If looks could kill, he'd be dead again.
Johnny leaned back in his chair, resting his feet on the desk in front of him. Then again, he supposed that it was his fault that she was in detention, so he deserved the glares that she was giving him. He could like with glares. What he couldn't live with was her avoiding him as she had been for the past three weeks.
Operetta and him had a strange relationship. He wasn't exactly sure where they stood on anything at the moment. Usually, they were fine. She challenged him like no one ever dared, rolled his eyes at him, and fought for what she wanted with a passion. Operetta was one of the only people that Johnny respected in the entire world...which is why he had thought that they could be something more.
Who would have thought that she'd be the one with commitment issues? It was laughable. Johnny was the bad boy who turned heads with his walk and devil-may-care attitude, but she was the one who didn't want to stick around at the end of the day. She was the one who thought that she could kiss him and they could just be friends. She was the one who toyed with his emotions.
It would have been different if they were humans. If they were humans then they could have blamed it on the alcohol. They could have blamed it on the illegal boos that she kept in the catacombs. But they were ghosts-him a spirit, her a phantom-and ghosts couldn't get drunk. Their minds hadn't been fuzzy, and both of their memories were fully intact. They had made out in the catacombs because they had wanted to, not because of the alcohol that they had been drinking.
Damn it! Johnny liked Operetta. He liked her in a way that he had never liked a girl before. Johnny Spirit didn't date girls. It was simply something that wasn't done. Johnny didn't like girls the way that he liked Operetta. He walked around the hallways breaking hearts with a smug smile. He didn't fall in love.
Johnny stopped. No. That wasn't right. This wasn't love. Operetta was cool. She was fun. She was a good kisser. They were...he wasn't quite sure what they were, but he wasn't in love with her.
But if that were true, then why did he have such a problem with Operetta avoiding him? Why did he want to be in a relationship with her so badly? Why did her southern drawl send shivers down his spine? Why did her piano playing make his heart beat faster? Why did her stubborn, anti-conformist ways make him smile?
Johnny stared up at the ceiling above him. He was in so much trouble.
If he weren't already dead, Operetta would've killed Johnny.
Who did he think he was? He couldn't make her late for class. Not when he knew that she couldn't be late without risking detention. Not when he had to know that she had been avoiding him.
Operetta continued to glare daggers into the back of Johnny's head. Who did he think the was that he could toy with her emotions without getting some form of reciprocation? Operetta might not have been the brightest ghoul at school, but she knew Johnny all too well, and she knew how Johnny was with girls.
Johnny didn't date. It was simply something that Johnny didn't do. He never cheated on a girl, but he never stayed with her for more than a week. Operetta had been a bystander for many of his flings. One day he'd be there, the next day he'd be gone.
Operetta wasn't about to let that be her.
Kissing Johnny in the catacombs had been a mistake. It had been a spur of the moment thing. Their music made her heart beat faster, and his fingers on her waist had made her her pulse rush. It seemed like the thing to do.
Operetta would be lying if she said that she weren't attracted to Johnny. She was. Very much. He was the only person at the school who understood her. Her ghoul friends didn't understand that sometimes she needed to be alone with her music. They didn't understand what it felt like to hear a song and feel a connection. They didn't appreciate the classics. But Johnny did.
So kissing him had been a mistake, but it had been a wonderful, awesome, electrifying mistake. It would have been worth it had Johnny not ruined everything by meeting her at the entrance to the catacombs the next day to convince her to try to make things work. Operetta wasn't about to do that. She had seen Johnny try to make things work before. She knew that it wouldn't be too long before someone else caught his eye. Then she'd be collateral damage.
Operetta glanced at the clock on the wall. Not much longer. She'd been avoiding Johnny for the past few weeks. Avoiding the catacombs and the places that they'd used to practice. He'd noticed. He'd confronted her about it in the hallway earlier that day, making them both late for class, and landing her a spot in detention.
It was almost funny when she thought about it. Operetta would have liked nothing more than to go out with Johnny Spirit, but she knew better. She knew that he was only interested in her because she was new and different. As soon as that wore off he'd move on to the next ghoul, and Operetta's heart would be broken. She refused to let that happen.
Operetta refused to be collateral damage.