“Meredith?” Nathan hesitates as if he’s worried about waking me from a dream. “Meredith? What did you see just now?”
I look over at Ritzi, unsure of how much I should say in her presence. She senses my hesitation and waves away my concern. “Hey, we’re doing a project on the occult. In this town, the weirder the better, right? Nothing you tell me would surprise me right now.”
I point at the ballroom picture in the book in front of me. “I was looking at this picture, and I had a memory. At least I think it was a memory. I’ve had it before. Mercy and Jay, or at least some guy who reminds me of Jay, were dancing at some sort of party thing. They seemed happy together. She was laughing and smiling and wasn’t dancing with him against her will or anything.” I watch Nathan for several long, silent moments, but he’s careful not to betray any emotion. “It’s weird. Whenever I think of them, it’s always Mercy-and-Nate or Nate-and-Mercy. I never thought of a third person in the mix, but here he is. Do you think it’s possible to be happy with two people at once?”
“If you mean do I think it’s possible to love two people at once, then no,” Nathan says. “If you mean do I think it’s possible Mercy was torn between what her head said was her duty and what her heart said it wanted, then yes. In case you didn’t notice, Meredith, you’re repeating that same mistake now.”
I bristle at his suggestion. “Who says it’s such a mistake? You? What do you know?”
“I know Mercy was unhappy, and you’re right on track to follow in her footsteps.”
Ritzi gathers up a bunch of books. She looks embarrassed. I’m not sure if her embarrassment is for me getting into an argument with Nathan over something he knows nothing about, or for herself for being dropped in the middle of an argument. “I, uh, think I better go.” She plans an exit strategy like a champ. “True local ghost stories are our angle, right? I’ll see what I can find in these books. See you guys later.” She leaves as fast as she can, tripping over her own feet to get out of the library.
Nathan and I stare each other down for several long, tense moments before I say, “Mercy could make up her own mind, and so can I.”
“Are you so sure of that?” Nathan challenges. “When was the last time you did something you wanted to do, Meredith, instead of what someone else wanted you to?”
“Before you judge me, Nathan, think about my position and what my father would say. Appearance means everything to him,” I remind him. “I can’t fight that.”
“You mean, you don’t want to fight that.”
I shake my head no, too tired to argue anymore. “I mean, I can’t. Just let it go, okay? I don’t want to fight.”
He forks both hands through his dark hair. “I know, and I feel like an ass for starting anything. I think it’s residual Nate-ness bubbling up. On the plus side, we scared off Ritzi.”
I reach across the table and swat at his arm. “Be nice. She likes you, you jerk.”
Nathan widens his eyes until he looks like a lemur. “Seriously? Says who?”
“Says Ritzi.” I lean back in my chair. “That was my fun-filled walk over here. Fielding questions about your relationship status is about the last topic on my list of things I want to talk about.”
“I bet that was super awkward.” Nathan grins. “I kind of wish I was there to see that. Next time take a video.”
“Just be nice to her, okay?” I request. “I’d hate for her to get hurt because you’re all single-minded, focused on me when I’m not really available.”
“Ah, ‘not really available’ means you might be available.” Nathan jots down research notes before looking up with an innocent smile. “I’m patient. I can wait.”
I shake my head, though I’m not really mad—I just have to play the part. If I’m being honest, his persistence gives me hope that I’ll be able to break out of my box sooner rather than later. If he believes in me, maybe I can believe in myself. “That’s not what I meant.”
“How about that you, me, and that cup of coffee we talked about?” Nathan asks. “We don’t even have to call it a date since, as you’re so fond of pointing out, you have a boyfriend who also happens to be my roommate.”
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“I’m just happy to be around you,” he says. “You talk about missing puzzle pieces. I’ve already found mine.”
How can I stay mad at him when he says stuff like that?
“I’d like to go get coffee, but I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I say. “Jay wouldn’t like it.”
“Forget Jay. What would Meredith like?”
I shake my head again, my ponytail swishing against my shoulders with the motion. “Don’t go there again, Nathan. I’m tired. Please just accept my decision. I’m sorry if you don’t agree with it, but it’s mine to make.”
He looks like he wants to say more but bites his bottom lip to keep it in, which I appreciate. “At least let me walk you back to the dorms. Would Jay be okay with that?”
No, but I say yes anyway.
Instead of saying goodbye at his floor, Nathan sees me to the third floor. We stand outside my door, neither willing to say goodbye, though we really should. I realize that I’m using Nathan to distract me from all the questions swirling around in my mind. Who is the blond guy I keep seeing in these new waking memories? Could he be the past’s version of Jay? Is it more proof that we really are repeating the patterns of the past in the present?
“Are you sure you don’t want to grab that cup of coffee?” Nathan offers. “It’s not too late. I promise to have you back before the dorms go on lockdown.”
As much as I try to play indifferent, I can’t help but smile. “I can’t, but it is tempting.”
“Well, it’s better than a no. I’ll take it for now.” Nathan sticks his hands in his pockets and slouches a little. Finally, he speaks again. Strangely—or maybe not, considering how much seems to piling up in the can’t-just-write-off-as-coincidence category—Nathan says what I’m thinking. “I hope you find the answers you’re looking for tomorrow, Meredith. I really do.”
“So do I, Nathan,” I say. “So do I.”
Psychic Square is the kind of place that kids around Haunting have been telling stories about for as long as they could drive themselves there or con someone with a car into doing it for them. On the surface, it looks like a quaint little touristy village, like something out of the turn of the century or an alpine mountain village. When Mom was alive, she loved to drive down there on the weekend and check out the custom-made jewelry, learn about the healing power of the various crystals and metals used, and get a psychic reading. Dad is like Jay and about as “show me the science and hard facts before I believe” as they come, so Mom always said the psychic readings and trips to Psychic Square were our little secret. I’ve never told Dad. I’ve never told Jay. The trips Mom and I took to Psychic Square are the last little bit of her that is just mine.
Besides the shops, the community graveyard is the place to be on Halloween. Everyone who goes comes back with a “guess what weird and/or creepy thing happened to me in Psychic Square!” story. I’ve never been brave enough to go, though, to be fair, no one’s asked me to tag along either. Halloween is not a fun time of year if you’re sensitive to the other side. Haunting is already overactive. Halloween ratchets that activity level up times a thousand. Once I lost Mom, I lost all interest in coming out to Psychic Square. I’m not thrilled about it now either, but I figure, in a whole community populated by psychics, someone can point Nathan and me in the right direction for help. As much as I hate to admit it, we need answers about the dreams and why they’re bleeding over to when we’re awake.