A Ghostly Romance

I unlocked the front door after my horrible afternoon. I expected it to go a lot better. Even though Michael kept trying to reassure me things would get better, it didn't help much. I walked up the stairs saying a brief "hello" to my parents.

"Danielle?" My mom said, at the foot of the stairs. I stopped at my bedroom door. She never called me Danielle.

"'Danielle'?" Michael repeated, sitting on my bed. "Since when does anyone call you that?"

I shrugged and threw my towel on my bedroom floor before going downstairs. "What is it, mom?"

"You didn't say hello to Richard," she said quietly, tilting her heard towards the couch.

I looked over and saw a strange boy sitting in the living room. He had short, dirty blonde hair and thick, black glasses that were covered in black electric tape. He had small, brown eyes that looked more like slits to me, and horrible acne all over his face. I tried not to judge people but it was too hard for me to look past the black heads that covered his cheeks, nose, and chin.

"Hi," I mumbled. My first thought of him was disgust. I was ashamed of myself for feeling this way. It wasn't just his looks that turned me away, but there was something else about him that I couldn't put my finger on, that I knew didn't like.

"Long time no see," he said, standing up, extending his hand towards me. He was about three inches taller than me, I noticed. I looked down at his hand and saw that his chewed down fingernails had black dirt underneath them, and his hand had smudged pen writing. I hesitated before taking his hand in mind, making sure to remember to wash my hands as soon as I got away from him. He unexpectedly pulled me into a hug and a wave of bad body odor hit me...hard. I tried my best not to gag and push him away from me.

I was always a fan of good hygiene. Take a shower every day, wash my hands whenever I'm going to eat or touch something that looks dirty. I've seen homeless people that looked better than him!

"You smell nice," he said, stepping away.

"Thanks, I guess," I said, looking over my shoulder at my mom who just shrugged. This dude gave me a really creepy feeling. "I'm going to...go to my room and let you get settled in."

I bolted up the stairs, into my room. I shook off the bad chills he gave me.

"Who was the weird guy?" Michael asked, watching me shake around.

"The son of my dad's friend," I said, taking the hand sanitizer out of my book bag and pouring a glob of it over my hands, some of it dripping on the floor. "Richard's his name."

"I don't like him," Michael said.

"Neither do I," I answered, reaching into my closet for my robe. "I need to take a shower. He was so...dirty." I shivered before running out of the room.

"You have fun with that," Michael called after me.

I closed the bathroom door, turned on the shower and quickly undressed before jumping in, pouring almost a quarter of the liquid soap onto my washcloth. I scrubbed every body part that came in contact with him. Don't get me wrong, I felt bad for judging him so harshly but did he have to have such bad hygiene? Just as I began washing my hair, I heard a small tap on the counter.

I pulled back the shower curtain and saw Michael with his hand over his eyes.

"What are you doing in here?" I whispered, trying to wrap curtain around my body. I didn't want to freak out my parents by yelling in the shower.

"I thought I'd be a good friend and let you know that what's-his-face is standing by the bathroom door," Michael said, still covering his eyes. "You forgot to lock the door. He looked like he was going to 'pretend' he didn't know you were in here."

"You're kidding me, right?" I squinted at the door knob and noticed Michael was right: I forgot to lock the door. "Can you lock it for me?"

"Sure, I guess," Michael said. He concentrated on his hand for a second, and reached for the lock, snapping it in place.

"Thanks," I said, feeling more relaxed. "You can go now."

"No problemo," he said, fading until he was completely gone.

I smiled to myself and quickly finished my shower. I wanted to ask Michael a few questions and right now seemed like the best time. I quickly threw on a baggy t-shirt and some pants and ran out of the bathroom, only to bump into something hard and fall on top of it.

"Ouch!" We both said at the same time. I looked down and saw that I was on top of Richard...I guess he was standing outside my door the entire time. I scrambled to my feet, feeling the urge to take another shower. "What are you doing in front of the bathroom?"

"I was wondering where my room was," he said, getting onto his feet.

"Oh," I said, looking to the door on the right side of the bathroom. "Your room's right there."

"Thanks," he said, grabbing his stuff off the floor and scurrying into the room, closing the door behind him.

I shook my head and walked into my room, drying my wet hair with a towel. I sat on my bed.

"So, Michael," I said, "I think it's time we talk all about you."

"Me?" He asked, sitting on the floor by my feet. "What's so interesting about me?"

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, throwing the towel on the floor. "What isn't interesting about you? I mean, you're the first ghost or....well, not alive person I've ever talked to!"

"I guess that's true," he said, drawing an invisible infinity sign on the floor over and over again.

I watched him for a few seconds and realized he did that quite often. He always drew infinity signs when he didn't know what to do or what to say. Maybe it's the fact that he can technically live forever, if you can even call it that. He even said so himself, I was the first person he's talked to in years.

"Can I just ask you questions and you can answer them?" I asked, watching his hand retracing the sign.

"Sure, I guess," he said, still not really paying attention. "What do you want to know?"