“Can I verify that we both think whatever is going on with Kat is some more paranormal bullshit?” Cara asks straightforwardly, finally abandoning her angry packing to sit next to me on the bed. “That I lost a ponytail worth of hair and got groped by a ghost for nothing?”
“I don’t know what to think,” I tell her honestly, grabbing her hand in mine reassuringly. “I’m hoping she’s just acting strangely as a result of our traumatic night.”
“So what’s the plan?” Cara sighs, letting her head drop onto my shoulder, and I breathe in her coconut-scented flaxen hair with a slight smile. Every time she’s with me I am comforted, centered. Amidst all the men and women I’ve dated, she has proven to be the missing piece of the puzzle in my life. A jagged, colorful, crazy piece that doesn’t seem like it could possibly fit until it does and then you wonder how you never saw it before.
“I’ll drop in and see what’s going on, and then hopefully we can make our flight this evening.” I reach my hand up to hug her face.
“Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie?” Cara asks, forcing my head over to look at her, her eyes are expressive and I can almost see an exasperated sigh in them. “This dead bitch probably possessed Kat and is living through her.”
“That’s absolutely ridiculous,” I throw my head back to laugh.
“Laugh now,” Cara warns, lifting her eyebrows and I’m unable to discern whether she's joking or not. “But you know what happens to the well meaning one in the group.”
“It’s usually the buxom, mouthy, blonde girl who isn’t part of the core group that eats it first,” I retort, watching her face dissolve into a smile.
“Good point,” Cara laughs. “On that note I’ll go ahead and stay here while you go investigate the exorcism in Kat’s suite. Tell Beelzebub I say hiiii.”
I kiss her quickly and head over to Kat’s room, letting Erik’s words ring through my head. He’d called this morning to ask if I’d seen Kat and noticed anything off about her. He’d be embarrassed and loath to admit that she’d come on too strongly and that her whole aura had been off as she’d pushed him to drink, knowing his past.
I’d really been at a loss for what to say. While it was true that Kat and I hadn’t been close for years, in our short reunion I felt positive that most aspects of her had remained much the same. Which indicated that Kat suddenly turning into a stripping siren who tries to ply a recovering alcoholic with wine before forcing herself on him doesn’t seem in character.
I knock gingerly on Kat’s door and straighten nervously as she slowly opens the door. Her eyes register no pleasure at seeing me, just cool appraisal. She’s dressed in crisp, white pants and a lacy, fitted, scoop neck top. It’s a royal blue which captures her imperious expression perfectly. Her hair is swept up into a bun that seems dated and severe for her personal style. Her makeup is sparse, though her face is as supple and classically beautiful as it has always been.
“Hi,” I say, forcing a smile that is met by a blank face.
In lieu of an answer Kat shrugs, leaves the door open and saunters back inside. I take the open door as an invitation and follow her in wearily. I’m immediately struck by the cleanliness in the suite. Nary a snack, article of clothing or trash pile in sight. It is immaculate.
“Wow,” I remark. “Did you get housekeeping in here?”
“No,” she says flatly. “Living in squalor makes me ill.”
“You must have been chronically sick for the last 28 years then,” I joke, as she turns to look at me as though my very presence also makes her sick.
“What can I do for you?” she says, sitting on the bed, her posture rigid as she stares at me impatiently.
“I came to check in and say goodbye,” I answer, stung by her air of haughty disdain as she gives me nothing in the form of friendly encouragement. I feel inconvenient and bothersome as she observes me haughtily, and it’s clear that is what she intends me to experience.
“Goodbye, Kayla,” she says icily, motioning to the door.
I lift my eyebrows and ignore her as I walk to the window and peer out at the quaint, tree-lined streets sitting sleepily below. Wholesome looking and wicked below the surface, like the woman behind me. What is wrong with her?
“Have I done something to offend you?” I ask, turning and yelping in surprise when I come face to face with Kat, who has silently come to stand right behind me. She’s so close that our bodies are nearly touching, and her face is malevolent, threatening even, and I begin to second guess my decision to come here.
“I think it’s time to take your leave,” Kat orders tautly, eyes narrowing sinisterly.
I feel the danger in the room acutely, and know without a doubt that the woman that stands before me is just a shell of Kat. It’s her face, but it’s the only similarity. I swallow and back away, my head hitting the window glass.
“It looks like you’ve seen a ghost, Kayla,” Kat sneers, leaning her head forward to appraise me.
“I’ll just head out,” I say, edging past her and ignoring her comment. “It was great to see you again.”
“Hmm,” is her only answer as she walks uncomfortably close behind me all the way to the door, where she almost pushes me out before slamming it behind me.
I am shaking with leftover fright, but try to retain my dignity by not scurrying like a rat back to my room. Her eyes stay
