I sat out on the stairwell another night, hoping the ghost would show her face again. But, as fate would have it, no such luck. That was the down side: the sightings were so sporadic, you never knew when it would happen. You could be lucky enough to be alone in your room, or in the middle of talking to someone. I couldn’t count on my fingers the times my parents had yelled at me for not paying attention when they were talking. It was kind of hard to concentrate when a departed soul was floating around next to you.
At school, the punk-ginger kid did his usual sitting next to me thing. Whatever it was. He continued not to talk to me, so I continued to ignore him. He once pointed at my lemon slice, which put a dent in my ignoring him part of the deal since I had to nod and push my tray towards him. I thought he was going to squeeze it over his salad or something, but nope. He put it in his mouth and started sucking on it like it was dipped in sugar. I couldn’t hide my look of amazement as he stood up to dump his tray. He couldn’t hide his smirk.
What a show off.
I was feeling pretty proud of myself, accomplishing mild social interaction and all, when I overheard a group of guys talking in health class.
“-I think we should invite that new girl.”
“You mean the Catholic one?”
“I don’t know dude, she might whip us with a ruler.”
“You know how gnarly those Catholic girls can get, am I right?”
Their laughter made me want to vomit.
YOU ARE READING
Ghost
Teen FictionIf there’s anything that Natalie Hagen has learned in her fifteen years of existence, it’s that ghosts make better friends than the living ever could. But not all ghosts are as friendly as they seem. [on temporary hold]
