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“You again.” I start, keeping my voice low. “What do you want? Also, did you do this?” I wave at the window, trying to encompass the whole dead people predicament. “Because, respectfully, I’d like the gift receipt.”
Surprise, surprise, the ghost doesn’t answer. She just stares at me, wide-eyed, giving no indication she understands my questions.
I try to contain my sigh of frustration. “Did you warn me the last time because I was going to be hit by the driver?”
At this, ghost girl gives a small smile.
Yes! Houston, we have made contact!
“But why? Who am I to you?” Not to say I’m not grateful, but I’mdyingfor answers.
Ghost girl averts her eyes and gives a slight shake of her head.
I purse my lips.
Ghost girl won’t talk, but she answers yes or no questions. I can work with that. “Okay, but you’re here now. Are you here to warn me again?”
Her eyes snap back to me. She nods before pointing to my phone and vehemently shaking her head.
“My phone? Is it going to blow up?” I warily push it away with my toe.
Ghost girl looks back at me with a look that says, ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ before shaking her head and pointing at my phone again, this time with more insistence.
Following her lead, I gingerly pick it up, unlocking the screen to see my texts with Em.
Em - Okay so we’re picking you up at 7 tonight.
Vivvvvv, Jackson wants to know if you’ll be
ready for 7.
VIV! You’d better be ignoring me because you’re
getting hot for prom.
I look back at the ghost. She keeps pointing to the screen and shaking her head. “The dance? I shouldn’t go to prom?”
Ghost girl shakes her head, looking irritated that I’m not understanding. She points at my phone again.
I’ve always sucked at charades.
“Okay. Not the dance, then. My ride? Is something going to happen on the drive?”
Bingo.
Ghost girl looks like she might start jumping up and down as she nods. She points at the screen again before crossing her hands in repeated ‘X’ symbols as if to say, ‘No driving – absolutely not.’
“Okay, no driving then,” I answer, trying to appease her. She looks agitated, and I’m not keen on being on the receiving end of a ghost’s frustration. That just sounds like a recipe for a poltergeist.
I’ll pass.
Ghost girl looks satisfied with my statement. She nods her head at me once more before disappearing.
My shoulders sag, relieved that she’s finally gone.
Alone again, I consider her message.
The school is only a short drive from my house. And Em lives just a few blocks away. What harm could come from such a short drive?
