Steady

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

"What do you want?"

The words slip out of my mouth before I realized I want this to stop. I want the board to disappear and I want to forget this exchange ever happened.

What was I thinking, playing with fire? What I did was dangerous. Dangerous and wrong.

The planchette once again starts across the board at a snail's pace, but I can't bear the burn in my chest for a second longer. In one quick motion, I lash out and sweep the board off the table, sending it crashing to the floor.

"Stop!" I cry, convulsing into full-body shivers. "Just get out of here! Leave!"

Banging on my door forces a scream up my throat and I slap a hand across my mouth, knowing full well spirits don't knock. I'm level-headed enough to realize that. Tamping down my panic, I acknowledge I was in the midst of a code red freak out and someone obviously heard me.

Smoothing a shaking hand over my hair and plastering a neutral expression on my face, I open the door. Our RA stands outside, looking just as startled as I feel.

"Is everything okay?" she asks, a note of hesitation in her voice.

I pull on the best poker face I can manage and forced a smile.

"Yeah! No, everything's fine. Great."

Note to self: learn how to lie.

"I thought I heard—"

"Scary movie," I blurt, cutting her off. "Those Jason movies do a number on me. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Oh, uh, okay." She pokes her head inside the room and glances around, looking for who knows what. "Well... switch to a comedy for a while, would ya? People are trying to study."

"Ha! Right. Yeah, will do."

I wait until she makes it a good way down the hall before shutting and locking the door. Leaning back against the heavy metal, I cover my eyes and take long, deep breaths in an effort to rid myself of the anxiety screwing with my heart.

Air... I need air.

I do a one-eighty, unlock the door and dash toward the exit. The hallway is deserted since most of the students are either out celebrating or in their rooms studying. The only noise echoing off the concrete walls is coming from my shoes slapping against the tile floor.

I practically fly down the stairs and land with a grunt on the landing, barely taking time to right myself before pushing out the door. Fresh air slaps me in the face and I inhale like my life depends on it. Naturally, like I've done so many times before, I place a hand over my heart.

"Steady."

I'm already sick of whatever my rebellious heart is trying to do. Not only that, but I'm mad at myself, thinking I could do something so exciting without anyone around. I have limitations, no matter how much I'd like to deny it.

When my lungs calm enough I'm not on the verge of hyperventilating, I decide my only option is to get rid of it.

Standing outside, trying not to draw attention to myself, I stare up at the brick building towering over me.

Did I just... bring something—or someone—into our dorm room?

If I wasn't a believer before, I am now, and realizing just how badly I screwed up makes my stomach roll.

You have to fix this.

Where's a time machine when you need one? I should have reached for the leftover alcohol we have hidden under the sink instead of the demonic cell phone.