Ghost Academy 1: Summer Term, page 13
All of the other women stopped practicing. They each looked stupefied, staring at Nick with disbelief written all over their faces.
Emma was the first one to break the stunned silence in the room. “How’s that possible? Ghosts always have the dominant flow of energy in Limbo.”
Chapter 14
Tone it Down
After Nick and Jessica’s disastrous first round of practice, Professor Walsh designated a larger area of the mats as theirs and pushed the other students further away.
When it was apparent that Jessica wasn’t hurt, Nick agreed to resume practicing. The next three attempts yielded similar results. Nick would almost become intoxicated by the sensation of Jessica’s S.E. when it touched his body, and he would be consumed with the idea of pulling her energy into him when the tendrils reached his sternum. They’d share a brief bond, but she’d inevitably fly through him and end up on the mat.
Other partners were edging closer to maintaining their anchor for the one minute the professor had asked for. Emma and Fern were actually only ten seconds away from reaching the goal, and a couple of the others weren’t too far behind.
As he was offering Jessica yet another hand up off the mat, Nick asked, “How much did you use that time?”
“Full blast. I can’t go any higher, Nicky,” she said apologetically while smoothing down her skirt.
Nick scratched at the back of his neck. “Sorry about all of this. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Jessica swatted at Nick’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Nicky. That’s exactly why there are mats in this classroom. Think of this as tumbling practice. With these legs, you know I did gymnastics as a kid. I promise, I’m totally fine. Besides,” she leaned in and lowered her voice, “those quick blips when we’re temporarily anchored feel…intense.” A slight flush touched her cheeks.
Nick couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I feel it too.” He glanced around the room for a moment. All of the other faces in the room were either locked in grimaces of concentration or smiling at their partners. “So, is that…feeling…when we’re together normal? Are the others feeling connected?”
Jessica’s blue eyes sparkled. “Probably not. I’ve helped a handful of Mediums practice anchoring. It’s always nice, like sharing a special moment with a friend, but this,” she raised an eyebrow and gave him a heated once-over, “is way better. And we’re not even fully anchored yet!”
So he wasn’t the only one. Jessica was enjoying the sensation of being anchored to him, too. This eased Nick’s mind, especially since he kept flinging her onto the mat—and not in the way he really wanted to.
Clearly, their current approach to anchoring wasn’t working. Wasn’t that the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? He needed to do what he did best: troubleshoot.
He puzzled over the steps in his head, trying to isolate the point of failure. Jessica would reach out with her S.E., then he would reach out with his, then the connection was established…then severed. As if their respective S.E. couldn’t agree on the correct connection method.
The answer hit him like the rush of caffeine from his first Monster of the day.
That sounded a lot like the TCP/IP handshake!
Nick turned to Jessica. “What do you know about the Internet?”
“It was invented by Al Gore?”
He barked out a laugh. Based on the slang she used, he assumed she had died in the early 2000s, so it made sense that she would have had some access to the Internet—probably just via dial-up or DSL—but no actual education on it. “I mean, how it works? For example, how your computer can show you a website from a server halfway across the planet?”
Jessica shrugged, but she looked curious. “It seems like magic to me.”
Once again, he laughed.
“When you type in a website’s address, like www.facebook.com, there’s this process that happens called the TCP/IP three-way handshake.”
Her blue eyes went wide for a second, then she smirked. “Come on. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know computers can’t shake hands.”
“Correct. This handshake is just electrical impulses through the wires of the Internet.”
She giggled and grabbed his bicep, pressing her breasts into his arm and temporarily short-circuiting his brain. “You’re even sexier when you get all teacher-y on me. Keep going.”
“Thanks…” He tore his gaze from her impressive cleavage. “Anyway, your computer reaches out to the web server that stores the website you’re looking for and essentially asks to chat and gives some parameters. That’s part one of the handshake. Then, the web server responds to your computer by saying they received your message, and they agree to chat and agree to or negotiate the parameters. That’s part two. Then, your computer responds to the server and says, ‘Cool. Glad we could agree, and we hear each other. Now let’s chat.’ And that’s part three.”
The blonde gaped at him. “But that seems so…simple!”
“Well, there are a lot of complicated processes and protocols around this handshake, but yeah, that’s the gist of it,” he said. “During this process, your computer and the server have to negotiate on some parameters of the chat, like how long they should wait before the other person speaks or how much information we can share at one time, stuff like that.”
He shifted his torso more toward Jessica’s, unconsciously pressing her closer as his excitement grew. “I think we have the three-way handshake down, but our negotiation is off. That’s where our failure is.”
“Let me wrap my head around this.” Her brow furrowed cutely, and she bit her top lip. “Part one of the handshake is my S.E. heading to your S.E. to ask if you want to connect and telling you the rules of how I want to connect. Part two is your S.E. touching mine, agreeing to connect, and agreeing to or negotiating with my rules. Part three ends with my S.E. syncing up with yours based on our mutual agreement.”
Nick nodded, impressed by her quick understanding. “Yeah, that’s—”
“Wait!” She gasped, bouncing a little. “Part one is me asking you on a date, but telling you we have to eat strawberry ice cream on the date. Part two is you agreeing to the date and the ice cream, but you negotiate for chocolate instead. Part three is me agreeing to the chocolate ice cream. And our date begins!”
He shook his head and grinned down at her. “You are gorgeous and brilliant.”
Jessica’s cheeks flushed and she looked away, a shy smile on her lips.
“This time, let’s try to negotiate with our S.E. I’m guessing I have higher S.E. than you?”
She nodded vehemently. “A lot!”
“Okay. So maybe we try to get our S.E. levels to match. You keep yours the same, and I’ll lower mine to try and match yours. Are you game to try again?”
“Yes. I’m ready whenever you are, Nicky.” Jessica let go of his arm and bounced on her feet in front of him.
They started again.
When Jessica’s S.E. raced across to Nick’s body, he envisioned allowing only half of his S.E. to activate.
Nick tensed the muscles in his chest and core and held in a portion of his desire to pull Jessica’s energy in once it reached his sternum. He instead focused on matching her level of S.E.
She didn’t zip through him like she’d done during their earlier practices, but Jessica only remained anchored to Nick for a couple of pleasurable seconds. During those hasty moments, Nick felt the silky sensation of Jessica’s hair brush against his cheek.
He fought against the urge to indulge in the feeling of occupying the same space as Jessica and turned around to help her up off of the mat again. “I think I can fine-tune this. Go lower.”
Jessica’s eyes were closed, but she had a smile on her face when she accepted Nick’s hand up. “I’m just reliving the sensation of your whiskers, Nicky.” She rubbed her cheek against her shoulder. “They’re not too stiff or soft. Just like Goldilocks.” Her eyes shot open. “Wait, did you say that you go lower? Does that mean we can try again?”
“Yeah, I think I can go all the way down to a quarter power. How does that sound?”
“Let’s do it!”
The two of them got into position, and Jessica’s S.E. was practically bubbling out of her shoes as their hands made contact.
Nick flexed and tightened his muscles while the light blue tendrils were still on Jessica’s forearms. When the energy passed to his wrists, Nick had to redouble his efforts.
Just wait. It’s coming. I just have to be patient.
As Jessica’s S.E. reached his pecs, Nick tensed every muscle in his body. He needed to maintain control.
Then it happened.
Jessica’s entire body zipped into the same space as Nick’s, and they were anchored.
Nick opened his eyes. Jessica was nowhere to be found, but his perception was different. Sharper. He focused on a piece of chalk on the other side of the classroom. He could clearly see a crack running down the top quarter of the white writing utensil and even smell the dust from where he stood. The room was suddenly incredibly loud with the echoing voices of the students and Professor Walsh.
A subtle blue hue clouded the edges of his peripheral vision.
He was hit with simultaneous sensations of fingertips tracing over his obliques as his fingers seemingly performed the same action on a soft patch of skin. It sent a shiver through Nick’s entire body, and he never wanted it to end.
Holy crap, Nicky!
That was Jessica’s voice. She was communicating directly into his head.
You're a genius at this. I knew you’d be able to get through anchoring—but not on the first day!
“It’s because I have a good partner. But don’t get too excited. We still need to hold this for over a minute.”
There’s nothing to worry about. Professor Walsh’s one minute drill is for Mediums who have to adjust to pushing out more S.E., not less.
Nick looked around the room. A couple of the other Mediums were sitting at their desks leaning back in their chairs. One had her head between her legs taking in deep breaths while another was laying on her back, panting like an unconditioned wrestler.
See. Emma was right. Ghosts have the dominant flow of S.E. in Limbo, and it’s normally a huge challenge for new Mediums to adjust to their partners. A normal Medium needs to come to this class like fifteen to twenty times before they can complete this drill.
He could feel the tickle of manicured fingernails dragging down his quads while he raced his down two very toned thighs. If he didn’t stop this now, he’d be sporting inappropriate wood in a room full of women.
“I’m probably going to kick myself for asking this, but how do we…unanchor?”
“Fair play, Nick, fair play!” Professor Walsh sashayed across the room. “G’wan, Jessica, sever the anchor.”
Nick wrinkled his nose. “Okay, but how?”
“Do we have to?” Jessica’s voice spoke aloud from the vicinity of Nick’s throat.
“Jesssica, stop acting the maggot and sever the anchor.”
Nicky, she’s going to ask you if you’re tired. If you are, we can totally stop.
Not even close.
Great! That means we can keep going after the Irish madam is sorted out.
Nick was still snickering at Jessica’s comment when he was struck by an odd feeling of his chest being shoved forward. The purple tendrils sped out of his sternum, and Jessica was standing in front of him half a second later.
He was glad to see her, but Nick felt a slight twinge of unhappiness that they had to separate.
The gorgeous blonde’s eyes were closed, but there was a blissful grin on her lips. She fluttered her lids open. “That was incredible, Nicky!” Jessica squeezed his hands and wiggled her hips distractingly.
“Give the fella a moment. He’s likely knackered.”
Nick rolled his shoulders a couple of times and gave a shrug. “Actually, Professor Walsh, I’m totally fine.”
“Are you now?” The orange-haired woman, who looked like she’d be more at home perched on the edge of a piano in a smoky bar instead of a classroom, cocked an eyebrow. The professor proceeded to search Nick’s face for some sort of indication.
“Yeah,” Nick scanned their immediate area of the mat and lowered his voice, “according to the Origin, my Spirit Energy is over 8,000 when I’m fully charged.”
Professor Walsh stumbled back, but Nick was able to reach out to steady her. The Irish woman in the magenta dress allowed herself to be held for a brief moment. “Go on, then.” She let out a breath, stood up, and moved onto the other students in class. She shot Nick a sultry glance over her shoulder when she got halfway across the room.
Jessica quickly held out her hands. “Let’s try walking around once we’re anchored this time, Nicky.”
Nick and Jessica were able to anchor and sever two more times before class ended. All of their experiments with walking, jogging, and other body movements were successful. There were no threats of the anchor breaking accidentally or noticeable stress on Nick’s body.
If anything, Nick was experiencing the opposite of additional strain. It felt like his movements were being amplified. Just like how his vision, hearing, and sense of smell seemed sharper, Nick was keenly aware of how the individual parts of his foot struck the ground during the entirety of his stride.
Through this hypersensitive perception, Nick made tiny adjustments to his jogging gait. Even though he wasn’t a runner, Nick was certain he could easily maintain a brisk speed for over ten miles.
Each anchoring felt easier and more natural. On top of that, the curious and pleasurable sensations he experienced when they were anchored deepened. It felt like their bodies were old friends retelling shared adventures.
Unfortunately, Nick continued to feel the same level of disappointment when they needed to separate. He avoided dwelling on this by concentrating on the positives.
Jessica appeared to be enjoying this as much as he was. Whenever they severed, the blonde seemed to need a moment to collect herself, but she would give his hands a squeeze and a mischievous grin was plastered to her face.
In addition to Jessica’s enjoyment, Nick was happy that it was becoming easier for him to control his muscles to pull with just enough force to match hers when Jessica’s S.E. approached his sternum.
By the time Professor Walsh announced class was over, Nick felt like he’d been anchored to Jessica for hours.
Oh, I don’t want you to go. You’re so gentle.
Gentle? What do you mean?
Jessica severed the anchor and was standing in front of Nick with her eyes closed and a slight blush on her cheeks.
Other partners were congratulating one another on their progress during class as the Mediums gathered their things to walk out.
Nick squeezed Jessica’s hands and leaned in when she opened her beautiful blue eyes. “I’m not complaining, but what was I being gentle about?”
Her cheeks became a shade darker. “It’s nothing bad. However, can you let me keep it a secret a tiny bit longer? I promise I’ll tell you the next time we anchor.”
Chapter 15
Shock and Awe
Since Jessica needed to assist in Professor Walsh’s next class, Nick agreed to meet her in the admin building before he crossed back to the mortal world.
After he said goodbye, Nick’s head was buzzing. The blonde’s teasing promise aside, he felt like they were beginning to establish a bond. On top of that, he got the sense that nailing down anchoring was a huge step forward in helping Ben.
As he entered his final class of the day, Defensive Spells 101, Nick was cautiously optimistic that he’d be able to start working with ghosts to relieve their burdens in the near future.
Then it’s onto getting rid of that damned nekros.
He stepped into room 192 of Martial Hall. The space reminded him of a gymnasium rather than a classroom. While there weren’t any basketball hoops or poles to tethers for nets, the sprawling space had hardwood floors and lines painted on the floor. A row of bench-style seats near the door was half full of chatting women.
At the back of the room, there were a dozen crude black images of Stalkers painted on boards and propped up like targets.
“Nick, I presume?” A gruff, but unmistakably female voice, asked from beside him.
He turned his attention away from the painted targets to see a rough woman in her late forties stop in front of him. She had short brown hair with a red bandana as a hair band, tied at the top of her head. Fine wrinkles had cracked along her forehead, at the corners of her eyes, and around her mouth. She wore a dusty white shirt and grease-stained overalls. She looked oddly similar to that old World War II poster of Rosie the Riveter.
“Yep, that’s me.”
The woman extended a callused hand for him to shake. “Ruth Hughes, professor for defensive spells.” Her dark eyes narrowed, and she examined Nick’s palm after their handshake. “I’m guessing you work at a desk.”
“I do, but I’m not above getting my hands dirty.”
Professor Hughes grunted and motioned for him to follow her toward the line of seated students.
Just before they reached the benches, the professor called over her shoulder, “Mollie sent word that you were already able to pin down anchoring.”
“Yeah, I was. My partner, Jessica, and I anchored and severed three times in my previous class.” He found a spot on the nearest bench and sat.
Professor Hughes stood a dozen or so feet in front of the bench and surveyed her students. When her scanning was finished, she shrugged and said, “That’ll do. You’re going to anchor with Daisy there,” she pointed to an African American woman wearing a tank top and jeans, “and hopefully you’ll be able to help me convince these sourpusses that performing the shock spell more than once isn’t the hardest thing in the world.”
This was followed by a number of groans.
Anchoring was still fresh in Nick’s mind, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about practicing it with another person. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but his gut was telling him the connection he created with Jessica was intimate and special. Wouldn’t it be sort of awkward for him to share that connection with another ghost he’d just met?
