John stood slack-jawed in the kitchen doorway, staring at the no-longer-dead woman. He wanted to say something, but his mouth couldn't seem to remember how to make words go. After what felt like an eternity but was probably more like a second, the woman shrugged and turned around to flip the eggs she was frying.

"You know," she said, "It's not polite to stare."

"I. You. You're supposed to be dead." John could hear his voice coming out raspy and wavering, and he wasn't sure if it was from shock, lack of use, or both. It had been a while since he'd spoken to anyone, but also, what the fuck?

"No. I don't think so." She paused, then added, "and that's kind of a rude thing to say."

"No, no you were dead last night. I checked your pulse and did cpr and everything. You were so dead your skin was all freaky and gray." John took a step into the kitchen as he spoke, but stopped in his tracks again as the formerly dead woman gave the eggs one final flip and spun around to face him with the sizzling pan in hand.

"Thank you for that, but I am very much alive, and I intend to stay that way. Where do you keep your plates?"

John blinked, taking a minute to process what she'd just said to him. "They're, uh, in the cabinet over there." He pointed at a set of cupboards across the room.

"Thanks!" She set down the pan on the non-heated burner and went to go get a plate. "Should I be getting one of these or two?"

"I-what?"

"Breakfast. Do you want any? I made too much for just me."

"Sure?"

"Great!" She pulled down two plates and set them on the counter, then retrieved the pan and plated the eggs and bacon in a motion far more graceful and effortless-looking than it had any right to be.

John crossed the room and sat down at the small kitchen table. He felt completely numb. The dead woman picked up the plates of food and set them down at the table, then lifted a hand to wave.

"Hi. I'm Aradia." She'd been smiling throughout their interaction, but she broke out into a wide grin as she spoke. She looked too happy.

"I'm… John?"

Seemingly satisfied, the no-longer-dead woman (Aradia, he reminded himself), plopped down into a chair across from him and sat watching him. An awkward silence hung for a moment, then Aradia piped up to break it. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"Aren't you?"

"I've never made fried eggs before, only scrambled. I want to see your reaction before I try them."

"Oh." A part of John's brain was screaming that eating the food when she hadn't was an almost certain fatality. She was a random stranger who had somehow resurrected herself overnight. There was no telling what she could've done to the eggs and bacon before he walked in. What if she was some sort of immortal demonic serial killer? On the other hand, though, he knew his dad would want him to be polite, and she had taken the time to make breakfast for him. He cut into an egg and took a bite.

"How is it?"

"Uh, good?" John didn't want to be rude, but he wasn't sure what to say. The eggs didn't taste like poison, but they were a little bit overdone. If anything, they were just… fine.

"You can be honest. Like I said, I've never made eggs this way before."

"Well uh, they could be a little less done. I think they're supposed to be runny in the middle still? That's how my dad always made them, at least."

"Oh, okay. Thanks." Aradia nodded and looked down to poke at the yoke of one of the eggs on her own plate. The fork came out clean, the mark of dryness. Aradia dropped her smile for just a moment, then shrugged and started eating. John moved to do the same, but caught himself before he could.

"Wait wait hold on; why are we sitting here eating eggs? You still haven't told me how the heck you came back to life. You were dead last night."

Araia looked up at him, her expression shifting to something that looked… proud? That seemed wrong, but John didn't know what else to call it. "It's simple," she said. "I made a deal."

"A deal with who?"

Aradia sighed. "Based on how you've been acting so far today, I don't think you'd believe me if I told you. I was dead, not I'm not. Does it have to be more complicated than that?" She paused for a moment, then added, "I should thank you again though. I would've been screwed if I woke up still in the ocean, so you saved my life." She leaned forward over her plate, coming close enough over the small table for John to see the red undertones of her eyes. "Thank you, really. Tell me how I can make it up to you."

"Uh-I, you're welcome." Her proximity was beginning to remind him of his dream from the night before, and part of him was afraid that she was going to try and kiss his hand. Instead, she broke out into another wide grin and slid back down into her seat.

"You don't talk to people much, do you?"

"What?" Bits of egg flew from his mouth as he spoke, and John cringed harder than he had in a long time.

"Sorry, that came out ruder than I meant it to. I never know how things sound before I say them. It just seems like everything I do surprises you."

"Oh." John looked down at his plate of food, not used to the amount of eye contact that Aradia was sending his way. Or any eye contact, for that matter. "I mean, you're not wrong I guess. I live here alone, so there's not much talking to do."

"Sounds lonely."

"No." John cut in before she'd even closed her mouth. "I like it here alone."

Aradia raised an eyebrow.

"Hey wait that's a good point actually. I live here alone, but you're cooking eggs in my kitchen." John was hit with a wave of righteous(ish) anger. He did not want to deal with this. He shouldn't have to deal with it. He didn't even like being around normal people (At least he assumed he didn't. He'd never tried it.), let alone freaky dead girls that smiled too much.

"Aren't I a special case? You did fish my body out of the ocean last night. You brought me here yourself."

John shot Aradia the harshest glare he could muster, then slumped down to hold his face in his hands. He knew she was right, but he didn't like it. He'd brought this situation upon himself, and now he had to deal with it. Out of desperation, he pinched his arm as hard as he could. Nothing. He should have known that would happen; the texture of Aradia's mediocre attempt at fried eggs was way too real to be part of a dream. At least, he thought, the bacon was pretty good.

"So do you have somewhere you can go?"

The angle of Aradia's smile dropped by several degrees. "Not really. Getting away from home is most of the reason I'm here to begin with."

"Oh."

"And anyway, I can't just leave. You saved me. I have to make it up to you, and you still haven't told me how."

"You don't have to do that."

"But, I want to." She looked earnest when she said that-very much like a normal human person and not a manic zombie. It was almost endearing. Almost.

"Why?" He wasn't sure he wanted whatever payback a freaky pseudo corpse might have for him, even if his dad had always insisted to him that a real man always repaid favors. Aradia did not look phased.

"I'm real interested in karma and causality. Like, things happen for a reason, what goes around comes around, that kind of idea. You helped me, so I want to help you. Otherwise, why am I here?"

"Fine, but you can't just stay here forever out of the blue. You're sure that there's nobody you could call and ask to stay with?" John under no circumstances wanted her lingering for any amount of time longer than what was necessary, let alone long enough to fulfill whatever "purpose" she thought she had with him.

Aradia sighed. "I guess I could call my sister."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah. I haven't interacted with her at all since she moved out a ways back, but she left me her phone number. I guess I should call her now that I'm not at home anymore."

"How long ago did she move?"

Aradia opened her mouth like she was about to speak, then closed it again and looked down at her dish. "Where should I put my plate?"

"What?"

She gestured to her empty plate. "I'm done eating. Where do you put your dirty dishes?"

"Oh. I just wash them as soon as I'm done eating usually."

"Ooh." Aradia's smile broadened again. "Responsible. I like that." She got up from the table and crossed to the sink. As she moved, John noticed for the first time just how ruined her clothes were. Her shirt was stained with dried salt residue and torn open along one side, and the bottom of her long skirt was shredded to bits. Once again, he was struck by just how bizarre his situation was. He'd just had breakfast with a former corpse.

"Anyway, she moved years ago."

"Huh?" The sound of Aradia's voice snapped John out of his trance.

"My sister. She moved out years ago. I was just about to start high school, so that would be four I guess."

"And you haven't talked to her for all that time?" John thought the idea of going that long without talking to family was quite possibly the most bizarre thing she'd said so far.

"No. She would've killed me."

"Why?"

"My sister is-" Aradia stopped for a moment and looked around. "Hey where's your soap?"

"In the cabinet under the sink."

"Thanks." She bent down to look for his dish soap, and John was struck by the thought that he was being a massive ass. Like it or not, he was a host.

"Hey, uh, you can just put that in the sink and I'll wash it."

"Oh, you're sure?"

"Yeah. Sorry I'm being a crappy host. I'm kind of in shock from all this still."

"What?" Aradia turned around to flash John a mischievous look. "You mean you've never had breakfast with a dead person before?"

John smiled a little despite himself. It'd been a long time since someone had told him a joke; he supposed he'd just lost his comedy tolerance from lack of exposure. "No, I can't say that I have," he responded.

"Well, I hope you're having fun." Aradia sat back down at the table while John shoveled the last couple bites of food into his mouth. She still wore a broad smile as she watched him, and John was beginning to suspect that manic happiness was her default state. She seemed nice enough, but it was a little creepy. He could still picture how that same smile had looked when she was dead. Not wanting to linger on her face, he got up to wash the dishes.

"You were talking about your sister?"

"Oh right, yeah. Her name is Damara, and she's kinda crazy. Like, she's pretty cool, but she hates my mom and stepdad even more than I do. She's super paranoid about them tracking her down, so she's blacklisted the entire midwest right out of her life."

"Blacklisted the entire midwest?"

"Yeah. My mom and her asshole husband live in Nebraska, so she avoids that whole part of the country. She got a new number before she left and told me I wasn't allowed to contact her at all until I wasn't living with them anymore and had a new phone. She thought they were monitoring my calls or something.

"Jeez."

"Well in her defense, they probably were."

"Oh."

"Controlling, right?" She didn't look upset about that fact, and John was pretty sure that was worse than if she had been.

"Yeah." John looked down at the dishes in the sink and realized that one thing was missing. "Hey," he called, "could you throw me that fork?"

"Sure." Aradia picked up John's forgotten fork and tossed it toward him. It looked like she didn't aim at all, though, and it flew way off to the side of the room only to swerve back through the air and land neatly in the sink. Its flight path had defied all laws of physics, and John's eyes widened in confusion. Aradia, as always, met his stare with a smile.

"Hey, uh, what?"

"What, you've never seen somebody throw a fork before?" She was smiling so wide that it looked like her grin was about to get up and jump off her face to do a shitty little smug dance.

"Okay no that was not normal. That is not how physics work."

"It is when I'm here."

John raised an eyebrow, and Aradia jumped back in before he could reply. "Here, throw it back over and I'll show you."

Not sure what else to do, he picked up the fork and threw it to the table. Aradia stared at it as he did, and the fork took a hard curve down and hit the ground far sooner than it should have.

"What the fuck?" John stared slack-jawed at Aradia for the second time that morning. "Are you doing that?"

"Yep."

"How."

Aradia wiggled her fingers like a little kid pretending to do magic. "I've got powers John. Spooky powers."

John bit his lip and racked his brain to try and work out what the hell was going on. Try as he might, he was coming up with no explanation as to what the fuck she could be doing to fake the effect. Then again, he thought, he was already having breakfast with a dead girl. Why shouldn't she be telekinetic? He sighed, resigning himself to the nonsensical shitshow his quiet life had become.

"You want to spooky power that fork back over to me?"

"No can do. I'm a terrible psychic." She stood up and grabbed the fork from its spot on the floor, carrying it over to the sink. "I can only influence small things that're already moving." She stepped up close to John in order to drop the fork into the sink, and though he knew she wasn't close enough to justify him being uncomfortable, he was. It had been over a year since another living person had been that close, and the sight of her standing just inches away was utterly alien.

"So, uh." John struggled to keep his voice casual as he spoke. "You need to call your sister."

"I guess, yeah."

John gestured to the living room door. "There's a phone in there."

Aradia sighed as she pushed away from the counter and followed his direction. There was a moment of sweet, familiar silence after she crossed the threshold, and then she piped up from the other room.

"You have a landline?"

"Uh, yeah? Cell signal is almost nonexistent out here. It's not worth paying for."

Aradia peeked her head back around the doorway. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. Just make your call."

She disappeared again as John finished the dishes, and John returned to breathing in the moment of solitude. He very much did not want Aradia hanging around, but from the looks of things, he had no other option. He just hoped her sister would be quick about coming to get her. From a remote lighthouse. With no prior notice.

To distract himself from that thought, he went to go look through the living room door and check on Aradia. True to her word, she was sitting on his small couch, receiver to her ear. After a long break of just the faint sound of ringing, she started talking.

"Hey Damara, it's Aradia. You know, that sister you dumped in Nebraska with mom and captain christian? I finally got out of there and I wanted to find out where you are. I'm in… hold on." Aradia covered the phone with her hand and whispered to John "Where are we?"

"We're in Washington. On the coast."

"Okay." She put the phone back to her ear. "Sorry about that. I'm staying with a friend out by the ocean in Washington right now. I know that's out of nowhere, but I'll explain later. I think I might be overstaying my welcome here soon, so I was hoping I might be able to, like, meet up with you or something." Aradia's easy smile wavered for a moment as she lowered her tone just a bit. "I miss you sis. It's been too long. I'll be here, so just call me back at this number when you get this. It's not my cell, don't worry. My friend has, get this, a landline."

Aradia shot John a wry look, and he made a show of scowling back.

"Anyway, I don't wanna take up your entire inbox, so bye. Call me back!" Aradia hung up the phone and sighed.

"No answer?"

"No, but I left a voicemail. I'm sure I'll hear back eventually if I keep calling."

"And she's your only option?"

"She's the only person whose number I know by heart. I'd need internet to talk to anyone else, and I'm not optimistic about the wifi situation here."

John shook his head. "Sorry. No internet. We had dialup years ago, but it was super slow and a big enough pain to deal with that my dad decided we were better off without it."

"Well in that case, we'll just have to wait to hear back from my sister." Aradia held her hand out toward John. "Until then, just consider me a roommate." She paused. "Or a new friend."

John didn't respond. He looked down at Aradia's hand, unsure of what she wanted him to do.

"You gonna leave me hangin'?"

"It's a handshake John. You shake my hand."

"Oh." It had been so long since John had shaken anyone's hand that he had forgotten that it was a thing people did in real life. He shook her hand, flinching a little at the unnatural coolness of her skin. Her grip was killer, her shaking motion a little bit too enthusiastic, and she held on for a little too long. She seemed earnest, though.

When she finally let go, she placed a hand on her hip and looked around the room. "So, do you have an extra room or will I have to sleep on the couch?"

John frowned. He was, in fact, one person living in a two bedroom house, so he did have an unoccupied room, but he really, really did not want to have freaky kinda dead Aradia sleeping there. He had moved into his parents' old room a few months back, but his old room was still full of his stuff. Even worse, it was full of embarrassing old teen stuff that he could barely stand to look at. Still, he also did not want a stranger sleeping in the bed that had once belonged to his parents, and he knew his dad would never forgive him for making a guest (unwanted or not) sleep on the couch because of a reason like that.

"Yeah. I have a room you can stay in, just don't mess around with my stuff too much."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"C'mon, I'll show you." John led Aradia out of the living room and around the corner that led to his childhood bedroom.

In contrast to the soft beachy colors that filled the rest of the house, the room in front of them was, although comfortable, very dark. The walls were deep royal blue, the furniture dark wood, and the bedspread a rich emerald color. Rows of shelves circled the room near the ceiling, each one covered in DVDs and notebooks, and the walls were covered in posters for those same movies. John hated looking at those posters. They oozed pure, concentrated sixteen years old at him, and it made his skin prickle. Aradia, on the other hand, looked delighted.

"I had no idea you like movies so much."

John shook his head. "I used to, but I don't anymore."

"Why not?" Aradia turned to lean against the doorframe and give him that ever present easy smile.

John shrugged. "You can only watch the same movies so many times. I got super into them back when my dad was here and I could drive into town to shop for new ones, but I can't leave this place alone to shop now, and I'm tired of everything I own."

"How long has it been since you watched any?"

"A year or so?"

"Then maybe you'd enjoy them again now that you've had a good break."

"I doubt it." John frowned. He regretted telling her as much about himself as he did, but his social graces were rusty as hell. In an effort to escape the situation, he checked the time on his watch. It was getting close to when he'd usually be getting up, so he decided it was time to shower and start his daily work.

"Hey, I have things to do. Try not to, uh, fuck anything up around here I guess."

"Oh, I won't." She winked at him. "Thank you again."

"Yeah, you're welcome." John turned and headed down the hall to begin his day, the back of his neck prickling under Aradia's eyes the whole way.