Phantoms of the Otherworld (In Spiritu Et Veritate)

by Reed, Zoe

  “This room hasn’t changed a bit,” Camille whispered, quiet enough that it was barely audible even to me.

  “What is this place?” I asked as I took my time walking around the room, studying every painting closely.

  “The studio.” Camille gave a small, wistful smile. “Lacey’s mom was an artist. When I lived here Lacey and I used to spend all day this room, lying in the sun and watching her mom paint. She painted us a lot, and taught us all about art.” Camille pointed to a messy looking canvas leaned against the wall next to her. “Let us finger paint sometimes too.”

  There was no way I could have missed the sadly reminiscent tone Camille’s voice had taken on. “What happened to her?”

  She strode beside me and ran her fingers gently down a painting that hung on the wall in front of us. “There’s no bigger accomplishment for some mutts than killing an Alpha. When you can’t get the Alpha, his mate is the next best thing.”

  “Oh,” was all I could think to say, but then I remembered that Camille’s family had moved away because her dad grew worried about them. “Is that why you left?”

  She nodded. “My dad used to be Beta, like David is now. He never minded until he saw how far mutts were willing to go. It was the hardest thing he ever had to do, leaving his best friend after his wife just died. I threw a fit, too. Lacey needed me, and my dad was taking us away.”

  “How long ago was that?” I asked as I realized I had no idea when exactly Camille had moved to California.

  “Not too long. I was nine, so, nine years ago.” Camille moved a painting so she could sit and lean her back against the wall, and then cleared a space next to her for me. “She was the first one I told that I was gay. Lacey’s mom, I mean. She was like a favorite aunt. I could always talk to her about anything. She was going to help me tell my parents about the whole thing too. That was only a few days before…”

  “I’m sorry,” I sighed sympathetically, and rested my hand on Camille’s knee in an attempt to be comforting. “Is it weird being back?”

  Camille’s eyes wandered cautiously to my hand, and then back up as she shrugged. “It’s actually really nice being back. I like California, don’t get me wrong, but this place has always been home.” Those dark brown eyes ambled to my hand again, and this time she pulled her knees up to her chest, my hand slipping off as she did.

  I tried not to let my disappointment show as I continued the conversation. “How’d you realize so young that you liked girls?” I felt strange talking to Camille about this since our relationship was on such delicate ground, but at the same time I hoped it would open her up to forgiving me and letting things go back to normal.

  The sadness disappeared from Camille’s eyes, and she grinned. “That was actually Lacey’s doing. She used to try so hard to get me to kiss the boys from town, because she’d had her first kiss before I did. She thought I never wanted to because I didn’t know how, so one time she offered to show me.” My jaw dropped as I pictured Camille kissing Lacey, and realizing the look on my face Camille burst into laughter, shaking her head and waving her hands in front of her for emphasis. “No, no, we didn’t actually. Lacey’s the straightest person I know, I think she was just kidding. But I did realize that I would have rather kissed her than any of the boys from around here.”

  “That’s because you’ve always had a secret crush on me,” Lacey teased as she appeared in the doorway. Her eyes dimmed for a few moments as she looked around the memory-filled room, but she quickly pushed it away and turned her glance cheerfully back to Camille and I. “Wesley’s looking for you, he says lunch is ready.”

  Starving and excited to eat, I stood, but Camille stopped me before I could leave the room with Lacey. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “It still hurts,” I said, turning back and watching curiously on as she drew closer. “Now it’s only throbbing.”

  “Let me see.” Without further comment she carefully stretched my shirt back from my shoulder to study the bruise, wincing when she saw it. “That looks pretty bad.” She gently laid her hand across the wound. “And it’s really warm.”

  I knew it was warm and that’s why it was throbbing so painfully, although I would swear Camille’s hand was hotter than my bruise was, but her touch made my heart skip. It had been so long since she voluntarily got anywhere near me. Moments before this she’d even shrugged off my attempt at comforting affection. I couldn’t help but wonder where the sudden complacency had come from. I met her eyes with my own, preparing something to say or ask, but she looked away and hastily replaced my shirt to my shoulder, her cheeks flushing red like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  “We’ll get you some ice while we eat,” she said as she turned and left for the kitchen, as usual avoiding the one topic I wanted to bring up.

  I stood there bewildered, and stared after her for a few moments. So she would touch me as long as I pretended not to notice? I didn’t understand it, and the touch only left me craving more. She was punishing me. That had to be it. She was trying to play games with my head so I’d feel the way she had. It was cruel, and confusing. Either that, or she just couldn’t make up her mind. In any case, I’d try not to care. She was talking to me, laughing with me, touching me. At that moment, I couldn’t have asked for more.

  “Don’t forget that homework tonight is questions twenty through fifty on page four-oh-three. Also, questions one through fifty on page four-sixteen.” I watched my new math teacher, Mr. Werner, write our homework assignment on the white board as the students began to file out of the room. “Miss Zade, can I see you up front?” I continued toward the exit, unaccustomed yet to being called anything but Walters. “Miss Zade,” he repeated.

  Finally realizing that the teacher was talking to me, I redirected my route from the door to the front desk and sighed, not just because I was overly ready for lunch, but also because of the already excessive homework load. That’s what I got for enrolling in a private school. My teacher was fairly young, and while I’d already heard plenty of the girls in the class talk about how attractive he was, I didn’t think he was anything special – brown hair, brown eyes, and a generic face that easily blended him into a crowd.

  “You know there’s a test coming up at the end of the week?” Mr. Werner sat on the edge of his desk and twirled his pen in his fingers. I nodded. “Since this is your first day, if you need it, I’m willing to give you an extra week to prepare.”

  “Oh, that’s okay.” I smiled appreciatively, but shook my head. “I was taking advanced algebra at my last school. We weren’t to this topic yet, but I can catch up by the end of the week.”

  “Okay, great,” he said, seemingly impressed that I didn’t want the extra time anyway, and set his pen down behind him. “If you need any help don’t hesitate to ask me or any of the other students.”

  Unsure of what else to say, I smiled again, said ‘thanks,’ and left. The old halls of the school were crowded with students and a few teachers, going every direction to enjoy their hour of lunch. I didn’t know where Camille was, and since I didn’t have a cell phone to call and find out I decided one of the courtyards I’d passed outside would be a good place to eat. I made my way through the long halls, down the stairs of the entranceway, and out the doors. The cold air instantly sent a shiver down the back of my neck, but I was pleased at how refreshing it was. The school somewhat overcompensated on heating, especially since there were so many students per classroom, and it easily grew hot and stuffy.

  One of the largest courtyards sat in the center of the school, and was spotted with quite a few stone lunch tables and benches. Because it was so cold not many students braved being outdoors, and I didn’t have trouble finding an empty place to sit. Luckily, small awnings overhead protected the tables from being frosted with snow, so I didn’t have to worry about sitting in it or brushing it off. I sat down and pulled from my backpack the five slices of leftover pizza Eli was generous enough to send me home with the night before. Cold p
izza wasn’t my ideal meal, but as per usual, I was too hungry to care.

  “Aren’t you cold out here?” I had three pieces gone by the time Abby’s backpack hit the surface of the table with a loud thud, and she plopped down in the seat across from me.

  “Hey, Abby.” I smiled in greeting, partly because of the girl’s contagious grin, and also because I wouldn’t have to eat alone.

  At my hello she gave a shocked but approving nod. “You remembered my name.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” I asked with a chuckle.

  “I don’t know.” She chewed the inside of her cheek for a thoughtful moment. “I figured you’d be meeting so many new people you’d just forget.”

  “You know how to make an impression,” I told her.

  She raised an eyebrow at me, the smirk on her face gaining a playful tilt. “Good or bad?”

  I squinted at her teasingly as I thought about it, though I’m sure the amused smile I had was just as coy as hers. “Verdict’s still out. I’ll let you know.”

  “You’re the choosy type, huh?” she giggled, clearly amused at the banter. “I guess I’ll just have to step up my game.”

  “You’re doing alright so far,” I said reassuringly, not wanting her to think I was a grouch who didn’t want any friends.

  At that she smiled, watching me curiously for a few silent seconds. That’s when I realized the banter of the whole conversation had contained a wildly flirtatious tone. Abby didn’t seem to mind, but I looked away, suddenly uncomfortable seeing as I wasn’t quite sure how I should feel about it. Now I didn’t know what to say. Couldn’t think of anything to say when I wasn’t sure if it would come out right. When that playfulness had been so easy.

  Abby seemed to read my thoughts, because she changed the subject instantly. “So, you’re not freezing out here?”

  I shook my head. “A hundred and two degree temperature sort of makes you cherish the cold.”

  Her hazel eyes widened with intrigue. “Is that really how hot you guys are?”

  I laughed and shrugged off my jacket – talking about heat was making me realize how readily my body had adjusted to the weather. “Just like a wolf. I got really curious one time and I used a thermometer to check.”

  “That much body heat sounds pretty good right about now.” Abby finally pulled a brown paper bag from her backpack, and then rubbed her arms furiously for warmth.

  “Oh, here,” I said, pushing my jacket in her direction. “I don’t need it.”

  She smiled her thanks, chuckling while she pulled it on over her own. “You guys do get hot. Your jacket’s still really warm.”

  “Told you,” I said knowingly. “What brings you to this neck of the woods?”

  “I was on my way indoors, where it’s not an icebox, to eat lunch with some friends when I saw you sitting over here,” she answered while pulling a sandwich and chips out of the paper bag. “I had to see for myself if you were lost or just crazy.”

  “Maybe a little of both,” I admitted with an embarrassed giggle. “You don’t have to keep me company if your friends are waiting for you.”

  She waved a carefree hand at me. “Don’t worry about it, they’ll survive. How are you settling in?”

  I shoved the last bite of pizza into my mouth and used the few seconds before I swallowed to think of an answer, even though she could hear it anyway. “Not too bad. The people are nice and everything, but it doesn’t seem like there’s too much to do around here.”

  “There’s really not,” Abby laughed in agreement. “Everyone goes to The Orchid, it’s this pretty decent sized club that’s about a ten minute drive from here. Have you been yet?” I shook my head. “My friends go almost every other day. You could come with us this week, if you want. On Wednesday?”

  “You guys stay out late on weeknights?” I asked, genuinely surprised when Abby nodded. I’d expected the school to enforce a curfew. “Um, I can’t on Wednesday. I have to run. I’m on sort of a strict schedule.” I rubbed my neck nervously when Abby’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as she no doubt had to pick my thoughts to completely understand what I meant by run.

  “Is that a Pack werewolf thing?” she asked when she figured it out. “Having a strict running schedule?”

  “No,” I said, continuing to look around nervously, knowing I’d have to explain. “It's more of a recently bitten werewolf thing.”

  “Really?” She didn't try to hide the shock from her face. “How'd you end up with the Pack? I thought only mutts bit people.”

  “Long story short,” I started, still figuring out the best and shortest way to explain my situation, and doing my best to keep certain thoughts at bay. “Camille and I were together. I almost died. Her sister bit me to save my life. I almost attacked my brother on accident, and now I'm here so the Pack can help me control my Changes.”

  “Wow. You almost died, huh? Freak accident?” Abby leaned forward, her curiosity almost too much for her to handle.

  “Murder,” I said simply, not wanting the conversation to carry on further, but it was too late to stop the memories of that night from resurfacing. The pain Jonathan had caused. The fear.

  Abby cleared her throat uncomfortably, her mouth turned down in an apologetic frown and her cheeks gaining an embarrassed tint of red for having brought it up. “Oh, Kyla, I’m so sorry.”

  The way she avoided eye contact I knew she’d heard that one thing I didn’t want anyone to know. “You weren’t supposed to know that. Camille doesn’t even know.” I rubbed my temples as though it would physically help to push away the memory. “I just want to forget about it.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. If you ever want to talk-” Abby stopped short as her gaze was pulled behind me.

  I knew exactly who it was by the familiar scent that wafted to my nose seconds before Camille sat down. “There you are. You really need a cell phone. I’ll talk to my dad about that,” she babbled as she took a seat, and I watched her gaze wander anxiously toward Abby. A slight scowl seemed to crease her eyebrows when she noticed Abby was wearing my jacket.

  I gave a distracted chuckle, more than a little thankful for the subject change. “I was thinking I need one too, but make sure it’s nothing fancy.”

  She nodded, and I could feel the tension in the awkward silence that ensued. It was clearly a discomfort between my two companions – both of their eyes drifted to the other repeatedly for only a brief moment until they’d look away. I just couldn’t understand why.

  “Either of you know where Misses Nix’s room is?” I threw the question out there when the silence became too much to handle, but as I glanced from Camille to Abby and realized both of them were reluctant to answer, I regretted hinting I needed someone to take me.

  “You should take her,” Camille told Abby as she stood up to leave, and started mumbling as she walked away, “I have stuff I need to do anyway.”

  I watched her retreat, utterly bewildered by her behavior. As Abby and I left the table for my next class, I found myself terribly curious what exactly was going on in that incredibly stubborn head of Camille's.

  “You're not going to ask me?” Abby said expectantly.

  My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and then I remembered that she could hear my thoughts. “Oh, uh, no. As much as I’d like to know, that’s not fair to you. I’m not going to use you like that.”

  “Wow,” was all Abby said until she received a questioning look in return. “Most people would jump at the chance to know what others are thinking, whether it’s using me or not,” she explained. “That says a lot about you.”

  I chuckled in disagreement with her regard for my character. “I’m not all that great.”

  “I beg to differ.” She shrugged and smiled, a smile that made me blush just slightly, and that I couldn’t stop from contagiously tugging at my own lips. She was definitely straightforward, which after so much confusion with Camille was a bit of a nice change. “Okay, you’re busy on Wednesday. What about Thursday?”


  “Thursday, I can do. What time do you usually go?” I asked as I followed her through a separate entrance of the same building my last class was in.

  “Eight o’clock. I’ll come by your room and we can drive together?” Abby stopped in front of a room and turned to face me as she leaned her back against the wall. I nodded and followed her gaze to a clock on the opposite side. “Lunch went by quick! This is your class here,” she said, pointing to the door next to us. Then she dropped her backpack so she could shrug out of my jacket and hand it back to me. “Thanks for that. My next class is on the other side of the school, so I got to get going. I’ll catch you later.”

  I waved goodbye and leaned near the door while I waited for my next class to start, smiling at the fact that I’d made a new friend. I liked Abby, she was easy to talk to and seemed like a lot of fun. Not to mention her infectious smile, which I could never help but reciprocate. When it came down to it, a new friend was a good distraction from all the tension and indecisiveness between Camille and I.

  ***

  The sudden knocking from my door startled me out of my concentration. I’d been studying for my math test the next day for the past two hours, and hadn’t been expecting Abby for another fifteen minutes. I rubbed my tired eyes, grateful for a distraction and a well-deserved break.