Read Online Grave Possession (Wraith 3) by Angel Lawson - Free Book Online
Authors: Angel Lawson
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herself. Touching paintings was a big no-no and Ava knew better. “It looks so real.”
“Like a photograph.”
“It makes me feel so ridiculously inferior.”
“Right? Me, too,” I agreed. “Feeling less than is an emotion I’ve become increasingly familiar with.”
“Maybe I can see your work sometime,” Tony said, ringing up Ava’s purchases.
“Maybe,” I said. “I’d feel sort of weird. Your stuff is really good.”
Ava rolled her eyes. “Jane’s being modest. She’s been using a lot of found materials lately. And the color red. Red. Red. Red.”
“I like red, okay? Picasso had his blue period. I’m in my red one.” I stuck out my tongue. “My personal stuff is okay, I guess. But sculpture? That class is killing me,” I laughed. “Trying new classes is more complicated than I thought.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Tony said, handing Ava her package. “That’s the one thing I’ve learned lately. Reach inside and you can find your inner creative strength – draw on that energy and follow the path it leads you on.”
We left Tony and headed back in the direction of the dorm. “What do you think about Tony’s little speech? Seems a little out there.”
I shrugged, “I guess I know what he means. Like Jeannie using her gift in her artwork – incorporating her premonitions and readings. Or Connor and his tagging. It always ties back to what’s going on in his life. It’s like a roadmap to his psyche.”
“So what does that mean about you?” she asked. “Madam Rosemarie did mention a red aura. Maybe that has something to do with it.”
I shrugged but I knew the answer to this, or suspected at least. Unfortunately, it led to a rabbit hole I wasn’t ready to travel down yet. At least not with anyone but Evan.
Chapter 9
The next Sunday, I exited my dorm and found Connor waiting for me in shorts and running shoes. I brushed past him without speaking and started my route. He followed, easily catching up to my pace. Side by side, we jogged through the city.
Apparently this was going to be a thing.
We passed fountains and historic markers. Bars and churches. Nothing dead crossed our path and we didn’t stop this time, other than to cross streets and avoid pedestrians. I kept my eyes forward and not on the sweat soaking into his shirt or the way his calves were lean and tight. At the intersection near my dorm, he ran off without a goodbye.
Okay, then.
The same thing happened the following week, except I tripped over a dismantled brick in the sidewalk. Connor caught me before I face-planted.
“Thanks,” I said, wiping my hands on my shorts.
“No problem.”
We continued running.
On the third week, rain fell in sheets and I decided to give my student center gym card its inaugural swipe. The brand new facility had everything from weights to cardio machines, a basketball court and pool. After a few tries, I managed to figure out the treadmill and adjusted the levels for a five-mile run. K-thud. K-thud. K-thud. My feet fell into a loud, caveman-sounding rhythm. For some reason all five televisions hanging over the machines were locked on sports channels. No thanks. My eyes shifted to the weight area.
Oh my.
I’d never been one to ogle guys that much. Connor and Louis both had that skinny thing going on in high school. Connor’s height and looks had always made him noticeable, but I’d never obsessed over a guy’s body that much. But now? Maybe my hormones were raging or I was really, really bored, but I couldn’t stop stealthy observing the guys around the gym. Either something happened to boys when they left high school or something had happened to me. But man, the guys in the gym were a complete distraction.
My feet pounded on the rotating belt, but I still heard the loud clink of the weights and the occasional grunt. I focused on a couple of guys in the back who were alternating between lifting weights and pull-ups. Their back muscles rippled
“Like a photograph.”
“It makes me feel so ridiculously inferior.”
“Right? Me, too,” I agreed. “Feeling less than is an emotion I’ve become increasingly familiar with.”
“Maybe I can see your work sometime,” Tony said, ringing up Ava’s purchases.
“Maybe,” I said. “I’d feel sort of weird. Your stuff is really good.”
Ava rolled her eyes. “Jane’s being modest. She’s been using a lot of found materials lately. And the color red. Red. Red. Red.”
“I like red, okay? Picasso had his blue period. I’m in my red one.” I stuck out my tongue. “My personal stuff is okay, I guess. But sculpture? That class is killing me,” I laughed. “Trying new classes is more complicated than I thought.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself,” Tony said, handing Ava her package. “That’s the one thing I’ve learned lately. Reach inside and you can find your inner creative strength – draw on that energy and follow the path it leads you on.”
We left Tony and headed back in the direction of the dorm. “What do you think about Tony’s little speech? Seems a little out there.”
I shrugged, “I guess I know what he means. Like Jeannie using her gift in her artwork – incorporating her premonitions and readings. Or Connor and his tagging. It always ties back to what’s going on in his life. It’s like a roadmap to his psyche.”
“So what does that mean about you?” she asked. “Madam Rosemarie did mention a red aura. Maybe that has something to do with it.”
I shrugged but I knew the answer to this, or suspected at least. Unfortunately, it led to a rabbit hole I wasn’t ready to travel down yet. At least not with anyone but Evan.
Chapter 9
The next Sunday, I exited my dorm and found Connor waiting for me in shorts and running shoes. I brushed past him without speaking and started my route. He followed, easily catching up to my pace. Side by side, we jogged through the city.
Apparently this was going to be a thing.
We passed fountains and historic markers. Bars and churches. Nothing dead crossed our path and we didn’t stop this time, other than to cross streets and avoid pedestrians. I kept my eyes forward and not on the sweat soaking into his shirt or the way his calves were lean and tight. At the intersection near my dorm, he ran off without a goodbye.
Okay, then.
The same thing happened the following week, except I tripped over a dismantled brick in the sidewalk. Connor caught me before I face-planted.
“Thanks,” I said, wiping my hands on my shorts.
“No problem.”
We continued running.
On the third week, rain fell in sheets and I decided to give my student center gym card its inaugural swipe. The brand new facility had everything from weights to cardio machines, a basketball court and pool. After a few tries, I managed to figure out the treadmill and adjusted the levels for a five-mile run. K-thud. K-thud. K-thud. My feet fell into a loud, caveman-sounding rhythm. For some reason all five televisions hanging over the machines were locked on sports channels. No thanks. My eyes shifted to the weight area.
Oh my.
I’d never been one to ogle guys that much. Connor and Louis both had that skinny thing going on in high school. Connor’s height and looks had always made him noticeable, but I’d never obsessed over a guy’s body that much. But now? Maybe my hormones were raging or I was really, really bored, but I couldn’t stop stealthy observing the guys around the gym. Either something happened to boys when they left high school or something had happened to me. But man, the guys in the gym were a complete distraction.
My feet pounded on the rotating belt, but I still heard the loud clink of the weights and the occasional grunt. I focused on a couple of guys in the back who were alternating between lifting weights and pull-ups. Their back muscles rippled
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