When people say studying is easy, they are lying liars who lie.
English never did anything for anyone! No one cares about the symbolism! Go suck on a lollipop if you want to talk about how "they mentioned once in chapter 15, line 65 about how they own a blue phone case, that must mean that they have DepReSSIoN."
Anyone with half a brain cell knows depression Does Not Work Like That! A blue thing is a blue thing! The sky is blue, but I don't see teachers falling all over themselves when a character so much as dares to mention it. Not everything has to be deep!
Don't even get me started on math! I don't want to find x! No one wants to find x! Exes are bad enough already; we don't need x's souring things even more!
Frustrated, I slammed the textbook down onto the table. Who cares if it's a library! I will be as loud as I want with this stuff. No one deserves to be tortured by this!
Who cares! Anything was better than torturous math. I would do something else. Even if I had to bike home in this weather.
"X is 28," someone whispered, and I may or may not have jumped hard enough to smack my knees on the table and squeal like a little kid. Nope. That's not a thing that would ever happen to an upstanding member of society like me. Not a fearless person like me!
I knew there wasn't anyone but me and the librarian here, everyone else had already gone home. I looked around and there was no one there, exactly as it had been mere minutes before.
Great! I was jumping at ghosts.
"Alrighty then… back to suffering…" I murmured to myself, picking the book back up and trying my best to concentrate.
I had an hour left. Just had to survive this boredom until five-thirty. I had nothing better to do but study and I hated it. Better than trying to do this at home!
I could see the librarian Mrs Vera half asleep on her computer in the corner and I felt sort of sorry for her. It would be a lot more comfortable to sleep on a bed, a sofa, literally anything else because I would hate to know what pins and needles feel like on your face.
Okay, back down to business.
~Let's get down to business, to defeat, BUMP BUMP, the HUNS! ~
Ah, Mulan, you never fail me...
"Seriously, it's 28," the voice said and this time I didn't jump again. Whoever told you that was lying.
"And why should I trust you, mysterious voice?" I demanded, putting my book back down again.
The voice sighed and a moment later there was a boy in front of me. I blinked a few times and looked around before looking back at him.
He was wearing a worn blue hoodie and sweatpants as if he was purposefully walking around wearing a neon sign of 'I'm tired!'. He had curly, short brown hair and the most adorable freckles all over his face. I wanted to pinch his cheeks!
"I swear you weren't there a moment ago," I said slowly. Maybe I had just been too invested in my homework? Yep, surely that was why I hadn't noticed him.
"I wasn't there a moment ago," the kid confirmed as he disappeared from plain sight. He vanished! But… then he was back in front of me after he finished talking?
My jaw fell to the floor.
"I'm seeing things, aren't I," I managed to get out, voice faint.
The ghost kid sighed, and he disappeared again. "No, you aren't. Unfortunately." When he came back he was staring down at his feet, shuffling them absently.
"… So, I am seeing a ghost? Wait! Are you that school ghost I've heard like one person talk about?!" I exclaimed, standing up.
I had moved here a couple weeks ago, and I had heard a few people mention a ghost, about how it was haunting the school.
Ok, so when I said "a few" I meant one. And it had only been in passing. I mean, who wouldn't eavesdrop when someone says 'ghost?' It could be an actual ghost or someone ghosting someone online and drama was oh so deliciously juicy!
I had never expected it to be true!
Instead of speaking to answer me, he nodded, looking sort of… resigned?
A ghost! An actual ghost! They were real! I was meeting a ghost!
"Well, nice to meet you! I'm Wade," I said, reaching out to shake his hand.
His face fell, and it took a moment for me to realize that maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to ask a ghost to shake hands. I awkwardly retracted my hand, wincing. Right. The poor thing probably hadn't been able to touch anything for years.
So that meant no hugs... That's gotta suck.
Well, I never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed. More like a shovel. Round. Still useful! But round.
"… I'm Peter," Ghost kid- Peter replied after an awkward pause, smiling softly.
Oh no, he's cute.
"So, what's a ghost like you doing around a place like this?" I asked, leaning back with a huge grin all over my face. Peter rolled his eyes and folded his arms though he still looked relaxed. My grin only widened.
This was the most interesting thing that had happened since… since I had no idea when! Homework could wait. I had a cute ghost to flirt with!
Peter's smile grew, "Haunting, making people shiver, you know, the usual."
"Sounds like fun. Oh, you must know all the best places to hang out around school!" I exclaimed. Mrs Vera snored loudly, interrupting us, and we both stopped to stare in her direction.
"She won't wake up, trust me," Peter whispered, a fond smile on his face.
"She was here when you were alive?" I queered, tilting my head to the side.
He nodded, turning back to look at me. "I haven't been dead too long… I think. What year is it?"
"Twenty nineteen," I answered, frowning. Did he not know what year it was? How long ago had he died if he doesn't know…?
"So… it's been eight years. That feels weird to think about. I would be twenty-five if I hadn't died..." he said, flickering and reappearing a couple meters away.
"Did… did you pace? I couldn't tell because you vanished and all that." I chuckled.
His cheeks went red, "Yeah? Nervous habit, sorry. I know the vanishing stuff is weird, can't help it."
I leaned back in my seat. "Do you know why it happens?"
"No idea. It's more annoying than anything, I guess."
"But wait, aren't you more… I don't know, sad that you're dead?" I asked quietly, leaning forward.
His smile fell. "Time flows different for me, it feels like no time has passed and like it's been centuries at the same time. I've… come to terms with it? It's fine." That was definitely a voice crack. His voice cracked! I felt even worse for asking now. I didn't want to make him cry!
Before I could try to comfort him or something, his eyes had already strayed over to my discarded books. "Do you want help with those?"
"Don't see why not, but gotta warn you; I am terrible at school work. Period. You will get frustrated with me," I warned him.
He grinned even wider. "I have little to do besides help kids with school work. Trust me you'll be better than some other kids I've helped."
I leaned forward, hands supporting my head. "That sounds like a challenge."
"Prepare to have a ghost whispering in your ear, all day every day, until you graduate from this school. This'll be fun!" He continued as if I had said nothing at all.
For as exciting as it was to meet a ghost, my life didn't change much after our first meeting. I was still a loner, still hung out at the library and still had lunch with Bob. Bob was great. I could play as many pranks as I wanted on him and not get in trouble.
The only major difference was how my math grades shot through the roof. I was doing well for the first time in, well, forever!
Oh, and I looked insane as I talked to him because it turns out not everyone could see him. So it looked like I was talking to thin air. Luckily for me, I was used to being stared at! I had only seen one other person's eyes bug out when I walked down the corridor with Peter in tow.
Peter even waved to the poor kid as he floated in mid-air, like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
"How do I solve this one again?" I whispered in my maths test, thankfully getting no weird looks from other classmates.
"You've got to take from both sides, remember?" Peter whispered back, even though I knew by now that no one else could hear him.
I nodded, just so Peter knew I understood and continued trying to solve it. Satisfied for the moment, he floated around the room to see what everyone else was doing.
A moment later, I had to stifle a snicker as Peter loudly proclaimed, "The answer is two! How on earth did you get three hundred and eighty-nine?!"
"So, you always hang out at the library after school?" Peter asked, floating on the table like he was lying on it. Honestly, I would do the same if I was him.
Though… I still wasn't used to him flickering like an old movie. Like the really old ones where they had to put the character's lines on a separate panel. But Peter didn't bring it up, so I didn't bring it up.
"It's easier to get work done here than at home. I would have thought a dork like you would do the same," I teased, stretching my arms over my head, barely holding back a yawn. I was looking forward to going home that was for sure. At this rate, I would bike home in the dark.
He chuckled, "You've got me there. Yeah, I loved hanging out here, lots of books to read, no one to judge me when I nerd out, people watching... I mean, what's there not to love?"
"I bet that you were at the top of your class, am I right?" I asked, leaning forward like I was sharing a secret with him.
He side eyed me, "And what if I was?"
"I was wondering if the whole 'smart enough to tutor even though I'm a ghost' was because you have seen assignments ten times already or because you were smart before you died!" I exclaimed.
He laughed, "Thanks, I guess? I was aiming for this one scholarship. Trying to get into Harvard and all that. I think I would have gotten it if I hadn't died."
Even though he was still smiling, his smile faltered for a moment and he was looking everywhere but me.
"What did you want to become?" I asked quietly. I had asked nothing about before… this was new territory. I didn't want him to hate me from asking.
"I wanted to be a nurse, maybe even a vet, anything like that really. My Aunt May was always really sick, and I wanted to help people like her," he explained quietly, fiddling with his fingers.
"I could see you doing that. You could do pretty much anything, instead, you're helping dumb kids like me get better grades," I said with a shrug.
It wasn't exactly a secret that I didn't do well. I tried! I really did! But I guess I just wasn't made for the American public school system...
He turned his head towards me and shrugged, "You're smarter than you think, you know. I've had to basically hold peoples pens before to get them to do well."
"Can you do that? Hold things?" I asked, excitement lighting up my eyes.
He laughed. It was super cute, his nose scrunching up, and I had to stop myself from swooning. "It takes a lot of energy. But sure, if you want to see it."
I went to protest; I didn't want him using up energy just for me! But before I had the chance, he had made his hand look opaquer and had the pen in his hand. He did it for a few seconds before going ghost again and letting it fall through his hand.
"Woah! That's so cool!" I exclaimed, shooting to my feet.
He ducked his head shyly, "It's not that big of a deal."
"It so is! Imagine if you could see a ghost and they showed you they can sort of be in the mortal realm!" I wanted to shake his shoulders to get sense into him, but I couldn't, obviously.
"Okay, okay, I get the point. Shouldn't we get back to your homework?" he asked, floating closer and over my books.
I shook my head, "No, it's okay. I'll do more work tomorrow."
He looked at me doubtfully, crossing his arms.
"I will! Promise! It's almost time for the library to close anyway," I explained, pointing at the clock hanging in the corner.
"Alright, alright, fine. I sometimes forget that normal people need to sleep," he said. "I'll go with you as far as I can."
"As far as you can? Are you confined to the school or something?" I asked, haphazardly throwing my notebooks into my bag as slowly as I could. If Peter asked, I totally wasn't stalling or anything. Nope. Not at all.
"I think so? I can go out as far as the end of the field, but I can't go past the office for some reason," he explained, fiddling with his hands again.
"That's… strange. So, you can't get to the economics wing?" I asked as I swung my bag on to my back.
"No, I have no idea why it's happening." He shrugged. He still was avoiding eye contact.
"Do you have a theory?" I asked after a moment's pause.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, but it's fine. I'm used to it. Don't worry about it."
"Don't worry about it? The school isn't all that big in the first place," I frowned, "Why won't you tell me?"
Peter paced, aggravated. I knew that maybe I had pushed him too far by asking, but I still continued to prod when he stayed silent. "Peter?"
"It's because I think it has something to do with where I'm buried..." his form flickering violently several seconds after he was done talking. He sighed heavily, "Just forget about it. I know I'm never leaving this place, okay? I'm fine."
"Why? What's stopping you from passing on?" I demanded, stepping closer to him.
His eyes darted around the place, refusing to look at me as I waited for an answer.
"I… I think someone murdered me…" His form flickered heavily before seemingly stabilizing. He sighed and went over to the edge of the table, sitting on it. "I don't know why I died, okay? I had everything ahead of me and then I died in the school. No one… I'm still considered a missing person."
He sniffed, wiping absently at his eyes. "I never had a funeral, I never got to give Aunt May closure. I don't even know if she's alive. I never got to say goodbye or tell her how much I loved her."
I stood there awkwardly; I wanted to hug him and try to comfort him, but we both knew I would just go through him. I didn't want to add insult to injury. But…
"What would happen…" I paused, grabbing his attention, "if I solved what happened to you?"
He shrugged, eyes darting to the side. "I don't know. Maybe I'll finally leave this hellhole." He huffed out a laugh. "Even if I am still a ghost, at least I'll be a ghost in a cemetery with others."
My hands tightened around my bag's straps. "Alright. Let's solve your murder."
His head shot up. "What? No. It- It probably wasn't even a murder. I just…" he flailed his arms around, I think he was trying to show him falling down the stairs? "I just-just tripped or something."
"If you had just 'tripped' you wouldn't be a missing person, would you? I will find out what happened to you, promise," I said, giving him the biggest smile I could. I could do this for him!
He nodded slowly, a small frown on his face like he didn't believe me. However, I could see the hesitant, but hopeful, glint in his eyes. Though I knew he'd deny it if I asked.
"Wade? What are you doing up this early?" Mrs Vera asked, sipping her coffee as she watched me come in. Her cool eighties jacket she always seemed to wear was crinkly but the bags under her eyes seemed to have shrunk from yesterday.
"Research for a friend," I explained, shuffling my feet over the carpet as I went over to her desk. "I was wondering if I could look at the yearbooks?"
She waved a hand around, "Yeah, of course. Do you need me to show you where it is?"
"Please. How are you doing this morning?" I asked, trying to be as polite as possible.
She raised an eyebrow, "I never took you for a morning person."
I smiled, "Not usually, but I really want to help this friend out."
As she led me over, she seemingly decided to not pester me with questions about what I was really doing. She probably understood that it was too early in the morning for anything but coffee, let alone an interrogation. "Alright, here you go. Need any more help?"
I gazed over the books, spotting plenty of books dating back until the school was first founded. "No, I think I've found what I'm looking for."
"Good to know. Just call me over if you need anything else." And with that, she walked back over to her desk. I noticed her pulling her phone (with a glitter case) out of her pocket. Perfect.
I slowly scanned over the books, trying to find the right one. Peter hadn't told me which year he died. He said eight years but maybe it was a year before or after that! So of course, I grabbed five years' worth of books and went over to my usual seat.
It took a bit of flicking through, and by a bit, I meant nearly an hour, but I did eventually find a kid named Peter who looked like mine!
Still as adorable… sigh…
"What are you doing?" Peter asked, floating up through the table. I squeaked in surprise and narrowly avoided bruising my knees against the table.
After catching my breath (and glaring at Peter for good measure), I explained, "I'm starting with you and your old classmates and working back from there."
"What? Working back? What do you mean?" he asked, floating over to get a proper look at the book.
"Your murder, you know, the thing keeping you from your happily ever after? I promised I would solve it, didn't I?"
"Oh, uh, right. You're making a suspects list?"
"That's exactly what I'm doing! It might take a bit of searching to find everyone, but I'll do it!" I proclaimed.
"I don't really think any of my classmates would have killed me. I had a couple bullies, but none of them would, y'know, kill me," he said.
"Well, even if it was all an accident it doesn't hurt, right?" If I was him, I would push for someone to solve it as fast as possible. But that was the thing, I wasn't, and he seemed to not want to… push me to do any of this. I didn't like that he was a pushover over all this.
"Sure, I guess. Thanks for doing this for me," he said.
"It's no problem. You deserve to have answers, you know?"
"Yeah. No one before you really wanted to help solve what happened," he huffed a laugh, "They usually wanted me for academic help."
I stared at him for a long moment, long enough for him to shift uncomfortably. "You mean to tell me, I'm the first one who ever thought, 'this cute ghost is probably stuck here'?"
His face went red, but he ignored it as he continued. "Yeah? I mean, it's fine. School work is tough and if I had someone to coach me all the time at school, I would have used them too," he said dismissively.
"No, you wouldn't have. I haven't known you all that long, but I know that you would have done exactly what I'm doing now," I protested, folding my arms.
He looked me between the eyes for a few moments before his eyes dropped to his hands. "… Thanks."
"That's what I thought," I affirmed, "So, who were these bullies?"
"What? They wouldn't have killed me," he said, frowning at me. I looked him up and down, he would not back down on this. Well... I guess I should take his word for it.
"Well, what's the last thing you remember doing?" I asked, changing the topic. For now.
"I was going down into the basement. Why?" he asked.
I frowned, leaning back in my seat, "Maybe someone pushed you?"
"I…" he glanced away, pausing before looking me in the eyes again, "maybe," he said, voice trailing off before he shrugged.
"And if they did, and you died, would they really fess up to that? Bullies are always cowards, I know that," I said.
"What do you mean by 'I know that'?" he asked, floating closer. "You have nothing to be bullied for."
"Have you really not noticed my burn scars this whole time? Kids will go for that… and…" I shifted uncomfortably, "look, you're changing the subject. Even if they pushed you as a joke, you should still get closure that that is what truly happened. I wouldn't want to be haunting a school for the rest of eternity!" I said, folding my arms.
"Alright… fine," he finally pointed to a few students in the yearbook. I couldn't circle them - it was a library book after all, but I wrote them down into a new notebook I had bought this morning.
"Was that so hard?"
Peter looked like he was about to say something, but he sighed and finally whispered, "…No."
"Trust me, I will find out what happened," giving him my best reassuring smile.
"I'll take your word for it."
I filled the next few days with researching his death, which turned out to be the seventh of February, and phone calls to all Peter's classmates. Everyone seemed to know he only had his Aunt May left, and that he was smart, and that running away seemed strange and unlikely.
Eventually, one person mentioned that the school had surveillance cameras and that that might help. Which was actually helpful.
Which is why I ended up sneaking into the back of the library after school while Mrs Vera was dead to the world. If they had stored the footage anywhere, it would be there.
"What are you doing? Why are you breaking into the back?" Peter asked, floating in front of me as if he could stop me.
"You'll see," I whispered, eyeing Mrs Vera and the desk, trying to find a key that would open the door.
"'You'll see?' That doesn't sound reassuring. Please don't do something illegal," he pleaded, trying to block my view and get my attention.
I stepped right through him, which made him squawk in protest. I finally found the keys in one of her drawers. I grabbed it tight, so it wouldn't jingle, and went over to the door.
"That's a lot of keys on that thing," Peter said as I went through them.
"I know right? This'll take ages," I tested the third key. No luck. I resisted the urge to sigh.
He hummed, hand going up to his chin as he seemed to think. "Let me have a look at them," he said, motioning for me to come closer.
"Sure," I said, holding the keys flat on my palm so he could get a better look at them. His eyes flicked over them and a moment later he pointed at one.
"That one, that'll get you in," he said.
"What? How did you know?" I asked, frowning.
"It says 'backroom' on the side," he pointed out, his smile turning smug.
Oh.
"Oh." Ignoring his chuckle, I put it in the lock, and sure enough, it opened for me. I pocketed the keys for now.
We walked in together and I immediately realised that it was a lot bigger than I thought it would be. It was about a classroom and a half in size.
"Do your ghostly powers also help you figure out where stuff is?" I asked in dismay.
"No, but my normal observational skills tell me that you'll find what you're looking for right there," he sang, pointing at a shelf filled with DVDs.
I bit my lip. Right. Yep. I should look over there. I walked over and began to scan over all the discs, slowly going back all the years until I found the date I was looking for. Eventually, I found the month and year I was looking for, February eight years ago.
Now for the date… wait. "Pete, I'm not being dumb, am I? The seventh of February is gone, right?"
He floated over, fingers hovering over the discs. "Yeah… it's gone."
It made no sense! Obviously, someone had taken it, probably the killer themselves. One step forward. But we're missing the clip and broke into the security office for nothing. Two steps back.
But not many people knew about the very existence of the cameras… another step forward.
Someone was guilty. I knew for sure that someone had been gunning for Peter and had covered it up.
But who? Everyone had given as much information as I wanted, even more in some cases. If they were guilty their story wouldn't have lined up with everyone else's.
Or at the very least, they probably would have hung up on me as soon as I asked.
So, who?
"Hey Peter, can you show me where your body is buried?" I asked, finally lifting my head up from my crossed arms. I had been slumped over the table, trying to figure out where I could go from here.
He floated in front of me, "I'm not completely certain where it is," he admitted.
"But you have an idea of where I would find it?"
He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I guess?"
"That's enough for me. Lead the way," I said, grabbing my stuff and hastily shoving it all into my bag.
He sighed but seemed to realise that I wasn't going to let up on this. He deserved to be happy, he deserved to have closure. And if I had to push him into being happy, I would!
He floated along, leading me to one door that I had never used before. No one used it anymore, but I had heard some kids calling it haunted. Well, maybe it was if Peter was bringing me here? He is a ghost after all.
"It was shut down a few years ago because they thought there were rats in the wall," Peter explained quietly, folding his arms and shifting nervously.
"Do you know how to get in?" I asked, maybe I wouldn't have to do anything overly illegal...
He shook his head, "I can get in, because I'm a ghost and all, but I don't know how you could get in."
"Ah, right. Okay. Well, luckily I know how to pick locks!" I grinned as I put my bag down to find my bobby pin I always kept for moments like this.
"I feel like I should be more worried that you know how to do that," Peter said, floating closer to watch what I was doing.
I shrugged, "It's great for when you want to break into places, like abandoned shopping malls, haunted houses…wait, that's offensive now, isn't it?"
He sat back and huffed out a laugh, "No, it's fine. Call places haunted. Honestly, I think most ghosts are pretty chill? Like, I have my conscious and everything. Spirits, however… wow, they are something."
I frowned as I finally found the bobby pin. "Spirits? Aren't you a spirit?"
"Technically, yes? What I've been able to work out is that there's a difference between a spirit and a ghost. Like, a ghost like me can have opinions and interact with the real world and be seen. But spirits can't, they are attached to an object or their body and they don't really have… changing opinions?"
"Changing opinions? What?" I puzzled, stopping for a moment from picking the lock to stare back at Peter.
He rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah? Like if a spirit is angry it has to be cleansed or something before it can stop giving people bad luck?"
"So, what you're saying is that if I'm suddenly getting bad luck after buying a necklace I should give it away?" I asked.
He nodded, "Pretty much."
"Huh, who knew?"
"I wouldn't have if I hadn't seen it first hand as a ghost," Peter said with a sheepish smile.
"You weren't much of a myth believer then, were you?" I said slowly, fitting another puzzle piece about him into place.
He grinned at that, "Nope! I was really into science. If someone told me that I would become a school-haunting ghost I would have called a mental institution on them."
I laughed, "I could see that."
As I went back to work on the lock, I couldn't help but feel a bubble of joy well up inside of me. Bob was great and all but being able to hang out with Peter and learn about what the afterlife might be like was a special kind of joy.
I would… I would miss him when I finally had to say goodbye.
"Aha!" I proclaimed as the door opened with a click.
"Good job! Be careful on the stairs, they might be, uh, unsafe," he warned.
"I'll be fine. These muscles can hold on to the handrail!"
"Yeah, the wood there is probably rotten too," he said, floating over to scrutinize them.
I paused, considering. "I'll be fine. It's not that long of a drop, anyway?"
"If it can kill me, it can kill you. Try not to die alright? I don't want to spend eternity with you," he said, floating down ahead of me.
"Hey! I heard that!" I called out after him, throwing my hands up in the air like I was actually offended. I heard Peter snicker, and I smiled.