Chapter 2: Pretty in Pink
"Paul, leave now or I'll remove you, Querida, are you okay?"
I spun around and there was Jesse, looking oh so sexy leaning against the wall. Paul, being the dumbass that he is, just smirked and made him self more comfortable against my wall.
Jesse grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him of the ground. To make matters worse I heard someone come in the house.
"Jesse, put him down! Caveman much? Geez, and Paul," I hissed "get the heck out of here before whoever that is comes up!" except I didn't use the word heck. Jesse threw him on the floor and the idiot smirked and got up.
"I'll be seeing you later Suze, and just so you know, I'll be in your dreams." He shoved past me and Jesse and walked out my bedroom door.
I lunged for him but it was too late, he was already on the stairway, and to make matters worse he was fixing his clothes. I was closing my door but just managed to hear him say;
"Hey..." I closed the door.
"Susanna, what was he doing here?" I was so dead.
"Jesse look" I started but he wasn't even looking at me. There behind me was this drop dead gorgeous girl in this rose pink dress.
"Jesse, Jesse, Are you there?" I waved my hand in front of his face and he totally blew me off. Considering what I intended to do every Wednesday after school, I probably shouldn't have gotten mad but I did, I so was not in the mood to deal with this. There was a knock at my door and my step-dad called out my name, I didn't even think, I walked to my still open window and stepped out. I was so sleeping over at CeeCees. However, I couldn't go since you know, can't leave my boyfriend with some beautiful dead girl can I. Not that I didn't trust him or anything.
It's times like this that I seriously hate Paul with every fiber of my being. I mean, disliking him is one thing. But truly, madly, deeply, passionately, furiously loathing the very air that he breathes is another thing entirely. It means that it's not very likely he's going to be keeping his pelvic region healthy. I swear to God, one of these days, I am just going to kick him really, really hard...try and knock some sense into that brain of his.
Yes, brain.
I swear to God, that's where it probably is. I mean, that's why men name their penises. They want to be on first name terms with the thing that makes all of their decisions. Ugh...disgusting.
This girl, though, walked over so she was standing right in front of Jesse. Her rose pink dress looked like something in between formal wear and a wedding dress. In fact, it was such a pale pink that it was kind of white. She had a veil on, and everything. To Jesse, she said in a soft voice, 'Are you the Mediator?'
Jesse smiled kindly at her, still obviously unsure about me and Paul, but we "had a customer," so yeah. 'No,' he said, 'I am a gh - I am not. Susannah is the mediator. She will help you.'
Um, Jesse, she already saw me. And she went to you. Are you getting the HINT??? She has eyes, God damn it. Yeah, so do I. It was all I could do to keep myself from sighing every minute of every day in tribute to Jesse's glorious, ungodly sexiness.
Shut up, I'm sixteen.
The girl - or woman. I dunno, she looked only about twenty or something - turned to me, with wide eyes. Awww...I swear to God, her eyes were gorgeous. They like...I dunno, they were huge and brown and puppy-dog and all cute-sie and all.
Like, when she was a little kid, her mum never had the heart to smack her for being naughty, because she'd just flash the chocolate browns and she'd be off the hook. Her hair was a hay colour, and her cheeks were flushed. I fact, she had the works - make up, jewellery, lacy white gloves.
She was a bride.
I waved a little, feeling kind of pathetic in the midst of someone obviously so pretty. 'Err...hi.'
She looked at me pleadingly. 'I need your help! My fiancé and I are supposed to get married! But I'm so late! The carriage didn't show up, and so I took a cab! But the driver was going ever so fast, so I wouldn't be late for my wedding...only...' she frowned, looking confused.
'Then, I...I don't actually know what happened, but we have to hurry, or we'll keep everyone waiting! The reception cost so much, and booking the church, I'd hate to waste all of that! And Chris will think I left him at the altar - '
'Whoa,' I stopped her, holding up my hands. I seriously hate this bit. You know, breaking the whole you-have-no-pulse-you-deceased-spaz bit. But someone's gotta do it. Just I totally wish it didn't have to be me. I hate the looks of despair that are always coming my way, and the constant begging for me to "bring them to life again." 'Look...what's your name?'
'Rochelle,' she said in a dismissive manner, 'Rochelle Foster. Well...' she smiled giddily, 'I'm going to be Rochelle West soon, when Chris and I - ' she stopped, and urgency flooded her tones once more - 'But I have to get to the wedding! Do you have a car - ?!'
With a flustered look, I sighed and said, 'Look...Rochelle. I hate to tell you this, but...from the sounds of it...I think that cab that you were in...kind of crashed.'
She shook her head, uncomprehending. 'What?'
'You're dead,' I said solemnly.
She went very still. Paler than her passed self already was. For a very silent moment, we both stood, looking at each other. Then, she smiled unsurely. 'Oh,' she said nervously, 'Yeah, right.'
I closed my eyes, breathed, and looked back at her. 'I'm sorry,' I told her. 'But you're not getting married. You died. And it sucks. It really does.'
Again, she didn't speak. She only looked at me, with an expressionless gaze. Wait, strike that. Her gaze was getting more and more intense...she was watching her dreams crumble before her very eyes.
'...No,' she said, stepping back from me, shaking her head so her hair - which had been curled - swayed gently. 'No...but me and Chris...the wedding - '
'- Was probably called off,' I reasoned sadly. 'He still loves you. This guy, I mean. But they probably heard what happened. It probably broke his heart.'
Rochelle was staring at me, her huge brown eyes growing wider. In fact, they were starting to fill up with tears. I felt a horrible tugging at my heart. Man, even I was feeling low. Slowly, the tears increased, and then fell down the side of her perfectly made-up face, leaving shiny trails of wetness. Her Big Day, her one special moment, marriage to the guy she loved, had been taken away from her.
And I'd been the messenger.
Soon, she was crying. Really crying. She shielded her brown eyes with her hands, and hiccupped and moaned and gasped all at once. Rushes of compassion soared at me, and I walked over to her and patted her awkwardly on the back. 'I know,' I said. 'I know...'
She broke away from me. 'Don't touch me!' she shrilled, 'Get away from me!'
I wasn't surprised. I had been waiting for when she'd go agro on me. They always do. Rochelle Wes - no, Foster, had taken her time. She was obviously a good person. A lovely, attractive girl with big dreams. A decent young thing.
Now she was dead.
Tragedy if there ever was one.
Finally, at long last, Jesse intervened. He walked over to the crying Rochelle, and held her in his arms soothingly. And she totally let him! What, if he was...I don't know, a street bum or something, would she have let him do that? I think NOT. But...still...Jesse was totally the best, you know, being that Shoulder To Cry On and all.
Love the guy, I swear.
I sighed, and sat on my bed, waiting for Rochelle dearest to ease up so we could discuss what could be keeping her back. Ha...I had to wait a while. It was a whole ten minutes before Jesse calmed her down enough to talk to ME, the deliverer of evil news, again.
But yeah.
'Hey,' I said, 'I know that this is horrible. I see it all the time. But it never gets better. Everything is as bad as the last time. People, normal people...just dying - ' she hiccupped so I decided to lay off the depressing stuff - 'But we have to decide now, what's keeping you here?'
She sniffed, as Jesse still rubbed her back sympathetically. I swear to God...I am SO getting a dress like that - sorry, off topic... 'Keeping me here?'
'You know,' I shrugged, 'on earth. With those who still breathe.' Ew, no tact. Her eyes welled up, and Jesse glared at me. 'I mean, why haven't you moved on, to your afterlife,' I said carefully.
Her eyes widened in recognition. 'Oh...okay...well, it's obvious why I'm still here,' she said simply.
I brightened up. At last, a confident speaker. 'And why is that?'
Rochelle straightened her dress. 'I have to marry Christopher.'
...Man...not another one...
"Okay, listen. You. Are. DEAD. D-E-A-D. You can't get married to him, because he. Is. Alive. And he probably can't see you. So do you understand? You, dead. Him, alive. It just won't work." I said speaking alowly as if I was talking to Paul, I mean an idiot.
I know, I know, not very diplomatic, but you try and do better! Anyways Jesse was glaring at me and Rochelle looked at me like I was the one who was stupid.
"Susanna, she knows that and I am sure that if you let her talk she would explain, go ahead amor." Jesse hissed.
I was shocked. Jesse had just called Ghost girl amor and had HISSED at me? What the hell? Have I entered an alternate universe, because that sure is what it felt like. Jesse's amor. (I really need to look that word up) replied, "I can marry him if he dies." And with that she faded out.
A/N: This part of the tag-team was written by Lolly (Mystique Angelique) and myself, I hope you like. : )
Banana Princess: yeah, that's what I think, OH YEAH Canadians ROCK!! lol,
TheDarkness-IsFun:lol, that is our Paul, I will keep posting since most of the story is good. : D