Chapter 5

"Hey, Sam. Need a hand on those?" Gregor appeared beside Sam's desk and motioned to the stack of books in front of her. Sam almost jumped from her seat. Her eyes drinking up the sight of Gregor and the smile he was offering her. She almost sighed. Her hyperactive imagination began picturing Gregor as her boyfriend; walking her to school in the morning, their hands intertwined, carrying her books for her after each class, waiting for her at the cafeteria to eat lunch together, and of course, sending her home every afternoon; the golden, orange rays of the sun shining on her hair and Gregor gazing at her lovingly as he admits that she's the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.

Gregor chuckled, that melodic laughter ringing in Sam's ears. Sam blinked when she realized she was the cause of it. He stopped chuckling to give her another heart-skipping smile. His green eyes looked thoroughly amused. "See something you like?"

Sam was taken aback for the second. Was it just her or Gregor sounded almost smug? She dismissed this thought as she racked her brain for a witty comeback but she didn't come up with any that would not get her sued. Gregor, still grinning, was absentmindedly drawing circles on the edge of her plastic desk. Sam glanced at it and wondered how those long fingers would feel on her skin. "I'm just kidding, Sam." Gregor stopped moving his fingers and dropped his smile. His eyes looked at her in concern. "Seriously, Sam, What's up with you today? You seem off than usual. Is something bothering you?"

Sam was tempted to say, yes, actually, it's your face, but she decided against it because he would probably take it as one of her sarcastic replies and would either be offended that he would never come near her again or be humored as if just by looking at her was very funny for him. "I'm fine." And she immediately broke out into a smile. Then immediately wondered if there was anything stuck in between her teeth. Yes, she was overly conscious when Gregor was around. She couldn't help it. He was so perfect in her eyes that she always have the disturbing feeling of trying to be worthy of him.

Gregor scrunched his bushy brows, planted both hands on the sides of her desk, careful not to knock the stack of books, and leaned down, scrutinizing her face dead on. His pinkish, thin lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes stared straight at hers, digging through the amethyst depths. Sam felt a shiver ran down her spine. She didn't feel warm, she surprisingly felt cold, like a bucket of ice water was poured on her back. "Hmmm, you don't look like you're fine." Gregor continued to lock his gaze on her.

Really, what could Gregor find so interesting on her face? He was making her very uncomfortable. Sam glanced around to break the intimate staring. She couldn't continue looking at his eyes. She was afraid that he would find answers and learn her secret just by gazing at her. Her eyes caught movement on her right, just behind Gregor and she saw that Star, the blonde cheerleader, who was Paulina's sidekick, was watching and glaring daggers at her. Sam wondered where Paulina could be, she half wished Paulina would suddenly appear and take Gregor away.

Sam turned her eyes back on Gregor, who was still studying her face like it was a book he was trying to memorize. Sam thought of something to say, anything actually, just to get him out of her face. "Um…" Oh God, very brilliant, Sam. Her mind chided.

Gregor chewed the inside of his cheek, cleared his throat and declared. "Sam, I believe you need a twelve-hour sleep. I recommend not plugging your computer tonight or avoiding that favorite book of yours when you get home." And he thankfully straightened. Sam almost sighed in relief.

"Is that your synopsis, Dr. Gregor?" Paulina purred, heavy with her Latina accent as she wrapped a slender hand on Gregor's arm and ground shamelessly her body against his.

Sam thought of her wish earlier and wanted to take it back. She would have blushed about avoiding her favorite book Gregor mentioned. She felt special that he knew she loved to read, however, thanks to Paulina she probably now sounded more of the book freak than they thought she was.

Someone chuckled on Sam's right and she briefly forgot about her mental complaints as she turned to look. Gregor and Paulina did the same as they all threw a questioning glance to whoever it was. She was startled to see the new guy standing behind his chair. Apparently he heard (if he wasn't intentionally listening) their conversation. He swung the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. "You mean diagnosis." He corrected and glanced at the three of them with amused eyes. His gaze briefly swept over Paulina (with Sam presumed as disgust), then to Gregor where Sam saw a flash of something, like an alternation of his eyes from blue to green, then to Sam. His eyes rested on hers for a while longer.

He then gave her a hint of a smile and trudged out of the room. Sam was rendered speechless. Did he just do what she thought he just did? Sam watched as Paulina looked at the new guy's back with regret instead of hate or disgust as Sam predicted. Paulina must have sensed that Sam was staring at her because she shifted her weight and scoffed at Sam's direction. She narrowed her eyes at Sam and dragged Gregor toward the door.

"Greggg…" She whined, "Let's go, I'm hungry!" Paulina sighed and pouted. Sam had to restrain herself from gagging right then and there. She never figured why girls tend to pucker their lips like ducks when they wanted something from guys. Gregor, a victim on the said guys department, didn't even struggle as he let Paulina hauled him out. Sam caught a glimpse of Gregor's face looking utterly distracted. She didn't know why but something nagged at her that the look on his face must meant something important. But on second thought, Gregor might have just been making a constipated face because of Paulina's persistence.

Sam didn't know if she should feel disappointed that Gregor forgot about her or mad that Paulina took him away or happy because the new guy just cracked Paulina's overconfident skyscraper of an ego.

Either way, she should be glad that someone in this school didn't think Paulina was a gift to men. It was enough to lighten up her mood.

Sam glanced back at her desk and sighed. No, actually, it wasn't enough to lift her spirits up. The stack of books was still sitting on her desk and Gregor wasn't around anymore to help her, not that she relied on him but boy, he did offer and she should've took him up on it.

By the time lunch period ended, Sam's head was pounding. It felt like someone was drilling a hole in her temples and she was nauseous. She didn't get the chance to eat lunch or even go to the cafeteria because she used her break to slip in the publication room and finish the chapter she was working on last night.

When she was done printing the copy of today's chapter, she snuck out of the publication room and made sure no one noticed her. She was planning to go straight to her next class when she felt her stomach flipped. She ran to the nearest wash room, dove to the farthest cubicle, slammed the door shut and retched. Her stomach heaved for another two minutes before she finally felt the head ache receded to a dull throb. She went out of the cubicle, thank goodness the bathroom was empty, and then rinsed her mouth and face. She tried to catch her breath as she leaned on the sink for support, wincing at her reflection.

Ugh, Gregor stared at this … this face? Her hair was matted; it looked like it was never introduced to a comb. Her eyes were blood shot, with large, dark circles underneath them. Her face oily and her lips chapped; despite the purple lipstick she applied this morning. She was also frighteningly pale, almost as pale as the creature she saw in this school.

Sam froze. What if that thing stays in the school? What if there were others? Floating, nearly transparent beings in the classrooms, the hallways, or worse, in the bathroom? Sam felt her hand shook but she blamed it to her starvation and lack of sleep. Seriously, she was only writing for the newspaper not taking on the job of her life, why was she doing this to herself? If she couldn't get at least a five hour sleep, she should at least eat more or those stories would be similar to that book where it ended in the middle of a sentence because the character died. Just like her life would be if she didn't stop this suicide routine.

Sam sighed, lack of food and sleep were already messing with her mind. She was being melodramatic about this and she was developing paranoia about ghosts. She grabbed her bag from the counter and rummaged through it, grasping around for her purple lipstick. She could go without caking her face in foundation but never without her favorite, signature purple lipstick. Her hands dug in her bag, sifting through her laptop, pens, crumpled papers, binder, journal, an umbrella, a tumbler, she reached deeper and finally got a grip on the tiny, metallic tube. She pulled it out, uncapped and twisted it, and was about to swipe it on her lips when her hand stiffened and her eyes bulged.

The door of the middle cubicle swung open and out came a tumbling person. Literally. Sam watched as the knot of black limbs and arms rolled to the side and flattened itself on the floor, panting. The person lied on his stomach and that was when Sam realized the black was actually his form of clothing, stuck to his body like second skin. Sam swiveled her head from the mirror to check behind her, just to make sure this was real. It was.

The guy, she could tell from his built and his hair (his hair that was snowy white and his black suit that she now labeled as spandex), was getting up. He pushed himself off the ground and raised his head to look around his surroundings. The first thing he saw was Sam. Their eyes met and Sam fought hard not to react. She was a Goth, for Pete's sake! She didn't do screaming and running for her life.

However, her breath was caught in her throat because as soon as she saw his eyes, which was a pair of glowing green, she knew that this was beyond her. The guy froze as well; he was taken aback by her presence. He was probably not expecting someone in this room at this hour. They held each other's gazes for another ten seconds. The guy looked like he was racking his brain for something to say while Sam deliberated how to escape. The guy seemed to finally gather his thoughts. He stood fully, reminding her of someone's height. He dusted off himself and offered his right hand at her. Sam noted he was wearing white gloves, further observation concluded that he was indeed wearing a black spandex suit, with white belt and boots. He was mostly black and white except for the eyes.

"Hi?" He spoke uncertainly and Sam noted the deep timbre of his voice, which she also found familiar. He took a small step toward her and Sam automatically took a step back. The guy swiftly moved backward, so graceful his limb was a blur and when Sam checked, he was a few feet farther than her. "I-I'm Da- I mean, Phantom. Phantom" He corrected himself and looked at her sheepishly; his hand was still out in front of him.

Sam had no idea what to make of this situation. He, as far as she knew, rolled out of that cubicle and was now offering his hand as if they just met in a ball or something. For all she knew, he was there the whole time and was spying on her as she what? Puke her breakfast out?

Sam clutched her lipstick in her fist as she fumbled for something to say. It looked like there was no other way but to introduce herself too because he already did. Although asking him what the heck he was doing in a cubicle in the girls' wash room seemed more important, Sam opted to follow his lead and start with their names. "Uh, I'm Sam."

"I know."

"You do?"

The guy, who said he was Phantom, widened his eyes as if he just made a mistake. He panicked and took three strides and before Sam could blink, he was right in front of her, shaking her hand that was clutching the lipstick and nodding, "I mean, pleased to meet you." His other gloved hand rose to scratch the back of his neck. Sam shivered; small tendrils of electric currents ran through her hand.

His proximity, especially his hand, brought a spark and coldness that she never experienced before. Even in September, the heat was still sweltering but it faded when he came near, as if he brought winter just by being within a few feet from Sam.

He let go of her hand as soon as took notice of her shivering form. He stepped back and apologized. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to make you freeze. The cold shouldn't have bothered you with this heat but –" He caught himself rambling, stopped and smiled awkwardly. Sam would have thought it was adorable if not for the fact that he just mentioned…

"Did you say—what? How?"

Phantom guy seemed to catch on to what she was referring to even though she barely got out a sensible word. "Uhm, you know, me being cold because of, er, what I am."

Sam frowned and her eyes narrowed. "And you're?"

"A ghost?" Phantom asked like he wasn't sure himself.

"A ghost?" Sam repeated, feeling ridiculous.

He sighed. "Yeah, you know, dead." He drew a line across his throat like he was trying to communicate with a language barrier. He waited for Sam's reaction. He didn't get any.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You should be scared right now. Terrified, even." His face was still a picture of hope; hope that Sam was terrified to her wits.

"Really?" Sam asked again and she felt utterly stupid. The guy was admitting he was a ghost and was dead but she was still verifying this information even though she could perfectly see the signs for herself: the speed, the blur, the outfit (okay, the outfit would seem out of place even if he was alive), the snowy white hair, honestly who could have hair like that? Well, aside from Gregor but, never mind… It looked impeccable and went really well with his eyes, his glowing green eyes. Oh God, was she actually finding this supposed to be ghost guy attractive?

"Yeah." The Phantom guy was watching her with worry evident on his face. "Like screaming at the top of your lungs and running for the hills terrified." He tilted his head to the side and tried to figure her out.

"No kidding." Sam replied. As soon as the words were out she wanted to slap herself with a chair, how could she be like this?

Phantom sighed. He probably thought she was nuts or just mentally challenged. He decided to change the topic instead. "Don't you have class?"

"Oh, shit." Sam zipped her bag shut and slung it on her shoulder. She was about to run but in order for her to get out, she would have to passed by him. He didn't miss a beat and simply turned his body sideways to give her enough room to pass. Sam took one last glance at him and dashed out of the bath room.

"What would you do if you encounter a ghost?"

Sam was met by a brief silence from the other end of the line. It was past ten in the evening and she and Tucker were doing their respective works from their own rooms and talking on the phone. The silence stretched and Sam knew Tucker stopped typing long enough to make her worry. "Tucker?"Sam retrieved the phone from between her ear and shoulder and glanced at it, just to make sure the line wasn't dead. It wasn't and she put it back on her ear as she heard him spoke.

"That's a tough one. Where and why would I encounter this ghost?" Tucker inquired and Sam hesitated. Should she tell him the truth or fabricate a situation? She decided to go for the truth. This was Tucker, anyway.

"Bathroom. Like at the school's bathroom. After you just threw up and was attempting to fix yourself and you thought you were alone, suddenly there's this guy or in your case, a girl rolling out of one of the cubicles and introducing him—I mean herself to you and saying she's uh, a ghost?"

She was met by another round of silence. She was beginning to think Tucker was trying to hide his laughter or doing something she didn't want to know. Tucker chuckled. "Cool. Not only your princess is a runaway in the forest, she meets a ghost in the bathroom too? It's a little far-fetched, don't you think?"

Sam kept silent, what princess? And then it hit her. Tucker was treating it as a scene brainstorm. He thought she was having a crazy idea attack and this was all part of her being the anonymous story writer. He thought that she was asking him for his opinion. Sam didn't know if she should feel relieved or worried about this. "Come on, just give me an answer." She prodded, hoping that he'd stop asking questions.

"I have no idea. Maybe make a fit out of it? Scream at the top your lungs and run for the hills thing?"

Oh, God, no. Sam would have passed out if she wasn't already in bed. Was that really the first thing people would do if they see a ghost? Apparently, yes. Even the ghost himself suggested it. She couldn't help but ask, "That's all?"

"Well, yeah. What would you do?"

Sam paused. Did Tucker really want to know? Perhaps he did because he sounded like there was no other way around it. Sam took a breath and decided to risk it. "Uh, shake his hand?"

Tucker took another pause before he breaking into a laughing fit. Sam's face reddened. It was a good thing they were talking on the phone for she was sure Tucker would figure everything out and would see her blushing madly.

"Seriously, -" He panted, "Sam-" He breathed and started to laugh again. "Hahaha! S-Sam, sorry but, hahaha! You-you're going to shake the hand of a," Tucker tried his best to stop laughing and managed to cough instead. "Ghost?"

Sam gritted her teeth. She felt stupid enough to ask him about this and she felt more ridiculous with him laughing right out at her. "Thank you very much for laughing. Glad I could be your personal clown in times of dire need."

Tucker cleared his throat again. "Sorry, Sam. I didn'—"

Sam hung up. That went great. Now how was she supposed to start telling Tucker about the things she was encountering lately? Not to mention the dreams? When she came home from school this afternoon she fell asleep on the couch and that stupid dream with the naked guy on the gurney haunted her again. She woke up with a heart that felt like it was going to burst and was covered with sweat. To shake off the remnants of the dream and the weird things she thought were coming to her, Sam jumped to the shower and stayed there for half an hour. She was half worried that taking a nap again would bring back the dream.

Sam sighed and wiped at her tired eyes. She felt good after she had dinner but she was so not repeating the skipping-lunch and running into a ghost episode. Her throbbing headache had vanished with the remedy of food, nap and shower but it was starting to come back with a vengeance. It must be her consistent use of the computer. Sam let out another sigh and saved her work. She grabbed her bag pack from the bedside table and stuck her hand inside. She groped through her stuff, searching around for her favorite, tiny tube of a lipstick. It was a crazy habit but it kind of helped. Applying her lipstick whenever she was upset made her feel a bit better. If only she could find that lipstick and—

Sam stopped and decided to take the shortcut. She pulled out her hand and clutched the bottom of her bag. With a jerk, she turned the bag upside down and let the contents piled up on her bed. Sam then began filtering through her stuff. She set aside the black binder for her school notes, the purple and black moleskin journal, the variety of pens and her purple sharpie, her purple umbrella, her amethyst, semi-transparent tumbler and the crumpled papers. Sam's brows nearly collided with each other when she realized that it was missing.

Her hand brushed again with the items but it wasn't there. Sam yanked on her bag and dug through its secret pockets. Nope, not there either. After a few more minutes of worthless searching she finally accepted the fact.

Her favorite purple lipstick was missing. And the last time she remembered having it was when she met the Phantom ghost guy.

Oh, crap. Ghosts were not just bathroom dwelling beings. They were also lipstick-thieves.

A/n: Thanks for reading! And another round of thanks goes to IceQueenandFireQueen, Thedarkgirl1121, and Lightning Streak for the reviews.

Comments, suggestions, or violent reactions? Feel free to review.

~T.E