School Spirits - By Rachel Hawkins Page 0,28
wait, which was a lot longer than I’d wanted—the sooner I got this case over with, the better—but in the end, I was kind of grateful for the time.
For one thing, school was tougher than I’d expected. English was good. We were reading Macbeth, and while I’d never read Shakespeare before, any story that involved witches, ghosts, and a bunch of violence seemed right up my alley. History was also okay, and I was holding my own in chemistry, but geometry was one of the more evil foes I’d ever faced. I hadn’t really thought much about balancing ghost busting with math problems, so it was nice to let the case take a backseat for a little bit.
In addition to giving me time to figure out homework, those ten days let me get closer to Romy and Dex. I still hadn’t met the mysterious Anderson. He drove to school himself, and since he was a junior, we didn’t have any of the same classes. But I sat with Romy and Dex on the bus every day, and by the time the first PMS meeting had rolled around, I felt like I was already one of the group. I wondered if all kids made friends this quickly, or if this was just unique to Dex and Romy.
PMS was holding its meeting in one of the portable classrooms behind the school, and when the last bell rang on Thursday afternoon, Romy and I made our way out there. “The state outlawed these like a million years ago,” Romy told me as we walked into what was basically a trailer, “but a few schools keep them around for art classrooms or yearbook offices.” She snorted. “You know, classes that don’t really matter, according to the fine state of Mississippi.”
This particular trailer wasn’t being used this year. It smelled like erasers and damp carpet, but it had a big whiteboard and a few desks that weren’t covered in scratched obscenities, so it met all of Romy’s requirements. “We used to meet in the lunchroom, but the janitors were always rushing us.” Romy turned to the whiteboard, picked up a blue dry-erase marker, and scrawled 1st point: Izzy.
“So how long have you been running this thing?” I asked her as she wrote, 2nd point: Gym Weirdness/Beth/Doll.
“I tried to start a chapter back in junior high, but a couple of parents complained. Apparently, investigating the paranormal is the first step on the road to devil worship or something. But when we got to high school I was ready.”
Once she’d written 3rd point: Tonight? Romy turned to me with a broad smile. “I explained to Mr. Owens—he’s our principal—that it wasn’t, like, an occult thing.” She raised her thumb, ticking off. “It’s science. They study parapsychology at Duke, for heaven’s sake. And” —she raised her index finger—“a few years back, Mary Evans High had a forensics club that studied old-timey murders. That is way more twisted than ghost hunting. And last but not least”—a third finger went up—“investigating popular ghost stories from this area increases our knowledge of local folklore and regionalism.”
I sat on top of one of the desks, crossing my legs. “Wow. You really wanted to—I mean, to make this club.” The door banged open, and a lanky boy, even taller than Dex, loped in. He had blond hair that fell nearly to his shoulders, and while he had a few acne scars and wasn’t as handsome as Dex, he was still a pretty good-looking guy. Then his eyes landed on Romy, and his whole face seemed to light up.
“Hey, Rome,” he said, his voice surprisingly deep. Then his eyes landed on me. “Oh. Hi.”
I gave a little wave. “Hi.”
“Anderson, this is Izzy,” Romy said, and I noticed her face was kind of glowy, too. “She’s gonna be in the club now, but we’ll go over that when everyone gets here.”
“Sounds good,” he said affably, sitting on top of the desk closest to Romy.
“Everyone” turned out to be Dex. He arrived about five minutes later, sliding into the desk next to mine. “So, Izzy,” he asked, turning those blue eyes on me, “suitably impressed by our headquarters?”
Romy tossed the dry-erase marker at him. “Okay, now that we’re all here, I’m calling this meeting of the Paranormal Management Society to order. First point”—she gestured to the whiteboard—“is to welcome our newest member, Izzy Brannick. Izzy has only been at Mary Evans for about two weeks, but has already proven herself awesome by permanently crippling Ben McCrary.”
“Whoa,”