A/N: 12 chapters in all. Already started 2nd installment and one based on Twilight preview. I won't be leaving as many notes because graduation's coming up and I'll just be stopping by to update.

Chapter 9:

Let's go home.

It had such a nice sound to it. I was eager to get back to the comfy place Susannah had decorated and my bed was waiting for me. We walked home, not meeting anyone on the way, thankfully. I don't know how often it is a guy dressed in black walks down the street with a bloody ghost handkerchief held against his head, but I didn't want to find out if people thought it was suspicious.

It wasn't exactly dark out with the city lights, something that made me miss Carmel. You can see the stars much better there. I didn't hear any birds, namely pigeons, fluttering around. Whether this was because it was night or Susannah, I couldn't tell. As we walked, Susannah mumbled, "Just goes to show old sayings can be wrong."

It was more to herself than to me, but I asked, "And what saying would that be?"

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." She went on pointedly, "Bryan back there certainly had some fury to match hell's any day. Not all women fly off the handle when handling unrequited affections."

"Speaking from experience?" I probably shouldn't have asked, but I was curious.

Susannah gave an unladylike snort, "Hardly."

I smiled. I'd like to think it was because Susannah was different from anyone I've ever met before, ghost or otherwise, which was certainly true. But the back on my mind nagged at me that it was because her response hinted that she didn't have some long lost love, for which I was grateful. Or relieved. Damn wandering mind. I replied, "It's understandable, both views. Anyone would be upset if their feelings weren't reciprocated. Murderous, no. But upset I can understand."

Susannah looked peeved at this answer for a moment, but it passed.

As we walked, I took another glance at Susannah who I could see couldn't have been more that sixteen or seventeen when she died. She seemed like such the practical type that I couldn't see her death as something caused by her own doing. Maybe a little headstrong, but she would know when to back down. She had to have been killed by someone else's hand. What Jenny had said triggered me to ask carelessly, "Hey, Susannah? How did you die?" Way to go, Don Juan. Nice use of tact.

She was quiet for a long time, just staring forward. I hastily added, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, it's alright," she said softly. "The building wasn't always apartments and lofts, you know. The first two floors used to be a gallery owned by my family, the Simons."

"Oh?" I tried to sound like this was new information.

She nodded and continued, "My grandparents owned it, technically, and were leaving it to me. I was staying there to learn how to handle it."

"And something happened?" I prompted.

"Yes." By that time, we had reached our building. We both looked up to the top floor, where our home was. To most people, it probably looked creepy, the uppermost eve silhouetted by the moon and all. But to me, and probably Susannah, it just seemed depressing. She turned her eyes back to me, "But it's a long story. I'll tell you another time."

"Hey! That's not fair." I know I sounded childish, but I really wanted to know more about Susannah. "What happened?"

She just laughed. It was musical. "It's too late tonight. I'll tell you later."

I started towards the heavy glass doors but turned back a bit to ask, "Promise?"

Susannah nodded and started to shimmer away, "I promise. Goodnight, Jesse."

"Goodnight, querida."

I heard her say faintly behind me, "I told you not to call me that." She couldn't see me smile.

When I got up to my room and I flopped into bed, I realized that I still had Susannah's handkerchief. I got up again and went into the bathroom to wash off as much as the blood as I could. It was pinkish now, thanks to the blood, but I noticed under my fingertips that it had lace. Maybe it was the fact that Susannah didn't strike me as the lace type, but this piqued my interest.

Holding it up to see it properly, I saw that it was in fact a delicate lace border, about an inch all the way around the edges. In the right hand corner were the initials SS. They were large but embroidered carefully, with tiny stitches in near invisible light pink thread. I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. Young women always had these things back in those days, right? Even if they were of the, um, fiery type.

I laid out the handkerchief to dry on the counter of the bathroom and crawled back into bed. As I was falling asleep, I remembered exactly why most women had those handkerchiefs in the first place. As lovers' tokens. I didn't spend much time in that vein though, since Susannah obviously wasn't that type of girl. It was just to wipe up my bleeding head inflicted by flying rubble. That's all.

I really meant to wake up early the next morning and plan out what I was going to do to warn Shannon. But perhaps with the late night poltergeist and my musings about Susannah's handkerchief, I had forgotten to set my alarm or simply slept through it. I woke up late again, cursing, and went through my rushed routine of showering, dressing, and the sort. I still noticed in my hurry though that Susannah's handkerchief was gone. Oh well. Ghost possessions usually do that.

Carrie and Jenny arrived just as I began brushing my teeth. I let them in and they politely waited in the living room as I finished. When we were finally out the door, Carrie asked, "Forget to set your alarm clock or something?"

I sighed, "Something like that."

Of course when we got to the school, there were police cars parked out front. Jenny was ecstatic. "What do you think happened?" she asked excitedly.

Carrie frowned, "I dunno, but it can't be too serious if we still have school." I didn't say anything, but craned my neck to see what the officers were doing. One was interviewing Mr. Preston, who looked furious, while the other two inspected the debris.

Still the gossip buzzed around that day. Gina talked to me during first period, "Hey, did you hear? Someone came to the school after hours and trashed what was left of the fountain. Mr. Preston is going apeshit."

"Why?" Honestly, I don't think they could have charged me with anything if they'd caught me. The fountain had already been ruined. Bryan, Susannah, and I only broke it a little more.

She seemed to think the same thing. "Kinda immature, but there was no point callin' the cops. Some guys probably thought it would be funny to throw the pieces at each other, but one of them must have gotten hurt. There are a few drops of blood on the walkway."

"Do you think they can catch them that way?" I hoped I didn't sound nervous.

But Gina waved it off. "Nah. It takes money for a DNA test and junk. No point using it on a scant case of vandalism." I almost sighed in relief. Somehow, I think the NYC cops would be a bit harder to appeal to than the ones in Carmel.

But when the bell rang for fourth period hours later, I had much bigger things to worry about. I was heading for lunch when Jenny came running up to me, tears in her eyes. She sobbed, "Jesse, Jesse! Come quick! It's Gina and Shannon in the courtyard!"

I bolted out the doors and came across something that nearly made my heart stop. The gate to the courtyard was open, leading to an ambulance. On two gurneys being wheeled toward it were Gina and Shannon. I rushed up to them, but an officer blocked me. "That's my friend, Gina!" I explained.

"She and her friend were just in an accident," he said calmly. "They were walking through here when a piece of old ledge fell from one of the upper floors fell. Gina pushed the McKinley girl and took most of it, but McKinley still got a good hit." He started talking again about how he was contacting their parents, but I wasn't listening. I was glaring around him at a figure laughing at the other end of the courtyard. He was standing right next to Mr. Preston who looked overwhelmed by the day's events.

"You should have seen your face, man," Bryan laughed. "You burst through those doors all dramatic, pale as a ghost!"

Oh, I wanted to kill him. Or at least, hurt him as much as I could, which is actually a lot, by the way. Even without a physical body, your soul still remembers what pain is. And I wanted to reintroduce him to that. Before I could act on it though, I felt a tug at my sleeve. Jenny was standing there, tears streaming down her face. I got down on one knee and wiped away her tears with my sleeve. "Don't worry, Jenny. They're going to be alright."

She sniffled, "How do you know? All this weird stuff is happening with Shannon and now Gina…" If I was a cruel man, I would've pointed out that Jenny liked weird stuff. Good thing I wasn't.

"I just do," I replied reassuringly. "I promise. The weird stuff will stop soon." It was going to stop because I knew exactly what I needed to do now. Gina was the first friend I had made here, and he had hurt her. If I couldn't convince Bryan to walk into the light, I was going to throw him in there with an exorcism.