The Soul (The Spirit Trilogy #3)

Chapter 2

Forty-four seniors didn't take up much room in the gym where our graduation was to be held. Back in Sherman, my old class would be spread over the football field or crammed into the auditorium, depending on the weather. But this was the tiny village of Villisca. We didn't have an auditorium, and the football field seemed like overkill for this few a number. Two rows of metal chairs in front of a make-shift stage were sufficient. Spectators had plenty of room in the bleachers.

As luck would have it, the R last names sat directly behind the Cs. My best friend in this town and I had barely spoken since I told him Lucas's and my relationship wasn't any of his business. After that, he started to look at me differently, like he was disappointed in me. Lucas told me to give him space and he'd come around. I wish he'd hurry the hell up.

From the seat in front of me, Mike twisted, and for a second, I thought he would speak to me. I'd settle for a one-syllable word at this point. Instead he chin-upped fellow teammate Logan Rinner, who sat beside me. Mike's gaze drifted over me though before he turned back around.

Hello to you too.

The small gymnasium filled. A few stragglers shoved their way past those blocking the doors from the cafeteria. I caught sight of Mandy, Mike's little sister, among them, squeezing through the crowd. In Sherman, eight-year-olds stayed glued to their parents at events like this, but here in Villisca no one batted an eye at lone kids. Determination crunched up her face as she huffed by Mr. Graundelin, her last roadblock to the bleachers. Her overdramatic expressions made her even cuter. Once through, she blew out her cheeks and climbed up to sit with her parents. Beside them strung the line of my family.

Griffin. Secretary. Grandpa. Grandma. Lucas. Mom. The seating order seemed to have been decided beforehand. At least they resembled civility. I hoped it would stay that way.

The dimple on Lucas's cheek sank deep as he grinned at me. He nodded knowingly, probably reading my thoughts regarding the family seating chart. He was still better at slipping into my thoughts than vice versa.

"Welcome VHS class of 2016!" our too-peppy principal announced, her arms open wide as if anticipating a group hug.

NGH, lady.

"Is this over yet?" I mumbled to myself.

In front of me, Mike's shoulders vibrated. He must have heard me, because he tilted his head back slightly and whispered, "In a hurry? Hot date or something?"

"Don't be a jerk, Mike," I said.

"I'll take that as a no."

I leaned back against my chair, fighting the urge to cross my arms. Megan said he talked to her a few times after the fire at the Axe Murder House. He asked a lot of questions about witches and ghosts and necromancers, and he borrowed a few of Vanessa's books on various supernatural subjects. I'd hoped all the research would have made him more understanding toward Lucas and me, but apparently not.

I spaced off during the remainder of the ceremony. A couple students and a teacher presented speeches about—I don't know—following your dreams, probably.

"So I'd like to leave you with this: you get one shot at life; follow your dreams," Gabby, the valedictorian, finished. Then she flashed a camera-friendly smile.

Applause erupted as if she just announced the cure for cancer, mostly from the adults in the bleachers. The student section was less enthusiastic. I clapped three times.

The one positive about today was that the distribution of diplomas at Villisca High took a grand total of fifteen minutes. When the principal presented Mike his, he raised the leather folder above his head with the world's largest grin on his face. He hollered out his success, to which the rest of the football team blasted out whoops along with him. Regardless of Mike's earlier comment, I chuckled at that. His parents stood up and cheered, and Mandy did one of her famous pinkies-in-her-mouth whistles she usually reserved for games.