.” Ritzi shrugs. “It was way trendy back then to do séances and take spirit photographs and a million other things. This will be a piece of cake to research. Don’t worry, we got this in the bag, Meredith.”
I shake my head. “No, you don’t understand. It also means we have to go to graveyards and the psychic shops in town.” I swallow hard to keep the bile down. “I hate those places. They’re too busy.”
Nathan frowns as if he can tell I’m not telling the whole truth. “Busy how?”
I rub my arms as a sudden chill overtakes me. It feels as if someone ran their ghostly fingers down my back. “There’s just too much history in this town. It’s spooky. I want no part of the occult.” I didn’t add that despite having a ghost friend and being able to see and talk to anyone on the other side, it doesn’t mean I want to hang around a graveyard. Psychic mediums in a graveyard is like an all-you-can-eat buffet for ghosts. They all rush to you begging for help or to deliver messages to still-living relatives. I want to help. I want them to be at peace. But there’s just too many of them. It’s overwhelming. There’s only one of me and hundreds of ghosts. Everywhere I look I see them. I ignore them as best I can, which is not very helpful of me, but I need to do it. I need to ignore my psychic abilities as much as possible or risk losing my sanity. It’s a choice. I’m not happy with it, but it’s the choice I needed to make for me.
“I think we lucked out project-wise,” Ritzi says, not noticing my long silence. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been into the metaphysical stuff for a while—it’s what first brought me to Haunting Academy—and there’s so much source material to draw from. We could focus on tons of topics. Charles Haunting’s obsession with the afterlife, whether the ghost stories about the town are true or not, if they have their roots in the 1800s, occult symbolism in the hotel building. I think Professor Lewis did us a favor by giving us this topic.”
“I’m game,” Nathan agrees. “You in, Meredith?”
I shake my head. It feels heavy and kind of hazy, like I have a fever I can’t shake. “No, Nate, you don’t understand. I can’t do it. I can’t go back there.”
“Nathan.” He corrects before I realize I’ve slipped up again. He puts a hand on either side of my face and leans in close so I can see the bright blue of his eyes. “Stick with me here in the present, okay, Meredith? You don’t have to go back. You’re right here, right now. You don’t have to go back. Stick with me, okay?”
I close my eyes and take deep, steadying breaths to rein in my thoughts and emotions that threaten to scatter and pull me back to the past. I don’t need that now. As Nathan said, I can control this. I don’t need to go back there. I focus on the pressure of his hands on my cheeks. I let the comfort and safety I feel around Nathan seep into me and wash away the fear. I don’t need to go back there. Just because I now dream of those people from the past doesn’t mean I now need to deal with them while I’m awake. I open my eyes.