Ghost of You

“I...” I couldn't stop stuttering long enough to think of something good to say, something that wouldn't make me sound guilty.

Mr. Listing was staring at me with his eyes narrowed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Tom, care to explain?”

I sighed, exasperated. “I didn't steal it. I borrowed it.”

“Without permission?” Mr. Listing asked.

I sighed, lowering my head. “Yes,” I muttered.

“And there's a crack in the screen,” Georg hissed from his position on the porch.

“It fell, it was an accident, I swear. When I went upstairs to get changed...” think Tom, think, “...it fell off my bed.”

Georg stared at me, snorting. “It wouldn't have cracked from falling off your bed.”

“How do you know?” I snapped.

“Gee, I dunno, Tom, how would I know my own iPod?” Georg questioned sarcastically.

I turned to Mr. Listing, whose frown hadn't let up a bit. “It really was an accident. I was just afraid to tell Georg.” I bit my lip and knew instantly he didn't believe I was innocent.

“Tom,” Mr. Listing stared at me, eyes still narrowed and arms still crossed, “tell the truth. Now.”

“That is the truth!” I wailed.

I couldn't tell the actual truth. You know, the part where my dead brother tried to use it to stop the voices in his head and he tossed it onto the ground and disappeared. I'm sure that would go smoothly. Not. I snorted at my own thoughts.

“Tom, I don't believe you,” Mr. Listing said, shaking his head. “I want you to apologize to Georg, and then go to your room. Your punishment will be decided on when Anna gets home.”

Punishment?! I huffed and turned to Georg. “I'm sorry,” I muttered.

“I'm sure you can do it more heart-felt than that,” Mr. Listing retorted.

I turned and glared at him, then turned back to Georg and sighed. “I'm sorry, Georg, I really am. I didn't mean to break your iPod.”

“Why didn't you just ask to borrow it?”

“Because I took it last night when I couldn't sleep.”

Georg's eyes narrowed at me. He knew I was fibbing. Please don't rat me out. Please, don't rat me out! I thought in my head.

“Sure, whatever,” Georg said, turning around and heading back inside to the kitchen.

“To your room,” Mr. Listing said, trailing behind me as I went inside the house.

I walked past Sarah who was building with Legos in the sitting room. I gave her a small smile when she looked up at me, before I headed up the stairs, but she ignored it. Great, is everyone mad at me?!



Georg was waiting for me at the to of the staircase, leaning against the banister. His arms were crossed over his chest, his iPod being clutched in his left hand. I went over to him and we stared each other down.

“I dunno what you did, and why you had to lie about it, but consider us not friends.”