Page 10 of Bump in the Night

Hm. Do I feel like myself?

…Yes and no.

There are no strange voices in my head; no spirits trying to elbow me out of my own body. No forces compelling me to stand this close to Arthur, our bodies pressed together, spinning slowly in the orphaned moonlight.

So I think I’m myself. But I’m also feeling… braver. Bolder. Like a dial has spun in my brain, drowning out my usual inhibitions and making me giddier. Reckless.

What happens in the haunted attic stays in the haunted attic. Right?

“Penny?”

Pushing onto my toes, I kiss him square on the mouth, pouring all my longing and admiration into the kiss. And it feels so right, so perfect, it sends happy little tingles through my whole body—but Arthur goes wooden against me, his expression dismayed. I stagger backward out of his hold, horrified.

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Now he’s going to think I’m some crazy groupie or something. Kissing him because he’s famous. So humiliating.

“I… ah…” Arthur shakes his head like he wants to clear it. “Penny? Was that—?”

“Possession,” I say quickly, because the last thing I want to do right now is own up to my tragic crush. Not when Arthur went stiff as a horrified board when I kissed him. Not when he’s blinking at me now like the thought of us two never even occurred to him, and he’s disturbed by the very idea. “Um, yeah. Guess the ghost is into you. Sorry.”

The record player croons on, the sound crackly and faded. We both stand still, staring at each other.

I’m breathing too hard. It’s so loud and obvious, and I press my lips together and try to breathe through my nose.

Arthur’s eyes are still silver behind his glasses. Are mine?

“Perhaps that’s enough of the attic,” he says at last, smoothing down the front of his shirt. “Why don’t we check the library?”

Oookay. Arthur’s not sending me home with my tail between my legs; he’s not even insisting we call it a night. He wants to keep looking. That’s sweet of him.

But… was the kiss really that bad? Because I can still feel it. My lips are tingling.

“Library sounds good,” I croak.

Four

Arthur

It’s been twenty minutes since The Attic Incident, and Penny has barely said a word. She leads the way through Hennigin Hall’s upper corridors, swiping distractedly at dangling curtain cords and fringed lampshades, and I would happily sign over my life savings if it meant I could hear her thoughts.

“Lots of rumors about the library,” I say, and the sound of my voice is jarring after all this quiet. “Lots of potential ghosts.”

Penny grunts. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I trail after her.

Is she disgusted by the kiss? If something took hold of her body, if something made her do that, perhaps she doesn’t want to be around me anymore in case it happens again. It must have been an awful experience for her.

Yet my traitorous body warms at the memory, my heart pumping faster and blood rushing through my veins.

No. It’s terrible that I enjoyed it. That I desperately want another taste.

She was possessed. What is wrong with me?

“If you’ve had enough, ah, encounters for one night, we could go back to the room—”

“It’s fine.” Penny shoots a wobbly smile over her shoulder. “I’m fine. Let’s go to the library. Really, I’m glad you still want to look.”

Well, of course I still want to look. Even with this painful awkwardness between us, I never want this night to end. Because what if Penny leaves tomorrow and I never see her again? What if she haunts me for the rest of my life: the young woman who I desperately wanted to keep, but who couldn’t get away from me fast enough?

---