Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters. I'm borrowing them.

Amazing. I love you guys. You're freaking awesome and I adore you beyond words. Seriously. Massive love for all of you coming from my general direction.

Thanks to my beta, sixeightshuffle. She's awesome, you should read her stuff. I love her dearly. Angie, Meg, Shae and Shelley – you girls are just as awesome and I wouldn't be doing any of this without you. I less than three all of you.

Enjoy!

If anyone was watching me, I was screwed. I looked like a crazy man, huddled up in the corner of the local library that was probably about as big as my living room, with books on witchcraft and exorcisms piled by my feet. To make matters even worse, I was wearing a dark hoodie with the hood up and a pair of dark jeans that I'd unearthed from a random box that morning. If that didn't scream emo, then I'm not really sure what did.

It did manage to hide me from most of the prying eyes I'd seen when I walked in at first, though. It didn't matter if they didn't actually know me – hell, that was half the problem. I was new here and the last thing I really needed was to have all these crazy rumors floating around about my interest in the dark arts, as the sign where I'd found these books had proudly proclaimed.

Living with a ghost wasn't bad enough, you know. I had to make myself out to be insane while I was at it.

One of the books asked me if I was depressed and needed to exorcise all the "demons" in my life. Another pinpointed, in horrific detail, how they'd been possessed by a ghost and had to have a priest come in and cleanse them. It sounded more like a book version of the Poltergeist movie than a memoir like the cover had claimed it to be. The rest told me I needed a priest, and said that it would be better if I belonged to that Church.

Something about being emotionally tied to them or some such thing.

Well, I wasn't a very religious person to begin with. My form of religion consisted of watching my mother play with her crystals and talk to her plants every damn day – that was enough for me.

Finally, the sixteenth – and last – book had a bit of information that might help. I could ignore her, and if that didn't work, there was some mention of spreading salt around the perimeter of the house. Then there was something about burning sage. My mother had to have sage as one of her plants; she had to. And hopefully, she wouldn't ask questions about why I needed it. Then, if the salt and the sage didn't work, there was a prayer that I needed to say.

It all sounded simple enough.

I unfolded myself from the chair and after finding a piece of scrap paper left on a table and a pen, I wrote down the prayer I'd need to say if all else failed. I placed the books on one of the rolling carts spread throughout the small room, tucked the piece of paper into my hoodie pocket and made sure my hood was still far enough up that no one would see me or recognize me without it. I walked out of the library with my arms crossed over my chest, shooting nervous glances all around me as I booked it down the sidewalk and over to my car.

I made it home in less than five minutes, my eyes snapping over to Rosalie's house to find that her car was gone and the entire house looked like it was locked up tight. She had to have parents, right? I mean, there was a beat up puke-green Chevy sitting off to the side, so someone had to logically be home, right?

I rolled my eyes at myself as I slammed my way out of the car and started towards my front door.

I had a ghost to get rid of and here I was, thinking about whether or not Rosalie had parents. Of course she has parents, you fucknut. She didn't magically appear out of thin air one day.

Grumbling, I stuck the key in the lock and shoved the door open, jumping when I saw her sitting on the stairs again.

"So, my dear Edward, what did you come up with?" she asked, tilting her head to the side and smirking at me.

I opened my mouth and then closed it again, shaking my head and closing the door behind me. No, I was not going to talk to her. I wasn't even going to ask how she knew what the hell I'd been up to because the book said to ignore her. She'd get bored with my not talking to her or putting up with this foolish charade she had going on here and then she'd just… poof like I'd wanted her to do in the first place.

Problem solved. No more ghostie in my house. Life, complete.

I walked into the kitchen and looked around, wondering if my mother had gotten around to finding the salt and putting it away yet. Shrugging, I started rummaging through cabinets, doing my best to ignore the prickling on the back of my neck that went along with the footsteps I heard behind me.

"Your mother has started planting a garden in the back," she started conversationally. "I think it'll look good and she really wants those flowerbeds out front fixed. You should do that for her."

I bit my tongue, slamming a cabinet door closed with more force than was absolutely necessary, before I moved onto another one.

How hard was it to find fucking salt? It was a common damn household item. Granted, our household had never been common, not to mention normal, but that shouldn't have made a difference, right? We had to have fucking salt somewhere.

"It's in the next one."

I blinked at the partially empty cabinet in front of me and slowly turned on my heel to look back at her. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, about five feet from where I was, with an amused smile on her face.

"Salt, right? Your mother put it in the next one this morning."

"Can you read my mind or something?" I snapped, immediately regretting it.

She'd never go away if I kept talking to her, damn it.

"You wouldn't be the first to try and get rid of me." I watched the sadness flash in her eyes before she closed them and then shrugged, opening her eyes and smiling brightly at me. "Be my guest, Edward, but we both know that I'm not going anywhere."

Oh, no, she was going, damn it. I didn't care what the hell I had to do, but she was going and I didn't give a shit where she went.

"Although, I'd really like to hear what kind of an explanation you'll give your father when he sees salt spread all around the house."

"The outside," I mumbled.

"Oh, that'll never work." I glared at her. "None of it will work, but if you want to pretend to do it right, you'll have to do it around the stairs." She pointed behind her. "And in your room. It'll feel like a beach underneath your bare feet so I hope you're prepared to deal with that."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"The living, breathing man who can actually leave this house is going to start whining to the dead girl who can't go anywhere and just needs a little help from you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Would you really like me to get started on this?"

My shoulders slumped forward and I felt myself starting to pout.

"Why can't you talk to my mother? She's better at this shit than I am."

"No, she thinks she is, Edward. Your mother is a nice person, but she knows nothing of the other realm she's so fond of trying to explore. She's only going to get herself into trouble if she keeps it up with that Ouija board of hers."

The whole room just got a lot brighter.

"Edward," she warned, placing her hands on her hips and pointing at me. "Don't."

"Ah, I found the loophole, huh?" I asked, slamming the cabinet door closed and starting to walk out of the kitchen. "She's in the back, you say?"

"Edward…"

"I don't have time for this. This is my life you're trying to disrupt here," I stated, walking into the front hallway and grabbing the doorknob.

"I had a life, too!" she exclaimed, and I stopped, staring at the door. "I had a damn good one and it was ripped away from me! I just need some help, Edward!"

She was almost pleading, it sounded like, and my stomach twisted uncomfortably at her tone. She'd been nothing but sarcastic and snarky since she found out that I could see her, and to hear her sounding so fucking… desperate kind of made me feel like an asshole.

"I am no one."

"That's not true," she said, her voice heated and right behind me.

I jumped slightly and closed my eyes briefly, sucking in a deep breath before turning around and opening my eyes to face her.

"You don't even know me."

"Hold up your hand."

The broken light bulb fiasco immediately flashed through my mind and I swallowed hard, watching as she held up her right hand between us.

"No," I said quietly, shaking my head and flattening myself against the door.

"Edward, please."

"You can make a freaking light bulb explode without even touching it! There's no freaking way I'm going to let you touch any part of me. Fuck knows what else you can do."

"I can't hurt you, Edward. Your mother walked through me!" she exclaimed, flinging her arm towards the kitchen doorway. "She didn't even notice!"

"Yeah, well, she can't see you! I can! I'm not testing any theory."

"You are infuriating!" she screeched, stomping her foot.

I raised an eyebrow at her and she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at me.

"You're not much better! Fuck, can't you just leave me alone?"

"I wish that I could!" she snapped.

"Why can't you?" I yelled, throwing my own arms out to the sides and narrowing my eyes at her.

"If you'd let me touch you, you'd understand!"

"I don't want to explode!"

"You're absolutely… I can't even talk to you!"

"Good! I don't want to talk to you anymore anyway!"

She screeched again and then stomped up the stairs as if throwing a tantrum. The only difference, of course, was when she disappeared at the top of the stairs instead of stomping the rest of the way into a bedroom to slam the door like any other normal, hormonal teenage girl would do.

"Crazy fucking ghost," I grumbled under my breath, stepping away from the door and running a hand through my hair.

"Edward?" my mother asked, pushing through the door.

She had on that horrific hat that could've shielded her from just about anything and her green gardening gloves were full of soil. She was wearing a dark green dress and her bangles were missing from her wrists, which I was more than thankful for. Those things were annoying as fuck.

"Uh, hi."

"Why were you yelling?"

Fuck. Hadn't given that much thought, had I?

"I was, uh… singing," I said nervously, clearing my throat and dropping my hands back to my sides. "Had this song stuck in my head and couldn't get it out."

She tilted her head at me, slowly reaching up to pull her hat off and hold it down at her side.

"You never sing that loudly, honey."

"I just felt like it today."

She dropped the hat on the banister of the stairs and began to pull off her gloves.

"Would you like to tell me what's going on?"

"There's nothing to tell, Mom."

"I'm not so sure that I believe you."

"Mom, I'm fine." I licked my lips and shook my head, looking down at my watch. "I have a date tonight."

I looked up to see complete bewilderment on her face and shrugged innocently, smirking.

"How did that happen?"

"The girl across the street. I'm taking her out tonight."

"Oh!" She brightened and stood up a little straighter, beaming at me and hopefully forgetting that I'd been screaming at nothing as far as she was concerned. "Well, that's very nice, dear. What time?"

"Seven."

I watched as a foreign smirk that caused a chill to run up and down my spine showed up on her face before she nodded and reached out to pat me on the head.

"Very nice, dear," she mumbled again. "I'm going to start dinner for your father."

I nodded and watched as she danced into the kitchen, humming before she disappeared around the corner. I huffed out a deep breath and reached up to run my hands through my hair, shaking my head before slowly starting up the stairs.

I wonder how hard it would be to convince Dad to move somewhere else…

"We're going to the diner," Rosalie stated as she plopped into my car and straightened out what I thought was supposed to be a skirt.

It looked more like a pair of underwear. Not that I was complaining… Even though it had taken her forty fucking minutes to get ready and I spent the entire time in her living room, being watched like a hawk by her half-deaf grandmother that reeked of moth balls.

"Okay," I mumbled, nodding once as I jammed my keys into the ignition.

"Do you know where it is?" she asked absently, flipping the visor down and pursing her lips at her reflection.

I looked over at her, raising an eyebrow before backing out of the driveway. I didn't just move here a few days ago or anything… Of course I knew where everything was already.

"No."

She snapped the visor back into place and grabbed her seatbelt, pulling it across her lap and pointing ahead of us.

"Go that way." No, really? I thought I'd go the opposite way… on our dead end street. "Then take a right."

I nodded and started towards the end of the street, absently tapping my fingertips against the steering wheel.

"So… you live with your grandmother," I stated, struggling to come up with something to say.

I didn't know anything about this girl, but apparently, the only time that she wanted to start a conversation was when I was staring at her from across the street.

"My parents live in France. I live here for school."

"Why?"

"We all lived here a while ago, but my parents decided that they wanted to move to France a few years ago. So, I spend a month of the summer with them and the rest of my time here." She sighed heavily, leaning her head back against the seat. "I can't wait to graduate and be able to go wherever I want."

"Will you go to France?"

"Hell no." She scoffed and sat up straight, telling me to take a left at the next road. "I want to just travel. Maybe backpack somewhere."

"Are you going to college?"

"I have no desire to go to college." She looked over at me. "I'm done talking about this. Are you a virgin?"

I might've choked on my tongue.

"What?" I wheezed.

"You heard me. Don't be shy, Eddie."

My eye twitched and my hands tightened on the wheel as my breathing returned to normal, and I made sure that my tongue was where it was supposed to be.

"No," I grumbled. "You?"

"Don't you know better than to ask a girl that?"

At this point, five minutes into our date, I was sorely tempted to turn around and take her home. This girl had the ability to drive me even crazier than Bella was currently trying to do.

"But it's okay to ask me that?"

"Well, I need to know. For future reference…"

"Rosalie's just using you…" "…She's aiming to make him jealous."

I shook my head, silently cursing Bella for telling me anything about my new hot neighbor-girl that had a special talent for finding that one nerve to drive me crazy within ten seconds.

"Right," I grumbled instead. "Okay."

"What do you wanna do when you graduate?"

"Go back to California."

"Would you be an actor?"

I looked over at her briefly, noting that she looked about as excited as my mother had when she asked me if I'd seen a ghost the first night in our house. I didn't like that look.

"No," I mumbled, shaking my head and turning back to the road.

"Oh." She shifted a little in her seat and then pointed to what was supposed to pass for a diner on the side of the road. "Here it is."

I pulled into the remarkably empty parking lot and turned off the car. I pushed open my door and waited at the front for her, looking up at the slightly crumbling green and brown exterior. When I didn't hear another door close or hear her footsteps, I slowly turned on my heel to find that she was still waiting in the car, her arms crossed over her chest and her head tilted to the side.

Oh, for Christ's sake…

I huffed, pocketed my keys, and walked to her side of the car, pulling open her door.

"Well, it's about time," she sniffed before holding out her hand and apparently waiting for mine.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed her hand, helping her step out and closing the door once she'd moved out of the way. I followed her into the diner, my eyes automatically attached to the way her hips swayed despite the fact that I wanted to turn around and leave her there on her own.

She led me towards a table in the back and stood behind her chair, looking pointedly at me as I pulled out my own seat. Licking my lips, I walked around and pulled her chair out for her, smiling tightly at her as she sat down and crossed her legs. Running a hand through my hair, I stepped back towards my own chair and sat down, watching as she grabbed a menu from the holder on the side.

"Do you still talk to any of your old friends?" she asked absently, her eyes trained on the long counter off to the side.

I eyed the side of her head suspiciously before I grabbed the other menu and flipped it open.

"I haven't, no."

"How come?"

"I just… haven't," I grumbled.

Between trying to get a ghost out of my house and getting my room unpacked, I honestly hadn't given much thought to contacting any of my friends just yet. Honestly, I hadn't realized how much I missed all of them until she brought it up.

"Oh."

I looked up when a shadow crossed the table and my eyes widened a little bit at the huge man standing next to us with an order pad in his hand and an amused smirk on his lips. The corners of his blue eyes were crinkled with something close to laughter and the whole atmosphere in our little corner of the diner shifted to complete awkwardness.

"Hello, Rosie." He nodded towards me, grinning fully. "Hello, Rosie's new attempt to piss me off. What can I get for you?"

I blinked at him and then looked over at Rosalie. Her face was turning red and her lips were pressed into a tight line as her hands gripped the menu so hard that her knuckles were turning white.

"Emmett," she growled. "You know what I want."

"Oh, that I do, sweetheart," he said cheerfully, tapping a pen against his order pad. "How about you? What can I get for you?"

"Uh… a Coke and a chicken sandwich," I managed, shaking my head.

"Great. Be back with all of that soon enough." He looked back at Rosalie and grinned again. "Nice to see you, babe. Hope you enjoyed your romp with your little French boyfriend."

She barely muffled a screech and slammed her menu down on the table, glaring after him as he walked away whistling.

Great. Not only was Bella right, but now I'd have to deal with her. And she'd be all fucking smug about it, too.

I dropped Rosalie off on her doorstep an hour later, kissing her cheek quickly before turning and walking back to my car. It was absolutely pointless to drop her off at her house and then drive the second and a half it took to get to mine, but she'd insisted that I walk her to her damn door.

She'd spent the rest of the dinner fuming and grumbling about how stupid men were and honestly expected me to enjoy the entire thing? I wasn't sure what planet she'd come from and I sure as fuck wasn't sure what had happened between her and the mountain that had been our waiter at the diner, but I wanted no part in any of it.

Now, I just wanted to get inside the house and go upstairs to text all my friends like I should've done when I first got my damn phone.

I managed to pull in behind my father's Mercedes and jumped out of the car, practically sprinting up to the stairs and into the house. The lights were off and the living room was only lit by candles. My mother was sitting in the middle of the room with her back to me and her head thrown back. Her arms were stretched out in front of her for reasons I couldn't understand and I just shrugged, not wholly concerned with whatever she might've been doing.

I started up the stairs, swinging my keys around my pointer finger and looking up when I heard footsteps at the top of the stairs. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my father peering down at me.

"Is she still down there?"

I nodded and he sighed heavily, shaking his head and grumbling. He threw his hands in the air before turning and walking back into their bedroom, quietly closing the door. I could faintly hear the sounds of the small television and I smirked, shaking my head before I finished climbing the rest of the stairs and pushed through my door.

I heard whimpering and immediately stopped, my keys falling from my hand and crashing loudly against the floor. I quickly reached over and turned on the light, my eyes widening when I saw Bella curled up into a ball by the boxes I still had in the corner of my room. She was see-through and I swear to God, I saw tears on her cheeks. Her arms were wrapped around her waist and she kept flashing – like the lights when they start to go out during a bad thunderstorm.

"Bella?" I whispered.

She just shook her head and turned to rest her forehead on the floor, her legs pulling up tighter against her chest.

"Bella, what's going on?"

I swallowed hard and looked over my shoulder before walking towards her and bending down in front of her.

This was more terrifying than the light bulb incident.

"Your… mother," she gasped, her voice raspy and gravelly. "Stop. Please… stop."

"What are you…? What is she…?"

"The… board. Oh, God," she whispered, turning onto her stomach and pounding one of her fists against the floor.

Even the attempt was weak and I watched with even wider eyes when her whole hand started… fading away.

"Please," she begged, flopping back onto her side and opening her eyes into little slits. "Please, make her… stop."

I stood up and turned, running out of my room and down the stairs.

"Mom!" I yelled, jumping onto the floor before running into the living room. "Mom, what are you doing?"

"Edward, honey, go away," she said quietly, her voice far off. "I'm busy, sweetheart."

I ran a hand through my hair and winced when I heard a loud, pained cry come from upstairs. I watched my mother to see if she'd noticed and swallowed in relief when she didn't move.

"How long have you been at this, Mom? Come on, it's obviously not working," I said, laughing nervously.

The girl – ghost – might've pissed me off more than she did anything else, but I didn't like the way she'd looked. I didn't like that she was begging and transparent and crying and in obvious pain. If my mother was causing all of that and I had the power to stop it, I would damn well try.

My heart was beating heavily against my ribs as I heard another whimper sound from upstairs.

"I thought that maybe I'd gotten something about an hour ago," she sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she took her hands off the pointer. "I guess not."

An hour ago? That had to mean that as soon as I'd left the house, she'd…

Fucking Christ.

"Dad wanted you," I said, dropping my hands to my sides and watching carefully as she started packing away the board. "I'm gonna go… call Jasper."

With that, I ran back up the stairs and stood in the doorway of my now empty room.

"Bella?" I whispered, walking in and closing the door behind me.

I started towards the boxes even though she was obviously not there, and sat down heavily on the edge of my bed with my hands in my lap and my eyes fixed on the spot she'd been in. Something bright and sparkly caught my eye and I was quick to slide from my bed to the floor, picking up the small teardrop diamond. I turned it around in my hand, squeezing it and wincing from the pain as it stabbed into my palm.

Shaking my head, I stood up and walked over to my desk, dropping the diamond into the cup that held a few pens and a pair of scissors. Running a hand through my hair again, I picked my keys up from the floor before toeing off my shoes and grabbing my phone from my pocket.

I'd talk to her tomorrow and apologize for my mother. Everything would be fixed tomorrow.