Possess

“Okay.”
    “Excellent. Just be careful.”
    Be careful? Of Father Santos? “I’ll try.”
    Bridget glanced at the clock on the wall. Five minutes until the end of the period. She sat motionless in her chair, waiting for Monsignor to say something else, but he just stared at her, through her, while she fidgeted with the zipper on her sweater. There was one more question she wanted to ask, but she was afraid of the answer.
    “Monsignor?” she said at last.
    “Hmm?” He seemed like he’d forgotten she was there.
    “Do you think it will just go away? This new ability of mine?”
    “Go away? Why would it do that?”
    Because I want it to? “I don’t know.”
    “No, Bridget. It will not just go away. This is who you are now. You need to accept that.”
    The final bell rang, and Bridget forced herself to stand up. Her legs felt weak. She’d been hoping for a different answer.
    “Next week then, shall we?” Monsignor said as she shuffled toward the door. “Unless something comes up?”
    “Sure.” Unless I throw myself in front of a Muni bus before then.
    “Have a blessed day, Bridget.”
    Yeah. Blessed.

Seven
    B RIDGET PLANTED HER FOREHEAD AGAINST her locker as she slowly dialed the combination. She felt deflated. First Father Santos showed up as her new history teacher, then Monsignor basically told her that she’d be stuck hearing demons for the rest of her life. Hell, getting grounded was like the best part of her week.
    She banged her head rhythmically. Bam, bam, bam . Yeah, it was all perfectly wonderful, her life at the moment. What else could happen? What else could possibly go wrong?
    “What was that all about?”
    Bridget snapped her head up to find Hector leaning against the next locker, arms folded across his chest, eyebrows raised. She’d made it to Latin class just in time and had darted out as soon as the bell rang, avoiding conversation with Hector and Peter. She just wasn’t in the mood.
    “Um . . .” Had he seen her coming out of Monsignor’s office? She wasn’t sure how she could explain that one away.
    “Are you in trouble with the new history teacher already? Is that why you ditched me after class?” Hector continued.
    Bridget let out a breath. Oh, that . She opened her locker door casually. “It’s nothing.”
    “Nothing? You looked like you’d seen a ghost when he asked to talk to you.”
    “Don’t be stupid.” Bridget positioned her locker door so Hector couldn’t see her face. Not a ghost, silly. He just wants to know how I can exorcise demons.
    “Well?” Hector prodded.
    “Your eyeliner is smudged,” she lied, hoping to change the subject.
    “No, it’s not.” He waited for a moment, just like her mom did when she was expecting a lie but hoping for the truth. “Why are you acting all weird?”
    Bridget rolled her eyes. “I’m not acting weird.” I am weird.
    “Then what did he want?”
    Bridget peered at Hector through the slats in her locker door. “You don’t want to know.”
    He grabbed the door and swung it open so he could see her face. “Try me.”
    Bridget pursed her lips, weighing her options. On the one hand, she could just lie to him. He’d know, of course, but he’d also let it go. Hector avoided confrontation like it was a herpes flare-up. On the other hand, if there was anyone she should tell, anyone who would believe her, be on her side no matter what, it would be her best friend.
    She took a deep breath. “He wants to talk to me before school tomorrow,” she said, dropping her voice. “About this thing I can do.” Wow, did she really just explain her freaky new exorcism skills as “this thing I can do”? Like she was going to tie a cherry stem into a knot with her tongue or show off a double-jointed thumb?
    Hector turned his head to the side. “What thing ?”
    Hope you can handle this, Hector. “I can, like, kinda hear things. Voices that aren’t there.”
    It wasn’t until the words came out of her mouth that she realized how utterly and completely lame they sounded.
    Hector shook his head; the gelled spikes of his hair stood firm and immovable. “Fine, Ghost Whisperer, don’t tell me. You walking by the library, or do you have to go straight home?”
    Bridget blinked. He thought she was being a smartass. Not that she blamed him. It was probably for the best.
    She hauled out the last of her books and swung her backpack over one shoulder. “C’mon, I’ll walk you as far as the park.”
    Hector and Bridget dodged