“Than moving the object all by yourself,” Calla finished.
“Do you two always finish each other’s sentences?”
“Typically.” Jack tried to lean against the table smoothly but he accidentally slipped. Alex tried to hide her smile.
“Twin complex,” Calla muttered. “When he falls, I bleed, and vice versa.”
She didn’t seem pleased about this.
“Even when we died, it was the same way,” Jack shook his head of matted gray-brown hair. “I had a brain tumor, and when I died, Calla died with me, even though she had no symptoms.”
Calla lifted a finger to her forehead. “He has too much up here.”
Alex was confused until Jack snickered. “A brain tumor has nothing to do with an excess of brain power.”
“So were you a genius in life, too?” Alex asked.
“I was probably headed to an Ivy League school.”
“Lots of people do that.”
“At sixteen,” he added.
“Oh.”
Jack’s grin accentuated the puffy half-moons under his eyes.
“You look tired. Must be from staying up late and memorizing books.”
Jack vigorously shook his head back and forth, trying to wake up. “I know we need an adequate amount of sleep, but my mind just feels like it’s moving so quickly. I can’t sleep.”
“And therefore, I’m tired,” Calla growled.
“It can’t be fun being in each other’s heads,” Alex said, glancing over at the Lasalles. Kaleb was firing orbs at a disgruntled-looking Jonas. She could hear Chase’s pity for his brother.
“Quit staring at your boyfriend,” Jack joked.
Alex wasn’t quite sure who he meant.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“You’re always saying the wrong thing,” Calla accused him.
“Am not.”
“Are so.”
Alex held up her hands. “No. I’m just not sure who you’re talking about.”
“Jonas. You’re with him all the time, aren’t you? I notice things.”
“Jonas isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Oh?”
“No.”
An orb flew across the room and slammed into Jack’s back. He ignored it and kept his eyes on the text. Calla lifted an arm to rub between her shoulders “Ouch.”
“Why do you let people treat you that way?”
Jack shrugged carelessly. “I guess we’re just used to it.”
“That doesn’t make it better!”
“Heavy lies the head,” Jack murmured. Calla nodded, fiddling with her sweater. “We have more important things to worry about than people teasing us. They’ll learn their lesson one day. Calla’s and my luck will change. We’re good people. And good things happen to good people. Even if we don’t stay here in this city.”
“You’d leave?”
“It isn’t written in stone that we have to live here.” Jack paused with his mouth ajar, revealing his horsey teeth. “Let’s try flickering.”
“What’s that?”
“Flickering,” he read, “is when a spirit momentarily flickers out of visibility. Why do you look confused?”
Alex studied the text. “I know the bodied can’t see us, but how can spirits hide from one another?”
“If we aren’t looking for each other, it’s possible to fool the mind, if only for a few seconds. You just have to move yourself to a different place. Give it a try.”
Embarrassed, Alex glanced around the room at the other students.
“What’s the matter?” Jack asked. Realization spread across his face. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He smacked himself. “You don’t know how, do you? No sweat, it’s one of the simplest things to learn. Just imagine yourself shrinking in all directions.”
Calla jumped in. “Like a genie being sucked into a lamp.”
“Except you’re condensing yourself into a ball in midair. Then quickly move to a space you don’t think I’ll look for you.”
Alex closed her eyes and imagined that the walls around her were closing in, the air constricting her. Nothing happened.
“You forgot to move. And keep your eyes open so you know where you’re going.”
She focused on the corner of the Grandiuse right next to Westfall. Jack wouldn’t expect her to venture anywhere near a man who had just ordered an attack on her.
She heard a tiny gazump like sealing Tupperware. She blinked, and she was completely across the room.
“Wow,” Jack yelled. “That didn’t take you very long at all.”
Alex practically danced back to their table. “Could you see anything?”
“Right before you moved, I noticed your light.”
“What does it look like?”
He considered his answer for several moments. “It’s never still. Like the reflection of the moon over the ocean.”
Calla nodded. “It’s pretty.”
“Could the bodied see it?”
“Rarely. But it has happened.” Jack flipped through the text. “I think that’s why sometimes the bodied think we aren’t in a whole form, why they think that we’re hazy or we flicker.”
Chase appeared beside her. He turned his head and kissed her cheek before disappearing again. Jack and Calla both stared at Alex, openmouthed.
Alex hoped she wasn’t blushing. “This is pretty cool. Thank you so much, you two.”
Calla looked away. She’d probably never been complimented in her life. Jack grinned, exposing his large teeth.
“I can’t believe something like this is possible,” Alex breathed.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” a voice barked.
“Hello, Ardor Westfall,” Jack said, saluting.
“After all, all you are is a projection. A memory,” Westfall said, crossing his arms. “And memories never stay in one place.”
21
Kaleb was always suspicious of Jonas. He loved his brother, of course. He loved all of them, but the others made it easier than Jonas did. Jonas was sneaky. Kaleb was certain he would stab any of them in the back in order to make himself look good.
He drummed his pencil on the table and glanced at the door, but the rest of his clan had yet to arrive. Despite its old-fashioned exterior, the Ex House on Lazuli Street was relatively modern. Its thick wooden tables and armchairs deep enough to sink into resembled a coffee house. They served flavors of the misty froth passed around during festival street parties. The newburies around here called it the Ex drink. Every cup displayed a blurb explaining the history of the mist and its creator, Xander Aris, but Kaleb didn’t care enough to read it. He liked to have it, though, because it provided a brief buzz like a shot of some super energy drink.
Usually Kaleb hung out in the Back Room of the Ex House, an area much louder and rowdier, with pool tables, foosball and ping pong. But today he had work to do. Instrumental music drifted through the more studious front half of the bar. The little black notes rose to the ceiling and arranged themselves into a life-sized sheet of music. He didn’t know how, but his mind told him it was called Vivaldi. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he actually liked it. Kind of.
It was easy to distinguish the various newbury cliques. The legacies typically loitered in the Back Room, competing to see who could hold their nose the highest. Tonight, they’d arrived without Skye Gossamer, so Kaleb didn’t give them a second glance. She was the only one worth staring at. Then there were the movers, whose belongings hovered around them like flies. The chokers sulked in the corners reading Poe or Emily Dickinson. You’re dead, he always wanted to shout, get over it! The crew of “earthly” newburies showed avid interest in stones, plants, and herbs. Naturally, they faithfully followed Professor Duvall. Kaleb hated teacher’s pets.