A/N: I'm SOOOOOO sorry I took this long. I've just been busy, with school, and everything. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter, it ends kind of abruptly, but erm, I'll get the next one up soon, I promise.

Oh, and the little italicized thing at the bottom is from Romeo and Juliet, but I changed a few of the lines around. So, it actually isn't much like it was…but that's okay.

Ikinder 0: He is a bit like cupid, isn't he? Although, I wouldn't tell him that…

Disclaimer: Own nothing. Everything belongs to Meg Cabot, and Willy Shakespeare. Mostly known as William Shakespeare.

Chapter 7

It has been twenty four hours since I've last seen Jesse.

I'm really not surprised.

I mean, I kissed the guy and he disappeared for a week, so, you know. When he—sort of—told me he loved me, it made sense that he would go away.

It didn't mean that I had to like it, though.

Or, be happy with the guy.

Hasn't he figured out by now, that I love him back?

Honestly.

Men.

Especially the dead ones.

After Jesse had left, I just kind of stood there for a while, staring at the spot he had been occupying just nanoseconds earlier.

Paul, unknowingly, had come up behind me, being all, "so, what did Rico do now?"

To which I was only able to smile stupidly and shake my head, before walking out of the cemetery in a semi-dazed state.

I know, it was odd.

But…love makes people do strange things.

And finding out he loves you back? Priceless.

For everything else…

Okay Suze, focus.

So, now, I was finishing up Romeo and Juliet. I had, thank God, actually started to understand it. A little.

So I was flipping through the last few scenes, and thinking that Juliet didn't have it so bad.

She had a guy who loved her, and well, okay, so they were both about to kill themselves, but it did say, 'happy dagger'…so, you know. All's well that ends well.

Maybe not.

But still, so what if Romeo was dead?

I guess she wasn't a mediator.

I would have given anything to have my…boyfriend (if that was the right word) hanging around. Only, you know, he didn't seem to want to be anywhere within the same proximity as myself.

Making this a problem.

The whole, boyfriend/girlfriend thing, I mean.

It's a little hard using only half the equation. There doesn't tend to be a solution. At least, not one that makes sense…

Just as Romeo was finding Juliet 'dead' on the tomb thingy, I decided I'd had way too much of that play for one day, and shut the book.

Leaving me without much of anything to do.

Except, sit and wait for you know who to show up.

Which didn't look like it was going to happen very soon. Why did everything have to be so complex? Honestly. I'm a girl, he's a guy, we're in love—there isn't supposed to be the whole 'ghost' thing thrown in there.

It tends to mix things up a little too much for my liking.

God, my life is such a soap. Seriously. Only, a wee bit more interesting. I would hope, anyway.

Shakespeare, totally could have used me for inspiration.

It would have been a great story.

I wonder if he was a mediator…probably not.

I mean, you think he'd still be hanging around, with them having lost his corpse and everything.

Which, in my opinion, is a difficult thing to do. A dead body isn't something easily misplaced.

I would hope, anyway.

But people seem to do it all the time.

I sighed, and drug myself off my bed, and over to the window seat. It was about eleven at night, from what my clock was saying.

And those, do not lie.

Oh…God. What if he didn't really love me? What if he was avoiding me, just because he didn't love me, but was to nice to tell me?

Oh.

This was sooooo not a good thing.

I mean, if he just waltzed up and was like, "Susannah, I don't love you," I think I would just curl up and die. Seriously. It would be like he had just ripped my heart out, and stomped on it.

Only, I think that would hurt less.

Why did I love him?

I don't know.

I loved everything about him. Just…everything. The little things, the big things, everything.

I even loved the way he annoyed me. I think…

Was that what love was?

I lay on the seat, moonlight hitting my face. It is a lot more pleasant, I have found, to be hit by moon rays than sun beams. Honestly. For one thing, there is no 'moon burn' that I have ever heard of.

But then again, we in Carmel lead a sheltered life.

So, you know.

I lent against the wall, and propped my purple kitty pajama covered legs up on the window cushion, crossed my arms over my chest and just kind of…drifted…for a while.

I guess I must have conked out though, because when I was conscious again, there was another body in my room.

Well, 'body' may have been too…strong a word for it.

Presence, or soul, might have been a better choice in words.

What I'm trying to spit out, is that Mr. De Silva had finally decided to grace me with his presence.

But I don't think he wanted me to know he was there, if the way that he walked over to me, and gently touched the side of my face was any indication. This was not, I knew, something he would have done if I was awake.

I felt his lips gently touch my cheek, and his warm breath in my hair, as he whispered, "Querida".

I kept my eyes shut and only peeked out when he sat down by my feet, staring out at the moon.

He started mumbling to himself in Spanish, and I kind of feared for his sanity.

"You know I love you…" was the first thing I heard him say in English, and he turned to look at me when he said it.

Ah.

So he knew I was up.

"…but it can't be." His voice was quiet, so quiet that I knew I was wrong, and he thought I was still asleep.

The fact that he was right, wasn't registering in my mind. The fact that he had just admitted he loved me, was the only thing I heard in my brain. He'd said it. Jesse, I mean. Jesse had admitted to me, (in English) that he was, in fact, very much in love with me.

Me. Suze Simon.

At least, I hope he was talking about me. And not, Spike, or something. That would be wrong. And depressing.

We could make it work…

He froze, and said, "Susannah?"

Oh. I said that out loud.

Oops.

Oh well. Bite the bullet, eh?

"We could," I sat up, and gently took his hand, liking the way that heat spread from his hand to mine…even if it wasn't real.

Because he had no body heat.

Hell, he didn't have a body. Well, technically, he did, but I really didn't want to dig it up. That would be gross, you know?

He stood up quickly, the hand going through the hair at a million miles an hour, his fingers were trembling.

I stood up too, because, really? I'd had enough.

"What," I hissed at him, "is your problem? One minute, you're all, 'Susannah, I love you', and the next your refusing to touch me. What, am I a leper or something?" If this was a cartoon, steam would fully be coming out of my ears right now, and I'd probably be sprouting a nice set of horns too.

He sighed, and walked toward me, taking both of my hands in his.

"It's true. I love you. But…you are…alive, Querida, I'm…not."

That was a nice way of putting it.

"So what? It doesn't really make any difference to me, in case you haven't noticed, or something."

He smiled, but it was really more of a grimace, "It doesn't make a difference now, but it will. Very shortly. I can never escort you on a date, I could never take you to this, what is it called? Oh, yes, prom," which was coming up in just a week or two, "we could never get married, never have children…," he paused, contemplating what a shitty life we'd have together. But, at least it would be together.

"Slater," he continued, "was right. It would never work," I could feel a tear fall from my eye. It slowly cascaded down my cheek, and before it could drop off my face, he caught it.

With his lips.

"Don't cry Querida," and then I started bawling.

Because he was right, we could never be together. Only like this. Which wasn't so bad, but it wasn't…well, he wasn't alive.

So I, Susannah Simon, was bawling my eyes out—and probably looking like a total bowser—in front of the man of my dreams.

The bright side of this, was that I was pressed up against his chest, and he had his arms wrapped around me. That brightened me up pretty quick, actually.

"Susannah…I would give anything, everything, just to change that fact." Only it wasn't like he had a whole lot to give up, or anything. I mean, the guy is dead. But, I'm not going to pop his bubble.

I looked up into the dark pools of his eyes, and saw how much he really meant everything he said.

"I know, and…so would I." It was scary, but true.

I plopped down on the window seat, and he sat down next to me. I looked up at him, then dragged his head down with one hand, pressed my lips to his.

It was the first time I'd ever kissed him, not the other way around, and it was nice to know that he didn't mind…if the way he was kissing me back was any indication.

I felt those fireworks go off behind my eyelids, that fire in my stomach…and we were kissing pretty heavily by then…and mostly of the French variety.

But just as I was running my hands over his chest, feeling those deep ridged muscles, he stopped kissing me, and rolled over so that he was laying next to me on the bench. I snuggled up next to him, and we just laid like that for a while. It was, really, really nice.

Later that night, I woke up, still in Jesse's arms. He appeared to be asleep, which was odd, because ghosts don't need to sleep. But, he was as asleep as I'd ever seen someone. In my groggy state, I dismissed it.

Just as I was starting to drift off again I heard this little whisper. It totally sounded like a movie voice, one of those cryptic ones. I swear, that's what I thought it was. Only I thought it was Jesse doing it. But that couldn't be it, he was asleep…

A pair of star-crossed lovers meet their fate,

Whose misadventured piteous overthrows,

Doth with his death was the beginning,

And with his life, they bury their long lived strife.

I tried to make out the words, but they faded in my mind, like water, trickling out of a closed fist. No matter how hard you try to hang on, it goes away.

But being me, I just buried my head on Jesse's chest, snuggling under the arm he had around me, and slept.

A/N: You like? I hope you.

I'll get the next chapter up A.S.A.P. okay?