Spirits Rising by Krista D Ball

relentless gale. Rain hammered the windows, each drop smashing against the glass like small pebbles. Between the howling wind and the cold rain, the damp cold settled into my bones. Even with both the oil and wood furnaces going full blast, I couldn’t get warm. It was like nature herself hung a sign up:
    Welcome to Newfoundland. Got what it takes?
    I heard Jeremy’s low voice mutter something in Donna’s ear, something about warming her up. She shooshed him and swatted his hand, giving me an embarrassed look. Irrational, childish jealousy seized me. I knew it was irrational and childish. I knew it was selfish. And I didn’t care. I couldn’t spend not another second with Jeremy and Donna in my house. Since they couldn’t go back to Jeremy’s, I’d just have to leave.
    Misty Monroe never had to put up with this shit.
    “Well,” I said, closing my book a little harder than necessary. “I’m going to spend the night at Mrs. Saunders’s. I promised her that I would.” If I had to spend one more moment around the happy couple, I would go all Buffy on their asses and stake them to the sofa. I stood up and announced, “Help yourselves to whatever’s in the fridge.”
    I heard their protests but pretended not to as I rushed upstairs two steps at a time. I pulled a reusable grocery bag from the upstairs closet and went into my bedroom to stuff clothes into it. Tears welled up in my eyes. I angrily swiped at my face. Why wouldn’t I just get over him? Why couldn’t I just start dating? Why couldn’t I stake him to the friggin’ sofa and be done with him?
    The bag refused to yield anymore room and I looked down. I’d stuffed the entire contents of my underwear drawer into it. I sat on the edge of my bed, letting out a long breath. It didn’t calm me, so I tried again. My pounding heart slowed. What was wrong with me?
    Beyond the Wonder Couple, things had been tense the last couple of weeks. Two teenage girls, both fourteen, both best friends, had killed themselves in some kind of bizarre suicide pact. They lied about staying at the other’s house, went out behind the school, and shared a bag of pretzels and a bottle of drano. One of the girls was lucky enough to have asphyxiated long before burning to death. The other was apparently still alive when some other kids found her.
    To say it had been rough would have been an understatement. The school had called me in to work with the students. They had a guidance counsellor on staff already, but my background was grief counselling, so I was pulled in to help by the school board. Rough job.
    I mean, I’m trained to help people deal with grief, but being trained to do something is easier than being able to handle it. It’s part of the reason I took part-time and contract jobs like this across the province; it was easier on my nerves.
    Talking to those kids who’d found their friends, burned and dead. And those parents. Shit. I ran a shaky hand through my hair. I knew those girls. Sandra Simms and Vicki Goosney. They were amongst the people who stood beside me while I tried to banish a wild supernatural brawl between Viking ghosts and the ancient native spirits that haunted the region. They’d stood out there in the cold and held their ground against the supernatural.
    And now they were dead.
    “Rach, you all right?”
    I sucked in a breath and closed my eyes at the sound of Jeremy’s voice. “Just needed a minute alone.”
    The floorboards creaked and I looked over at him. He was leaning against my bedroom door frame, causal as you please, sporting faded jeans and a snug grey T-Shirt. “If we’re crowding you, I’ll get a hotel or go stay with someone from work.”
    I waved him off. “No, it’s not that.” That wasn’t completely the truth, nor was it a lie. I had a lot going on.
    “Those kids still bothering you?”
    Jeremy had been on a call out of town when the girls were found. They’d called in the special unit from St. John’s, who’d taken over