The Spirit Seer

The Spirit Seer Chapter 2

The next day we were excused from school early since a classmate had been killed. I'm at the mall with my friends. We all met up after school.

Rachel is a bit of a shopaholic, so she is always looking for a reason to have a mall trip. Rachel and Becca are my best friends. They aren’t really the type to have stimulating discussions with, but they are great for fashion and boy talks. Everybody had their own strong suits.

I lean back into my hunky boyfriend on one side of the table in the food court. Rachel and Becca sit across from us. Chad and I may not have the most stimulating conversations, but he is strong, and I love being in his arms.

"I am like so happy we got out of school early today. It was totally an unexpected treat. Now I can so shop for something killer to wear to the party this weekend." Rachel says.

"I don't know if treat is the right word, Rach. I mean they let us out in case anyone was grieving." I remind her gently.

She gives me her best "duh" look. And it is a pretty good look; she practices her expressions in the mirror, so she can know which ones made her look the prettiest. It’s so weird, but it makes complete sense in her head.

I know what I’m talking about; I’ve seen her do it before. I never really understood it myself, but it’s just part of Rach, if that makes any sense.

"I know, but I barely know this Jan girl. It's totally sad and all but I'm not like going to let it ruin my extra shopping trip."

I want to tell her how ridiculous that sounds, can’t she even hear herself? A girl is dead and all she cares about is that she gets to go shopping? I know it sounds crass, but I know she doesn’t mean any harm. She’s just never had to think about anyone else. Her parents are crazy rich. They both come from super old family money and she is their firstborn.

They spoil her and her younger sister rotten with money since they were never around, and the girls were mostly raised by nannies. So, while she was rude and inconsiderate that is just how Rachel is. I’ve come to expect it at this point.

"Jayne," I say softly, kind of under my breath. I can understand why she is the way that she is, but that doesn’t mean I can totally keep my mouth shut. Even if she isn’t going to care much about our dead classmate she should at least get her name right. It’s honestly the least she could do.

She looks at me blankly. "Huh"

Right…I take a mental deep breath. It takes everything not to snap at her but she’s my friend, so I keep the sigh in…just barely. "Her name is Jayne."

"Ohhh right duh." She says waving it away like it isn't important.

And maybe to her it isn't. I mostly like that my friends are caught up in themselves so much, but from time to time I wish for some conversation with substance. I know, I know, beggars can’t be choosers, and most people would kill to have my group of friends. It’s just times like these that it really hits home.

I honestly can’t say I chose my friends because I wanted them in my life. I know how bad that sounds, but I sort of fell into the friendship and then stayed when I realized how much easier it was to pretend with them. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends now but sometimes I wish for some other friends as well who could see outside of their rich entitled world.

Jayne's death may not bother my friends, but I couldn't believe that some girl I had gone to school with my whole life had died at sixteen. She had been found late last night in the river. The cops were investigating but that’s all I knew so far.

Maybe it was the part of me that can see ghosts that is so affected by a death this close. I don't know, but it definitely freaks me out.

She was only sixteen. I’m sixteen; I have so many hopes and dreams for my future. I’m sure she did too, but now they will never happen. Somebody took that future away from her. They are still out there too.

Sometimes when bad things happen I comfort myself by rationalizing that it couldn’t happen to me for one reason or another, but since I don’t know how or why she died it’s hard to convince myself that I’m really safe. I shiver at the thought. Chad rubs my arms at the motion.

"You okay?" He whispers into my ear.

Usually, the intimate gesture would excite me, but my mind is on a dead girl.

For a second I think about answering him honestly, but nobody else seems to be very affected by the whole thing, and I wasn't close to this girl Jayne. I don't want them to think I’m weird for letting it affect me. But also, if I’m being honest, I don’t think they would understand. Her death has nothing to do with them, and so I’m not sure they’d care. So instead I just fib…again.

"Yeah sure, just cold." I don’t look him in the eye as I lie, because I hate doing that, so I keep my back to him. I hate how natural it is for me to stretch the truth, but it's old hat to me now.

I’ve been doing it for so many years in every aspect of my life. I’m not proud of it, but I don’t know any other way.

He rubs my arms again to warm me up, but it does little to warm the cold nerves in the pit of my stomach over what’s happened in my own neighborhood, or the sinking feeling that I can’t seem to shake.

~~~~~

The next day I’m in math class and it's results day. I really hope I didn't fail my last test. I tried to study, I really did. But the ghosts were really loud in the house that night and I couldn't focus. I just hope I didn't do horribly.

My teacher Mr. Echols is killing me slowly with each passing second that he doesn't hand out the tests. If I did badly then I want to know so I can stop torturing myself about it. But there he sits all suave and masculine in front of the class tapping his foot.

I bet that isn’t the way you would describe your high school math teacher. I get that, I do, but you haven’t seen Mr. Echols. I have never had a crush on a teacher in my life. I always thought it sounded so fake and silly when girls said that. But then I took geometry with him. And it changed my whole worldview. I don’t think any self-respecting teenage girl could take his class and not end up hopelessly devoted.

He is only in his late twenties, early thirties at the oldest, and he has a rockin' bod. He wears tight-fitting button-up shirts and tight slacks. Let’s just say watching him bend over makes every girl swoon. He wears these black thin-framed glasses that you would assume would make him seem nerdy but even as a math teacher they just add to his allure. He can also relate to us on our level. He hasn't been teaching long enough to become jaded yet. It's a nice quality in a teacher.

When I'm finally ready to offer him my firstborn if he will just tell me if I failed or not, he stands up. Every girl in the class holds their breath, and I'm only a little ashamed to admit I do as well. It's pretty unavoidable where he's concerned.

"I have your tests here, some of you did well, and some of you didn't do well at all. I really hope for those of you that didn't do quite so well, it was just a bad week and we can all do better next time." He starts passing the tests out.

Ohmigod, could he have been talking to me as one of the kids who did poorly? My chest tightens, and I feel like I might start hyperventilating at any moment. I don't want to fail. I haven't failed before. I can't know. Not when I'm so close to what I want. I really haven’t been doing very well in this class lately, but I can’t fail.

He finally puts my test on my desk. I take a deep breath and then I look at it. 88%, I sigh.

It's a B+ and that's still good, but it isn't my best and I should have done better. I can do better I know I can. I just have to find a place to study that isn’t filled with ghosts.

"Good Job," Mr. Echols says and winks at me.

I stop breathing for a second. I know, and have always known that I don't stand a chance with my hot math teacher. I am sixteen. It's a ridiculous notion. But still, when he winks at me, it almost seems possible. But alas my teenage crush is reading too much into it. Sigh.

He finishes passing out the tests and tells us to quietly go over them. I look at my failure of a test. It just makes me antsy. So, I let my eyes wander. That's when my eyes come to a ghost standing in the corner of the room. I am so distracted that I look him in the eyes without thinking, but I quickly look away.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and he's staring at me. I hold my breath in anticipation. Does he realize I saw him? He furrows his brow, but shakes his head and looks away.

Whooo, I think silently. I almost gave myself away. But luckily my quick thinking saved me again. It’s been years since I’ve had a close call like that. I’m so used to not seeing the ghosts that I barely have to try anymore. I can’t believe I committed such a rookie mistake. I can’t let it happen again.

I avoid looking in that direction for the rest of class, and eventually the bell rings. It was agony. But I made it. I get up to leave along with the rest of my class.

"Don't forget if you need any help in this class I do tutoring after school. I want you guys to pass so let me know if you need the help." Mr. Echols reminds us as we leave.

I am so ready for the class to be over. As nice as my teacher is to look at, that was a stressful class. I'm so ready to put all that behind me.