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I grab my textbooks and laptop, shoving them into my schoolbag before heading out. The morning air is crisp, but the wind has died considerably since yesterday. As a result, the fog hangs around like a stagnant blanket. Droplets settle on my face, and I am grateful I didn’t bother with makeup.
I head towards the small coffee shop where I worked last summer. Even after spending far more money than I should have yesterday, I figure I deserve a coffee as a treat for not dying.
After all, you need to celebrate the little things.
The coffee shop is only three blocks from my apartment. It’s close enough to the ocean that I can take the boardwalk to the college afterward rather than doubling back.
Even though it’s still mostly dark outside, the sidewalks are well-lit, and the streetlights are still on. The closer to town I get, the more pungent the smell of saltwater is.
It’s not even half past six, but the town is already waking up. Fishermen in their trucks line up at the shop’s drive-through, eager to caffeinate before hitting the docks. I keep my head down as I pass them, pretending to be engrossed in something on my phone.
East coasters are friendly, and I’m not awake enough to chat about the weather with a stranger. It’s also a 50-50 split between getting pulled into conversation with a friendly, harmless older man or a creep.
Those aren’t odds I’m willing to play with.
The coffee shop holds a dozen or so small tables and comfortable faux-leather chairs of every colour. The walls are a light yellow and dotted with framed prints of local artwork. It feels cozy and warm. Sohanna, the barista on cash, lights up when she sees me come in.
“Vivian! What’s up, girl? I’ve missed your face ever since you went back to school. Also, I finished the book you recommended, and I cannot even. I’m going to the bookstore later today to buy the next one. I think I might have to say goodbye to my social life. Spicy romance novels are way more interesting,” She throws her hands into the air like she’s entirely at her wit’s end.
Sohanna likes dramatics, even at the crack of dawn.
I sympathize. “I wish I could say it gets better, but the second book is even better than the first. Sorry for feeding the new addiction,” I walk up to the counter, tucking away my phone now that I’m in a safe place.
Other than Sohanna and me, it’s empty in here.
“HAH!” Sohanna laughs. “You aren’t sorry, and you know it. Now we get to talk about books all the time when you come back to work next summer, and you know you’ll love it.”
I beam. “Actually, yes, that sounds wonderful. We can have a spicy barista book club.”
Sohanna laughs again. “Alright, deal. So, just your usual this morning?”
I nod and gratefully accept my cup of steaming coffee. Thanking Sohanna, I head to my favourite table by the shop’s front window.
I have some time to kill before my 8:30 AM class. Luckily, it isn’t busy, and I don’t think Sohanna will mind me loitering.
Fishing my laptop out of my bag, I’m careful not to wobble the table and spill my coffee. With my luck, I’ll fry my computer and have to buy a new one of those as well. I make a mental note to back up my work later – just in case.
I stare at my empty screen as I sip on my coffee. My back is to the wall, and anyone walking by would assume I’m engrossed in whatever I have open. But instead, I let my mind wander, trying to connect the dots between the paranormal activity I’ve experienced.
Ghost girl saved me twice and then tried to save me a third time. That at least makes a bit of sense. Someone is looking out for me.
It’s a bit unexpected, but I can rationalize it.
Whatever happened yesterday is throwing me a bit for a loop. Something pulled me underwater.
I think I was well on my way to drowning but didn’t get any danger warnings from ghost girl. So, maybe she hasn’t been keen on helping me since I blew her off four years ago. Or perhaps I wasn’t in danger. The burning in my lungs and panic at being dragged into the deep water certainly felt like danger.
Chills steadily make their way up my arms to the back of my neck. I take another sip of coffee and try to distract myself from the memory by looking outside.
The ghostly figure of a woman stands in front of the flower shop on the other side of the road. The ghost doesn’t look at me and disappears through the shop’s front door.
Right, I see dead people.
Dead people that want nothing to do with me.
My life makes no sense.
I grit my teeth together at the thought, agitated. Why did I randomly start seeing ghosts after my first escape from death? I didn’t come close to dying, and it isn’t like I can communicate with them.
