Brooke looked over at me. Discomfort prickled along my skin. I shifted, not sure what to say.
“We thought—” Ashlee started to say something, then stopped. She averted her gaze, seeming embarrassed.
“We thought it was our grandmother,” Sydnee finished.
“The ghost,” Ashlee said, taking her turn to clarify.
But I already knew that. Poltergeists were nasty, manipulative things. It had somehow convinced the girls it was their grandmother, which was disturbing on so many levels.
I decided to fess up. No sense in trying to deny it now. “Sorry about the piano.”
Ashlee grinned. “Are you kidding? That got us out of piano lessons for weeks.”
“Your house is really nice,” Brooklyn said, doing a 180. She dropped her hands to her side. “Most mansions are, I guess.”
“Yeah, it’s okay, if you like that sort of thing,” Sydnee said, lifting one shoulder. She had yet to crack a smile like her sister. “Our dad built it for our mom. Lot of good it did him.”
My mouth thinned in empathy. “I’m so sorry about that. It must have been really hard to go through.”
Sydnee examined her nails, but Ashlee, the more outgoing of the two, said, “Our mom’s crazy for leaving Dad. Seriously, who gives up everything to run off with an investment broker?”
“Dad’s not perfect,” Sydnee said, “but really? An investment broker? I don’t even know what that means.”
I never knew the guy, or their mom, frankly, but I had to admit, it surprised me. It shocked the whole town. Quite the scandal. “Well, thank you for this.” I clutched the necklace tighter and went back to the sink to spit before I started gagging.
They followed me. And Brooke followed them.
“There’s more,” Ash said, biting her lip as though uncertain.
Curious now, I rinsed, wiped my mouth, then looked at the clock on my phone. Even if we sprinted, we’d never make fifth hour before the tardy bell. It was too much to hope another fight would detain the teacher long enough for me to sneak in again. I gave the twins my full attention. “What’s up?”
“We also know what you are.”
Brooklyn stilled beside me.
“Really?” I asked, a lighthearted laugh escaping me. “Besides a girl?”
“Yes,” Syd said. “And what Ash should have said is, we know what you can do.”
“Okay.”
Ash stepped closer again. “There’s something weird going on.”
Syd looked around, then lowered her voice. “Something strange.”
I stared cautiously as they closed the distance between us. “I’m getting that.”
Inching back to my side, Brooke asked, “What do you mean by strange?”
“A lot of the kids are behaving oddly,” Ash said. “Including Syd’s boyfriend, Isaac. That’s why we’re here. We thought you could maybe touch him.”
Isaac had been at the party that night. I remembered seeing him with a group of friends along the tree line, barely visible in the low light. One of the few people there I could’ve called friend, he’d smiled at me and waved.
“You’re dating Isaac Johnson?” Brooke asked, beaming with enthusiasm and suddenly tight with the Southern Belles. “That is so sweet. I bet you guys make the cutest cou—”
“Really, Brooke?” I stopped her midstream. She could go on for days.
“I’m just saying.” She frowned at me, then did the phone sign to Syd and mouthed the words call me.
Syd grinned at last, a shy smile that crept sweetly across her face.
I smiled too, then asked, “How do you know what I can do?”
They exchanged furtive glances; then Ash said, “It told us. The thing in our house. It told us what you are, what Cameron is, and what Jared is.” Her eyes rounded a little. “Please don’t tell him we know. We won’t tell anyone.”
“We swear.” Syd nodded, her eyes pleading.
“I promise I won’t tell him. But he’s a good guy. He won’t hurt you just for knowing what he is.” Their expressions were less than convinced, so I asked, “What is it exactly you’re worried about?”
“Isaac is acting strange. He’s been acting strange for a couple of days. I think,” Syd said, her voice lowering to a whisper, “I think something happened at the Clearing Friday night. I think he’s being bullied.”
Brooke and I both blinked and waited for the punch line. It never came.
“Wait,” Brooke said at last, “you can’t be serious.”
“Isaac Johnson?” I raised my brows, hoping to give them a clue. “The biggest defensive lineman ever to grace the halls of Riley High? That Isaac Johnson?”
“And he’s being bullied?”
They nodded in unison.
“We know how it sounds,” Syd said. “But he’s not the only one. There are more. Almost every member of the football team in OA is acting strange. Like they’re scared of someone.”
“Or something,” Ash added. “Ever since that night.”
To be in OA, or organized athletics, a student had to play at least one sport. Since football was over, the team still got together every day and worked out. And that wasn’t all they did. They still partied together. Half the team had to have been at that party. All I remembered was letter jacket after letter jacket.