Ghost Academy 1: Summer Term, page 17
When the woman in the purple swimsuit noticed Nick looking at her, she let out a tiny squeak and ran further into the building.
Figuring she was just a shy ghost, Nick turned back to Emma. He felt a little bit like a jerk for not catching exactly what she’d asked, but he was too embarrassed to ask her to repeat herself. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to Monday’s anchoring class.”
“Great! I’ll tell Jessica if I see her first. She’ll be done meeting with the Dean in plenty of time for your second class.”
A sense of relief went through Nick. He had wanted to ask about the blonde’s whereabouts the moment he arrived. Then he thought about the powerful, imposing Dean. “Why is she meeting with the Dean? And what does that have to do with my second class?”
Emma raised a brow at him. “Jessica said she was going to ask the Dean if she can be reassigned. She’s supposed to be an assistant in anchoring classes today, but she wanted to switch and assist with ice magic in order to be your partner.”
Nick was speechless for a moment. Jessica wanted to be with him so much that she was willing to face the Dean to make it happen?
“Jessica wants to pair up with you in Professor Crawford’s practical class.” Emma looked down and fidgeted with some of the papers on the desk. “I mean, even Professor Hughes wasn’t able to anchor with you, so it makes sense for you to stick with someone you’ve had success with.”
While Emma’s comments could have been taken as a compliment, Nick only felt frustrated with himself. He knew anchoring with other ghosts was the first step to easing their burdens and saving Ben. As far as Nick saw it, he wasn’t skilled enough to work with anyone besides Jessica. Where would that leave him once he’d helped her ease her burden, and she went to the Beyond?
A pang hit his chest. He’d only just met Jessica, but he wanted to learn more about her. She was quickly becoming important to him.
“Yeah, you’re right. It seems like Jessica’s the only one I can work with. I’m glad she’s willing to rearrange her duties for me, but I need to get better at working with other ghosts.”
Emma slowly got up and walked around the desk. “We could try to switch partners on Monday. I’m not at the top of the power rankings, but my S.E.’s sort of high.”
“As long as we stay on the mats, I’m game if you are.”
The thin ghost grinned and gave Nick a smack on the back. Even though her eyes had heavy bags and her teeth were yellowed, he could see that, at one point, she had been a pretty girl. “Hell yeah! Now, let’s get you to Glacier Hall.”
Nick followed Emma through the halls. Along the way, he learned that Emma had been in Limbo for nearly thirty years. Like most of the ghosts at the academy, she was a Shade. She was from Auburn, Washington, and Emma knew her burden was centered on a disagreement with a friend. Anything beyond that was fuzzy.
As Nick held a door for Emma, a thought occurred to him. “The way the system is, it’s kind of cruel.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ghosts give up their memories in order to stay safe. I don’t know, it just seems cruel.”
Emma shrugged. “On the other hand, we’re protected. Unless our hourglass empties, we don’t have to worry about becoming a Wraith. I guess, even in death, nothing’s free. That’s the law of equal exchange.”
Nick still wasn’t sure about this law everyone kept referencing. Laws were made by someone. Who got to choose what was “equal” to someone’s memories?
“But how can you ease your burden if you don’t remember it? I’m still confused by that.”
“A ghost’s memories get jogged or sparked by something that affected them deeply,” Emma began. “It can be a visual thing or a smell associated with your burden. Even a particular sound. That’s why it’s important for Mediums to spend time with ghosts in the mortal world. If we stay here in Limbo, there’s nothing we recognize from our time alive. So there’s no chance for the memories to return.”
They entered Glacier Hall from the quad. In the mortal world, it would have been the humanities building, also known as Brower Hall. It was a traditional college building, with classrooms of various sizes running on either side of the halls. Comfy study areas, with colorful bean bag chairs and puffy ottomans, were accessible at both ends of the hall. Unlike Brower Hall, the lounge area in the center of the building had no vending machines filled with snacks and sugary drinks, just tables and chairs for students to relax in between classes.
Nick couldn’t suppress a sudden shiver as goosebumps raced down his arms. Glacier Hall lived up to its name in temperature.
Emma and Nick said their goodbyes outside of room 166, and Nick thought about the road ahead of him. He’d slightly improved his S.E. control, but did that mean his ability to anchor with ghosts had also been strengthened?
With this thought still tumbling around in his head, Nick walked into his class. If he was being honest, the room itself looked exactly the same as his first class with Professor Moonbeam. There was a teaching podium in the center, and twenty-odd desks were arranged in a semicircle around it.
The classroom may have looked like the Medium 101 room, but the professors were not even remotely alike. Where the weathered, hippie woman he’d met yesterday had appeared to be relaxing behind the podium when he walked into class, the woman in front of him was in a yellow leotard doing…aerobics.
His presumed professor was on the ground with her feet and elbows supporting her weight as she expertly arched her back and butt up toward the ceiling. Initially, her speed and semi-sexually exaggerated thrusts made Nick think she was just messing with him. When he looked closer, Nick realized the woman was performing hip bridges in the style of an aerobic instructor from forty years ago.
The professor’s athletic body was encased in a skintight, very high cut, bright yellow leotard and neon pink slouchy leg warmers. He had to admit she was in great shape, but he was a little uncomfortable checking out a woman old enough to be his mom. Her face appeared like shiny, immovable plastic, and she had that overly-friendly, almost fanatical smile of a workout instructor desperately trying to sell their patented fitness plan.
“Come on, ladies! You’ve got to keep your heart rates up if you want to turn some heads and tighten those glutes. It’s almost swimsuit season,” she beamed with unnaturally white teeth, thrusting her hips up even faster.
The three Mediums who were already in class had apparently grown accustomed to seeing their professor jazzercising before class because none of them reacted to her. They seemed more concerned with leafing through their notebooks or finding a writing utensil.
Nick took a seat and kept his eyes on the exercising woman’s face. “Hi. I’m Nick, and I think I’m your newest student.”
“Hiyah, Nick! I’m Denise Crawford,” she responded, not missing a beat in her timed thrusting. “Care to join me for a round of warmups before I start class?”
He looked down at his red polo, tan slacks, and brown dress shoes. “Thanks, but I already hit the gym today. Maybe next time.”
The active professor looked like she was going to say something in response, but another voice cut her off.
“Ugh, he’s in this class, too?”
Nick turned toward the vaguely familiar voice. Sure enough, Haeun, the pissy-looking Asian woman he’d met yesterday, was in the doorway wearing the same scowl she’d worn during his entire first class.
Haeun, wearing another set of matching stretchy yoga gear, marched in and stopped at a desk on the opposite side of the room from Nick. She unslung her backpack and sat down with an audible huff.
“Now that Haeun’s here, we can get started,” Professor Crawford said, flipping over to briefly hold a downward dog pose before getting up from the floor.
The professor picked up a piece of chalk and did an equal number of wrist circles in clockwise and counterclockwise directions. When she seemed satisfied, she turned to the board and began writing in bold, blocky letters.
When she was finished, the professor stepped away from the blackboard, though she continued rotating her hips in a slow clockwise movement like she was practicing her hula hoop moves.
On the board were four bulleted points.
Non-verbal Communication
Active Listening
Empathy
Feedback
“So many Shades carry a burden that’s centered on a misunderstanding with another person. As Mediums with a Shade affinity, your job will involve breaking through a person’s surface layer to see what’s underneath, like peeking under those emotional shoulder pads. Sometimes this will involve a bit of investigating, but more often than not, you’re going to need to be effective communicators. You have to flex your voices like you flex your muscles.”
Haeun raised her hand. “I’ve already taken a communications class at my real school. Can I just go to an anchoring class? I’d like to stop wasting my life and get on with my commitment to the Dean.” She mulishly crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Professor Crawford didn’t give the angry student an immediate answer. Instead she pulled her fingers back to stretch her wrists and forearms. “We’ll discuss you attending an alternative class once you’ve demonstrated mastery of this material, Ms. Kim. Just like building muscle, mastering this takes reps, sweat, and a whole lotta heart. We are all still climbing this hill together.”
“Um, excuse you. The last thing I need is for a guy who—let’s face it—probably shouldn’t be here to know my full name,” Haeun shot back.
Nick was sick of this shit. He turned toward Haeun. “Nick Summerland. There, now you know my full name, too.” He faced the front and added, “Professor Crawford, if I may?”
The professor didn’t seem fazed by Haeun’s bitchiness, but her blinding smile was strained. “Go right ahead, Nick.”
“Thank you.” Nick shifted around again to face his classmate. He’d been forced to take two eight-hour training sessions on workplace communication and resolving conflict at Knight Watch after two employees had an all-out screaming match in the lobby. As much as he wanted to ignore Haeun or be equally shitty back to her, he knew that was the coward’s way out. Bullies need to be confronted head-on.
He made direct eye contact with her. “Maybe I remind you of someone you don’t like or who caused you some trouble in the past. I don’t know, and frankly it doesn’t matter. The fact is, I don’t know you, and I’ve done nothing to warrant your hostility. Now, unless I’m way off, one of the points our professor’s trying to make is that your body language clearly communicates that you’re closed off and disinterested.”
“While I’d prefer that you didn’t call on a specific student to demonstrate a negative example, I will agree with you, Nick.” The professor wrote the words “positive examples” and “negative examples” on the board.
Haeun scooped up her notebook, threw it into her bag, and stood up. “This is bullshit. I’m going to tell the Dean I’m being harassed by a student and a staff member.” She glared at Nick and Professor Crawford as she stormed across the room and muttered, “Fucking uppity ghosts causing me to waste more of my fucking life.”
“Now Ms. Kim, we’re here to lift each other up, not knock anyone down—” the professor started, but Haeun was out the door without a backward glance. Nick felt bad for the professor as she gave her remaining students another superficial smile. “Clearly, I need to work on my own communication skills. I’ve done more lunges in my life than I’ve made good decisions—but hey, at least my glutes are great!”
Any tension that had built up after Haeun’s tantrum was let out with the first round of giggles. Professor Crawford joined in, but stopped after a few seconds and slapped her own hand.
“See, even your silly prof isn’t always right. I was seeking feedback,” she underlined the same word on the board, “but I didn’t demonstrate empathy toward Haeun.” She circled the word “empathy” on the board. “Let’s reexamine the situation and try to learn from it. Let’s try to imagine something like this happening in the field with another person. How can we demonstrate empathy in conversation where the other person isn’t helping us effectively communicate?”
One of the other students, a woman in her forties with frizzy, red hair and a round face, raised her hand. “Maybe validating Haeun’s—”
“Ah, Crystal, dear. Please remember, we’re imagining, so we don’t want to make this about what just happened.”
“Right, sorry. Validating the other person’s feelings is important. For example, people tend to get upset if they feel like something is being taken from them.”
“You’re a star, Crystal! Why might a communication partner feel frustrated by hearing about a topic for a second time?”
Crystal seemed to consider the professor’s question. “They think they already know everything and feel like their communication partner is just covering familiar territory.”
Nick raised his hand, and the professor pointed at him. “While I completely agree with her second point, I think the initial one is the point of emphasis in a situation like we saw.”
“Nick, we’re not supposed to be focusing on what happened in class specifically,” Professor Crawford chided gently, moving into a standing calf stretch.
He tried to select his words wisely. “Sorry, professor. However, I think what we witnessed was an example of someone shutting down because they think something was unjustly taken from them.”
At least, that’s what it had sounded like to him.
The rest of the class passed without any drama. Nick took notes on tactics for employing all of the four tenets of interpersonal communication as well as positive and negative examples of what to look for when talking to other people. Halfway through, the professor had all of the students practice using these tactics while discussing mundane topics.
At first, it felt silly to focus on another person’s feedback while he talked about liking Monster more than Red Bull. By the time Nick was speaking to his second partner, and he noticed a slight eye movement that indicated boredom, he started to see the value in these exercises.
One thing that wouldn’t stop occupying space in the back of Nick’s mind was exactly why Haeun was so pissed. Was it really just because he was a guy, and she didn’t like the idea of a man in what she thought was supposed to be an environment specifically designated for women? Maybe, but Nick suspected there was something else. The way she kept referring to her wasted time made Nick feel like Haeun was more concerned about herself than him.
Was it possible that she wasn’t in Limbo by choice?
Professor Crawford pulled Nick aside after class. When the professor explained she was going to be slightly late for the next class due to a necessary discussion with the Dean, he found it a bit awkward. Why did she wait until the end of class to say something, and why was she telling only him?
Figuring Professor Crawford was using this as an extension of their lesson on effective communication, Nick headed into the hallway with the intention of sharing the news of the delay with his classmates. Only, all of them were gone.
Nick quickly tracked down room 134. Like the room where he’d practiced his shock spell, this space was huge. The size of the room was where the similarities ended, though. This appeared to be purpose-built.
The floor was covered in square, white tiles. Thick rubber mats with hexagonal patterns were laid on top of them, and numerous circles the size of softballs were cut out of the mats for access to drains. It reminded him of a restaurant kitchen where he’d worked as a part-time dishwasher during high school.
Rectangular white tiles also covered the walls. Hand-painted murals in light blue gave the room some character. The clearest scene was on the eastern wall in Nick’s direct line of sight. It depicted a snowy, serene mountain landscape behind a forest of frosted cedars.
Nick took a few moments to appreciate the artistry, but eventually started to feel weird since he was still the only student in the room. Another few minutes passed with no professor or students, so he decided to explore more of Glacier Hall.
He roamed the chilly hallways, occasionally looking through windows and poking his head into classrooms. To be honest, it wasn’t the most interesting building.
“Hey, uh, you lost or something?”
Nick turned to see a gorgeous redhead behind him. Even though Lotus had only pointed at her once, Nick recognized Heather from his first trip to Limbo.
Heather was average height, with a pale complexion flecked with freckles. She stood with her hands on her hips, clad in practically painted-on dark blue skinny jeans above red Converse sneakers. While most of her body was lithe, the swell of her breasts was pronounced beneath her tight black t-shirt bearing the words “The Jayhawks” in white, orange, and blue. Her red hair was cut slightly above her shoulders in a choppy, semi-punk style that perfectly suited her features.
Heather had a great body, but her heart-shaped face really held Nick’s attention. Her emerald green eyes were thickly lashed and lined with black in a way that emphasized their large size. A cute, pert nose smattered in freckles sat above the deep coral, pouty lips of a makeup model. The entire package was stunning.
She crossed her arms, looking bored. Her beautiful eyes flitted in several directions but not at him.
Nick took note of Heather’s non-verbals. Figuring this was a good time to practice what he’d just learned, Nick adopted an open stance with his palms out to demonstrate he was ready to effectively communicate with her. He used one of the verbal approaches covered in class. “I know we haven’t really talked with each other, but I’m sensing a little bit of resistance. Is there something on your mind?”
Heather heaved out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Dude, are you practicing your interpersonal communication tactics on me?”
