Andy

The schoolbus rolls up in front of my house a few minutes after I finish getting ready. I quickly get my backpack and say goodbye to my Mom, and I’m off. I haven’t seen Andy all morning, and quite frankly, I don’t know if I’m ready to face him after our worst argument yet. I don’t know what to say to him, or how to approach him. He feels distant and unobtainable, a farcry from the man I met a few weeks ago.

Before, he felt hugable, loveable and unobtainable, but now, shit, he’s pulled in so many directions sometimes I have a hard time figuring out where he’s at in his own head.

I don’t know what made me decide to take the bus over walking. Maybe I was just unconsciously in the mood for a good round of bullying that would surely come from riding the bus.

I step aboard as the door creaks open, and the tired, annoyed bus driver looks down boredly at me. I give him a pleasant smile anyways, and climb aboard, finding most of the seats empty, I opt for one close to the door for a quick escape.

There’s a few other familiar faces on board, but luckily none of them bother looking up.

A chilling mist is stuck to the windows of the bus, and instead of offering that calm feeling overcast days normally did, I just feel this numb buzz of anxiety remembering what happened last time it rained.

The whole ride is quiet and uneventful. I spend the time by fiddling with a loose string on the hem of my skirt, feeling the anxiety in my chest. It’s a familiar feeling that existed long before all this ghosty nonsense did. Arriving at achool will always be a stressful moment for me, because people glance at you and judge you and then they talk about every wrongdoing in your life when they’re ones to talk.



I get off the bus quickly and swiftly, sighing in relief that I didn’t trip and manage to make a greater fool of myself.

Elizabeth quickly approaches me from the right, ninja style, but I was already aware of her incoming attack. When you live with ghosts for three weeks, you get really used to watching your back and being used to people appearing out of thin air.

“Hey, you!” She grins at me and I realize she’s not alone - there’s a familiar face following her, and for once it’s someone I’m greatful to see.

“Hey Eliza, hey Mark.”

He looks up from his phone and studies me like he doesn’t recognize me for several seconds before replying “Hey, Ash. You’re back in school.”

His voice lacks the cheerful, easygoing vibe it did in previous weeks when we had first met. I nod slowly in response, searching my brain for something useful to respond with.

“I hadn’t seen you yet, where’ve you been?”

“Around,” he shrugs, his eyes dodging mine everytime I try to lock eyes with him. “I was out of town during the flood visiting some friends in Minnesota. Kinda glad I missed it.”

“Me, too. We missed the first three days of the flood, came back just in time to witness the apocalypse.”

He lets out a nervous laugh that makes me suspicious. I turn halfways towards Elizabeth and see her looking down, kicking at stray rocks in the asphalt with the toe of her scuffed up converse.

“...Eliza?”

She peeks up at me, and as I expected, there’s a sheepish look on her face.

“Elizabeth.” I sigh, “tell me you didn’t do it.” My voice is low and deadened. She winces a little and finally looks up at me before exploding into a mess of disarray and excitement. “What was I supposed to do?! You left my house leaving me a confused, wondering wreck - I had to vent to someone!”

My eyes widen “Who else did you tell?”

“No one else.”

“Eliza!”

“Just Mark, I swear!”

There’s sincerity in her eyes and it softens my gaze a little. I lower my voice out of hearing range of the passing students, because now some of them are turning and looking, expecting another fight to break out. I’m sure they’ve already started placing their bets.

“How much did you tell him?” I peer over at him through a curtain of my fallen hair, trying to gauge from the troubled expression he wears as he looks down at his phone just how much he knows.

“Just a few things, nothing major.”

“Just enough for him to think I’m crazy!” I hiss, “Elizabeth, you promised! You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone!” I groan, throwing my head back and then into my hands in frustration.

“I know - it’s not much, okay? I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry I told you anything.” I snap. “Please don’t let me be right by thinking you’re a bad friend. Elizabeth, you cannot tell anyone else. Do you understand.”

She nods quickly, her wire straight strands of bleached blonde hair waving around her angelic face in the movement.

“You said you understood last night!” I hiss under my breath with frustration in my tone.

“Mark won’t tell anyone, he’s good for it. Aren’t you?” She raises her voice enough to get his attention. He looks up at the both of us, shrugging in confusion.

“See? It’s fine.”

“Uh uh, no. A shrug might be proof enough for you, but it’s not enough for me. Shrugging is the universal term for ‘I don’t know’, and I don’t know is the universal term for ‘I haven’t decided what to do with this wonderful new information yet.”

“Mark - are you going to tell anyone else?”

“About what? The weird ghost stuff?”

I glare over at Eliza a little, but nod in confirmation.

“Hell no, if I go around telling people something like that, I’ll be labeled crazy like the both of you and I’ll pass on that. Besides, my friend group is far too small to do much damage in a school of this size.”

“So you won’t?” I demand, glaring daggers into him.

“No, your secrets are safe with me... But I do have some questions.”

“Of course you do.” I groan, “Of course everyone does... Tell you two what... Let me speak with my ‘ghost friends’, and I’ll see how they feel about doing a reveal.”

They purse their lips in surprise and exchange glances with one another, and then look at me. “Really? You could do that?” Eliza asks, the excitement in her tone unbearable.

“Maybe,” I shrug, “Right now, I’m not on very good terms with them.”

“Very good terms with who, freak?”

Reece slides up from behind me and smugly places himself beside Elizabeth, slinging his arm over her shoulders in a tight, territorial grip. Eliza readjusts herself in the awkward embrace similar to that of one a drunk man might give at a party he knows no one at.

I bite my tongue to keep some cocky, sarcastic remark from showing it’s ugly face.

“Reece...” Eliza groans in protest.

“Shut it.” His eyes are on me, still intent, wide, and wating for an answer. That goofy, overy cheerful smile remains despite his rude snap towards her.

“You don’t speak for her.” Mark narrows his eyes at him. He stands a little taller than Reece, and certainly has the physique to take him on in a mud roll fight in the school parking lot.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Reece directs his light hearted manner towards him instead, easily maintaining the easy going, calm manner riddled with rude quips to ruffle everyone’s feathers.

“Her cousin.” Mark replies, narrowing his eyes further, stepping closer until they’re almost chest to chest in each other’s faces. Reece’s nostrils flared.

“I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?” Mark gives him a cheerful smile and suddenly, all the calmness drains from Reece’s face like water tricking from rocks. Swiftly and quickly, his cheerful mood seeps away like a raincloud is overing over his parade.

“Her man.” He responds childishly, like this is some 70’s dance off battle or something.

“Really?” Mark cocks his head, eyes sparkling in wonder, his smile widening. “Cuz’ I don’t think she’s ever mentioned your dumb ass.”

“Huh... Weird. I know she’s mentioned you.” Reece nods in recognition, pointing a finger at him halfheartedly, “she mentioned what a little bitch you are.”

“Alright, alright.” I place myself between the two intimidation figures, pushing them apart. “As much as I’m rooting for Mark to pummel your ass into the concrete, I also don’t want to see him expelled because you have to be a fuckin’ dickstick. Back it up.”

Reece’s hazel eyes intently drift from his previous target back at me, and they settle on my face with the coldest gaze I’ve ever seen.

“I’d watch myself if I were you, girl.”

“Watch yourself.” I growl, the andrenaline in my blood making my limbs feel limp and weak. My lip almost quivers and makes me look as terrified as I feel. I grit my teeth to prevent it from happening.

The second bell rings, a buzzing alert telling you you’re two minutes from a weekend detention.

“Come on, Eliza, we’ve got class.”

I pry Reece’s iron grip from her shoulders and tug Mark’s arm, and we put him behind us and head to class. I peek over at Eliza and she looks restless. Before I can ask her what is wrong, she deviates from out group, and heads into the math classroom. I shrug it off, and me and Mark walk towards our first class.

“That was pretty cool.” I laugh nervously, my voice shaking from the excitement and the weak ending of my andrenaline rush. “No one ever stands up to Reece.”

“Ha, thanks. You did good, too. Maybe you’re not just the weird ghost girl.”

I laugh, “Maybe not. Hey, I’ll catch you at lunch!” I call to him, pulling away from our duo to head into history.

“You’ve got it!”



My mind was too busy spinning with the previous events to focus. The whole fight was real, and it was human. This time there was no paranormal intrusions or clones to worry about. Just some good ol’ real life issues to keep you up at night.

Andy didn’t show up to sit on my desk and prank the other students, and Ashley wasn’t there to glare at me and shoot me with taunting comments designed to make me self distruct.

The seperation has been oddly nice and oddly needed, but I still catch myself searching for his shadow, waiting for the flutter of papers on my desk to announce his presence.

I’m still waiting for him to show up.