Paranormal communication? Pet poltergeist? Gemstones with protective properties? Did any of those sound more rational than Tim’s Dracula Daddy theory?
I tried to remember other vampire legends. “Can you see yourself when you look in the mirror?”
“Yeah. But remember, I’m only half vampire.”
“Can you turn into a bat?”
“No, but—”
“Half vampire. I know. You don’t bite people and drink blood and stuff, do you?”
“I get kind of sick at the sight of blood,” Tim said, looking slightly squirmy.
“Okay, so then why doesn’t Isobel like you? She seems like the type who’d be really into the whole vampire thing.”
Tim sighed a little. “Goths don’t always like vampires. Plus she thinks I’m making it up. And she thinks I’m annoying.” He picked at a loose thread on his arm warmer.“So anyway, I told you about my dad, now tell me about your mom. Was she really a ghost hunter?”
Darn. Right back to this. “She was a paranormal investigator, yeah. She also did lectures, and she and Dad ran a website that sold investigative equipment and books.” They’d made a great team—Mom was the intuitive, sympathetic one who sensed spirits and sought to help them, and Dad was the reformed skeptic determined to document significant scientific proof of his wife’s experiences.
“And the cops really thought your dad killed her?”
That was my least favorite part of the whole mess, and I seriously didn’t want to discuss it. Okay, so for about five minutes, the police thought Mom’s death was a murder, and Dad was their chief suspect. I hated that people still remembered that so many years later. That’s small-town living for you.
I gave Tim my most withering glare. “She fell down some stairs. That’s it. Shut up, okay?”
“Sorry.” He sunk down in his chair a little, looking appropriately scolded, but I could tell he was still curious.
Before he could start up with his interrogation again, though, the front door of the apartment opened and closed, and Dad came into the kitchen.
“Finished with Mrs. Wilson,” he said. His shirtsleeveswere still rolled up to the elbows, and he smelled like a chem lab mixed with industrial-strength soap. “Now that I have a little more time, how was school?” he asked me.
“Well, I got teased because of your job, everyone thinks I’m a freak, and worst of all, I have to take gym.” I motioned for Tim to follow me, and we went to hang out in my room.
On the way, I asked Tim if he’d taken any gym classes at Palmetto. The memory of the thing in the locker room was still lurking in my head, and I suddenly wondered if the presence stuck to the girls’ room only, or if it haunted the boys’ room, too. No way was I about to sneak in and see for myself, though. Ew.
He nodded. “Beginning Gym. Last year. It sucked.”
“Yeah. Hey, did you ever notice anything weird in the locker room?” I didn’t really think he’d be able to tell me much, but it was worth a try.
“Well, it usually smells weird in there,” Tim said. He obviously had no idea what I was fishing for, but he wanted to be helpful.
So much for that.
“Don’t they all?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “Hey, want to see Buster eat a cookie?”
CHAPTER FIVE
high school hell gate
That evening I couldn’t stop thinking about school and the presence in the locker room. Maybe I’d overreacted. After all, I’d been stressed about gym, and anxiety can play all kinds of tricks—I certainly wasn’t helpless when it came to spooky stuff. Mom had worked with all kinds of paranormal phenomena, and so could I. I knew she’d be really proud of me for dealing with this myself.
Besides, she’d always taught me that ghosts and stuff weren’t really dangerous. You just had to figure out how to handle them, and the first step in doing that was figuring out who—or what—you were working with.
The only thing was, I’d never done a paranormal investigation before, and Mom
I tried to remember other vampire legends. “Can you see yourself when you look in the mirror?”
“Yeah. But remember, I’m only half vampire.”
“Can you turn into a bat?”
“No, but—”
“Half vampire. I know. You don’t bite people and drink blood and stuff, do you?”
“I get kind of sick at the sight of blood,” Tim said, looking slightly squirmy.
“Okay, so then why doesn’t Isobel like you? She seems like the type who’d be really into the whole vampire thing.”
Tim sighed a little. “Goths don’t always like vampires. Plus she thinks I’m making it up. And she thinks I’m annoying.” He picked at a loose thread on his arm warmer.“So anyway, I told you about my dad, now tell me about your mom. Was she really a ghost hunter?”
Darn. Right back to this. “She was a paranormal investigator, yeah. She also did lectures, and she and Dad ran a website that sold investigative equipment and books.” They’d made a great team—Mom was the intuitive, sympathetic one who sensed spirits and sought to help them, and Dad was the reformed skeptic determined to document significant scientific proof of his wife’s experiences.
“And the cops really thought your dad killed her?”
That was my least favorite part of the whole mess, and I seriously didn’t want to discuss it. Okay, so for about five minutes, the police thought Mom’s death was a murder, and Dad was their chief suspect. I hated that people still remembered that so many years later. That’s small-town living for you.
I gave Tim my most withering glare. “She fell down some stairs. That’s it. Shut up, okay?”
“Sorry.” He sunk down in his chair a little, looking appropriately scolded, but I could tell he was still curious.
Before he could start up with his interrogation again, though, the front door of the apartment opened and closed, and Dad came into the kitchen.
“Finished with Mrs. Wilson,” he said. His shirtsleeveswere still rolled up to the elbows, and he smelled like a chem lab mixed with industrial-strength soap. “Now that I have a little more time, how was school?” he asked me.
“Well, I got teased because of your job, everyone thinks I’m a freak, and worst of all, I have to take gym.” I motioned for Tim to follow me, and we went to hang out in my room.
On the way, I asked Tim if he’d taken any gym classes at Palmetto. The memory of the thing in the locker room was still lurking in my head, and I suddenly wondered if the presence stuck to the girls’ room only, or if it haunted the boys’ room, too. No way was I about to sneak in and see for myself, though. Ew.
He nodded. “Beginning Gym. Last year. It sucked.”
“Yeah. Hey, did you ever notice anything weird in the locker room?” I didn’t really think he’d be able to tell me much, but it was worth a try.
“Well, it usually smells weird in there,” Tim said. He obviously had no idea what I was fishing for, but he wanted to be helpful.
So much for that.
“Don’t they all?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “Hey, want to see Buster eat a cookie?”
CHAPTER FIVE
high school hell gate
That evening I couldn’t stop thinking about school and the presence in the locker room. Maybe I’d overreacted. After all, I’d been stressed about gym, and anxiety can play all kinds of tricks—I certainly wasn’t helpless when it came to spooky stuff. Mom had worked with all kinds of paranormal phenomena, and so could I. I knew she’d be really proud of me for dealing with this myself.
Besides, she’d always taught me that ghosts and stuff weren’t really dangerous. You just had to figure out how to handle them, and the first step in doing that was figuring out who—or what—you were working with.
The only thing was, I’d never done a paranormal investigation before, and Mom
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