“We’re not googling exorcists, Dylan.”
“Why not? We googled murder clubs. This feels like a natural progression.”
She pauses. Looks at me. “That’s actually a fair point.”
“Right?”
“Still not googling exorcists.” She heads toward the bathroom. “If I’m not back in five minutes, assume I’ve been possessed and salt the doorway.”
“ALEX.”
“Kidding!” She calls back. “Mostly.”
I dive under her covers. Because I am not going back to my room. No. I do not think so. Not tonight and maybe perhaps never again. We will have to trade rooms. That’s the only answer here. She can have the haunted room. She’s better equipped.
Without an ounce of hesitation, she walks toward the bathroom. Just walks. Like there isn’t possibly a ghost in there. Like this is normal.
She flicks on the bathroom light. The fluorescent buzz fills the silence.
Then she walks into my room.
I can’t watch. I want to be brave. Want to be the kind of person who faces their fears.
But I’m not that person.
So like the chickenshit I am, I dive under the covers.
“Seriously, Dylan,” I mutter to myself from under the blanket. “You’re a grown-ass woman. The least you can do is come out.”
I flip the blanket down.
And see a shadow in the bathroom doorway.
Human-shaped. Dark. Distinctly not Alex-shaped because Alex is?—
I scream.
The shadow moves. Steps forward into the light.
It’s Alex.
I stop screaming. Suck in air. My hand over my mouth.
Alex in the bathroom. Looking at me. Confused.
But—
But Alex is also in my room. The light spills from my bedroom behind her. Movement sounds drift through the walls.
Which means the shadow in the bathroom isn’t?—
I scream again.
Alex rushes from my bedroom into the bathroom. “What? What happened?”
That is indeed Alex. The real Alex. Solid Alex wearing her sleep shirt and glasses and looking at me like I’ve lost my entire mind.
Which means the shadow I saw was?—
