The Guidance - By Marley Gibson Page 0,48

mean, I would never attempt a séance without Loreen's guidance.

You must stop her, Kendall, Emily pleads.

I'm trying!

I tug Celia by her sleeve and nudge her forward. "Come on."

She, along with Becca and Taylor, follow me as I step over the circle of joined hands and stand in the middle. We're definitely busting up these shenanigans.

"Courtney, you have no idea what you're doing. You've got to stop at once." I know I'm begging, but I don't care. "Stop pretending before someone—particularly you—gets hurt!"

Courtney closes her eyes again, and a menacing cackle emerges from her. "Kendall Moorehead is jealous of my new powers and the fact that she's not the only one in school anymore who can contact the other side."

All eyes shift to me as if echoing Courtney's sentiment. This isn't about me though! It's about seriously doing what my mother has accused me of—dabbling in the dark arts.

"I don't have an ounce of envy. Trust me. What you're doing is wrong. Dangerous, even."

Tell her what I'm saying, Emily says in my head.

I obey without hesitation. "You have to be prepared when contacting the other side. You have to know who you're reaching out to and what you're doing and what you could possibly be up against. There's a certain amount of protection and blessing and prayer you do ahead of time so no one gets hurt. Did you do any of that, Courtney?"

She cracks one eye open and stares at me. For a moment, I think I've gotten through to her.

Finish ...

I fist my hand and shake it at her. "You have to be prepared for whatever spirit—confrontational, lonely, mischievous, angry—you might encounter. You're putting yourself and everyone else in this room in danger with your frivolous behavior. All for what?"

Courtney screams at the top of her lungs, bringing all eyes to her now. "Get out of my circle, Ghost Girl. I'll show you how it's supposed to be done."

There's a thick wall of energy moving through the room, something negative and angry surrounding my fellow students. Why can't people understand the danger Courtney is dragging them into? This isn't a game. But it is to all of them. Simply another fun thing to scare everyone on a Halloween night.

Jason and Clay enter the room; Jason reaches out for me. I take his hand as I step back from the séance circle, defeated. The air inside my lungs feels heavy, and I find it hard to lift my feet from the floor to walk toward him.

"Are you okay? I heard Courtney yelling."

"No, I'm not all right," I manage to say. "She's making a mistake, Jason, and she won't listen to reason."

He pulls me against his chest and kisses me on the forehead. "You have to let her mess up on her own."

"It's more than that," I say into his Batman suit. "Emily told me to warn her. She's luring evil in."

Jason's chest rumbles with his laughter. "I think it's a little late for a warning."

I look up at him. "I'm serious."

"So am I." He turns us toward the door. "Let's go. Hell with her and her games. Quit giving her the attention she's craving. It's a party. We're supposed to be here having fun."

Oh, except it's anything but.

Walking is a chore. It's like I'm slogging through wet sand on the beach. I'm helpless to stop any of this, although I know there's something ominous lurking in the shadows. I'm 100 percent sure of it.

Behind me, Courtney continues to call out to the spirits.

"What is she doing now?" I turn and see our hostess, Stephanie, standing next to me, staring ahead. "Is she conducting a séance?"

I nod.

Stephanie leans over and whispers to me, "Mom says we really do have spirits in this house. Courtney knows that too, 'cause she's spent the night over here before."

"The spirit of Ada Parry?" I ask.

"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe others," she says. "Mom once had this medium try to contact spirits here in the house. She wouldn't let me sit in on it, so I don't know what-all happened other than the lady left the house in tears."

Before I can do or say anything, I see a shadow person move behind Courtney. The silhouette of a male is quite clear to me, and I wonder if anyone else can see it. Like a superslow-mo replay during a sports game, the shadow morphs into a clear figure: The small billed cap. The tattered blue uniform. The buttons on his coat, which remain shiny despite the wear