Chapter Seven

Beetlejuice had been to Central Park before, but never in a living body. Somehow the ability to feel the chill in the air and to breathe in the scent of dying leaves and fountain water and the pretzel stand across the way was completely different from haunting it.

Lydia was standing next to the fountain, looking in the opposite direction. He watched for a moment; he still had trouble believing this grown-up woman was the same little girl with whom he'd shared so many adventures.

As he stood there looking at her, she turned her head and saw him. She smiled and waved, which he took as his cue to join her.

"Oh, good, you got my message!" she said. "I was worried you wouldn't come or that I'd dialed the wrong number…here." She handed him back the change from her cab ride. "Thank you so much, Benjamin. I would have never made it to work on time if you hadn't helped. I'm so glad you're giving me this chance to repay you."

"No problem," Benjamin replied. "Just let me know how I can help you with your shoot."

Lydia's eyes were shining. "Let's start with some shots here and then work our way towards the Ramble; I brought three rolls of film, so I really want to cover a lot of ground."

"Sounds perfect."

As they made their way through Central Park, Lydia surprised herself by how much she was talking. She almost felt guilty talking so much, but Benjamin was an attentive listener and extremely interested in all of her latest exploits.

"And last spring, I did a set of headless mannequins for my end of year project. I got an A, but I don't think my professor really understood it."

"Really?"

"She praised my critique of the public's mindless following of trends," Lydia continued, looking somewhat bashful, "but I was actually inspired by The Return of the Guillotine: Marie's Revenge."

"Some teachers…" Benjamin replied, shaking his head. "Great taste in movies, by the way."

"You've seen The Guillotine series?"

Benjamin nodded.

"Wow, I've never met someone else who'd seen them!" Lydia continued. "I mean, I know they're silly, but I grew up watching those sorts of films."

They stopped so Lydia could catch a few shots of some autumn leaves falling and then moved to a park bench.

"It's getting dark," Benjamin observed. "Have you used up the last roll of film yet?"

"No, there's room for a few more."

Benjamin turned his head, saying, "Oh?" only to hear the click of the shutter.

"Got it!"

"What was that for?" Benjamin said indignantly. "I wasn't ready!"

"Well, I needed a shot of you, since you've been such a big help to me today," Lydia explained. "Besides, I prefer candid over posed, so I had to catch you off guard."

"I still think you should have warned me…"

"Here," she said, thrusting the camera into his hands. "We'll make it even; take one of me. There's just enough film left for that."

Benjamin cradled the instrument uneasily and looked at her.

"OK, face this way."

Lydia obediently turned and looked somberly at the camera.

"OK, smile."

"I don't smile for pictures," she said, "unless the photographer makes me laugh."

"Oh…" Benjamin looked around. "Then look over there."

Lydia looked where he pointed, at a man eating a hot dog.

"What's so funny about him?" she asked.

Using his powers, Beetlejuice made the hot dog squirt into the man's face, covering him with mustard. Just as Lydia giggled, he snapped the picture.

"Perfect," he said. "With that, I'd say the shoot is over."

"I guess so," Lydia replied. She was reluctant to have her meeting with Benjamin end. "Thank you so much for all your help today. Are you sure I can't repay you in some way?"

"You already have," he answered. "I had a wonderful time."

"As did I."

"You know," Benjamin shuffled his feet on the ground. "I don't have to go home. It would be really nice if you would join me for dinner."

Lydia's smile widened. "I'd love that."

They talked all through dinner and throughout the entire bus ride back to Lydia's neighborhood. Later, in a tiny hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, they warmed their hands around steaming mugs of cocoa and cider. Lydia laughed until her sides hurt as Benjamin recounted make-believe stories from his false childhood. She even told him a few stories from her own past—he recognized the veiled references to his own self and smiled to hear her reminisce about their happy times together.

"What happened to him?" he found himself asking.

Lydia paused, visibly shocked. "We…we had a fight," she finally began. "It was stupid and immature, but I haven't seen him since." She gripped her cider harder. "We never got the chance to apologize."

A long silence ensued.

"That's awful," Benjamin said. "But maybe…maybe you'll be able to make up with him someday."

"Someday," Lydia said wistfully.

At this point, the coffee shop's owner had to come over and ask them to leave so that he could close. They hurriedly finished their drinks and left.

"I can't believe it's almost midnight!" Lydia said as the shop door closed behind her. "I was hoping to start developing some of the pictures from our shoot, but it's much too late now."

"Oh, come on; aren't you in college?" Benjamin scoffed. "You don't stay up late most nights?"

Lydia shook her head. "Not tonight. I have work early in the morning."

"I can respect that."

The air outside the coffee shop was cold and windy. Benjamin wordlessly offered Lydia his coat, which she gratefully accepted and then surprised him by taking his arm as well.

"Walk me home?"

"Sure."

After having so much to talk about over cocoa, the walk to Lydia's apartment was quiet. There was an easy sense of comfort the two of them felt as they walked the seventeen blocks back, but at the same time, each was secretly studying the other's actions and trying to figure out what they would do when they finally reached her apartment.

When they reached the lobby of the building, Benjamin was ready to take his coat back and leave, but before he could do so, Lydia asked, "Wanttocomeup?" as fast as she could, almost as if she was too embarrassed to say it.

They climbed the stairs wordlessly, both of them trying to figure out what this meant, both afraid that the other thought this meant that.

"Come in," Lydia said nervously as she unlocked the door. "It's not much, but it's a place to live."

She directed him to the couch and put a kettle on a hot plate to make tea.

"Want to watch a movie?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.

"I'd love that," Benjamin replied, causing them both to breathe a sigh of relief. It was just a movie.

But Lydia couldn't deny that the hint of attraction she'd felt this morning when she'd first met Benjamin was growing much stronger. There was something so…familiar about him; it was comforting, too, to talk to a guy who didn't push, who wasn't pressuring her for a commitment. Couldn't she just enjoy a friendship without feelings getting in the way?

The moment that thought ran through her mind, she knew where she'd gone wrong. Even years later, she was ashamed of the emotions that had raged through her as a sixteen-year-old. Who fell in love with her best friend? No, she had to do one better: who fell in love with her dead best friend?

Lydia tried not to remember those troubling feelings; she'd been burying them for so long it was almost natural. When she and Tony had dated, she'd tried to substitute him for Beetlejuice, but it hadn't worked.

But now, with Benjamin, she didn't feel like he was a substitute; she didn't feel like she was pretending. She didn't even feel strange for feeling the first buds of affection flow out towards him, this stranger whom she felt she'd known her entire life.

That was odd, now that she thought about it. What were the odds of meeting a stranger who listened this well? What was wrong with trying? Tony was gone; she'd never truly loved him either. She'd never see Beetlejuice again…why shouldn't she? She had nothing to lose, so why shouldn't she take the chance while she could?

"Benjamin?" she said softly.

He turned around, movie in hand, and before Lydia could think twice about what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed him.

It was brief, not even a full five seconds, and ended abruptly when the tape slid out of Benjamin's hands and clattered to the floor.

"The movie!" Lydia said, but Benjamin grabbed her shoulder and pulled her into a second kiss.

The moment seemed to stretch on, but neither of them noticed. Twining his fingers through her hair, he forgot who he was; his mind could only focus on her warm lips, her thin body pressed against him. Their lips parted slowly; neither wanted to move away.

"Babes…" he murmured as he rested his head on top of hers.

Lydia froze against him.

"What did you say?"

Beetlejuice instantly realized his mistake, but it was too late. Realization was already dawning in Lydia's eyes.

"B-Beetle—?"

He ran before she could finish his name. He was out the door and halfway down the first flight of stairs before he heard her starting down after him.

"Wait!" she cried, but he would not stop. He flew down the remaining flights of stairs, pausing long enough to hear Lydia running after him, and redoubled his speed as he ran out of the building.

Even at two in the morning, the streets of New York were busy, and Beetlejuice had to stop on the sidewalk, unable to cross the street. Lydia ran out of the building, frantically looking for him. He would have to cross.

After a cab sped by him, he quickly looked both ways and ran across the street.

Lydia again called to him; he couldn't hear what she said, but when he reached the other side, he looked back at her.

She didn't stop at the sidewalk. She didn't look before she crossed.

"Wait, Beetleju—"

There was no way the truck could have stopped in time, and as Beetlejuice watched through borrowed eyes, Lydia was crushed underneath its tires.

"LYDIA!"

The truck had stopped; the driver was already getting out, tears forming in his eyes.

"I didn't see her! I didn't see her until it was too late! She just ran out in front of me!"

Other cars stopped behind; horns blasted as those too far away from the accident tried to figure out what was causing the hold up. Cell phones whipped out; several calls to 9-1-1 were made.

Beetlejuice rushed to her side; already he could hear sirens wailing in the distance.

"Lydia?" He grabbed her hand.

"Beetlejuice?" Lydia's voice sounded so faint. She was struggling to breathe.

"Oh, no…Lyds," he said. He was kneeling in a pool of her blood.

"I knew…it was…you," she gasped. "Beetlejuice…I'm…sor…ry."

"Lydia…" He was fighting back tears now. "I'm sorry too."

She was halfway to a smile when her face froze forever, and Beetlejuice knew that the flashing lights signaling the arrival of ambulances were meaningless now. It was too late. She was gone.

He didn't mean to lose control then, but as he raised his voice to scream, he found himself forcefully torn from his borrowed body and back in his familiar dead one. He was back in the Neitherworld, and there was nothing left for him to do but mourn the death of the only living person he'd ever truly loved.