pass through a door and yet you can sit on things and not fall through the floor when you walk.”
“I don’t really know either.” Logan shrugged. He crossed his legs. “Maybe it’s all just perception and self-will. If I stop believing I’m a human who has to follow basic rules, it’ll probably all fall apart for me.”
We were both quiet for a few seconds.
“But you’re not a human; that’s the problem. I think you need to go home. Or to the other side, or to wherever dead people need to go.”
Logan looked down at my hand, which was grasping the edge of the metal tightly.
He wasn’t going to do what I thought he was going to do, was he?
Logan lowered his finger towards the top of my hand.
I pulled away, but unfortunately not in time.
“Oh! How cold are you?”
It felt like my hand had just passed through the air inside a freezer. I breathed on it to warm it back up.
“That’s the thing, Amy. You keep referring to me as a ghost. What if I’m not?”
“Um, no one else apart from me can see you, you can pass through solid objects and I’m pretty sure I released your spirit from the locket when I opened it. Logan, I’m sorry to have to say it, but you’re a ghost.”
“What if I’m a hologram message, like in Star Wars , sent from the past into the future?” Logan jumped off the edge of the trough and started pacing the bathroom floor. “That would explain everything!”
“Logan,” I said, wrinkling my forehead, “we have Skype, but we don’t live in some weird science fiction galaxy, okay? Look, I know who can help you.”
“You’re not planning to bust a move are you?”
“Yes. I am planning to ‘bust a move.’ Now excuse me,” I said sternly, sounding like Mum. I walked around Logan to get to the door. I still didn’t have the nerve to walk through him. It would be cold. And it would also be rude, wouldn’t it?
I stepped back out into the library. I heard “Woah, psyched out,” behind me as Logan passed out through the door.
“Seeya boys,” I said in the most confident voice I could muster, as I walked quickly past the naughty table.
This same confidence didn’t apply with Mrs Marshall. I waited until she turned her back to me and went to the pile of new books that had to be laminated. Then I sneaked towards the door.
“What are you doing this weekend?” asked Logan as he casually strolled after me. “Once I’m home, I reckon I’m going to take Stacey on a date this Saturday to the rollerskating rink.”
“None of your business,” I replied loudly.
“I think it is, Miss Amy Lee,” replied Mrs Marshall as she turned to me with a shocked expression. “Where do you think you’re going?”
To have a cigarette? To get a snack from the vending machine? To, as the olds like to say, catch a breath of fresh air?
I stared at Mrs Marshall, my hand on the big metal door, frozen like a rabbit in the headlights.
I could handle this like an adult. I was just going to coolly and calmly walk out.
And I did this by hiking my schoolbag up on my shoulder, throwing the door open and making a bolt for it. I raced across the quadrangle, past the canteen, past the oval and didn’t stop until I reached the footpath.
“Amy, Amy, Amy,” said Logan, suddenly appearing by me. “Like Frankie Goes to Hollywood would say – relax .”
“But I can’t,” I whimpered. I held my hands in front of me and realised that they were shaking.
“I’m just messin’ about. They also had sarcasm in 1988, in case you didn’t know.” Logan grinned. “So, where’re we busting off to?”
“I’m taking you to my mum,” I said. “And she’s going to help me ghostbuster you back where you came from.”
“What makes you think your mum is going to believe you?” said Logan, a confident smile spreading across his face that I didn’t find attractive at all. Or so said my brain to my girl hormones.
“My mum is different from other mums, okay?” I replied.
And didn’t I know
“I don’t really know either.” Logan shrugged. He crossed his legs. “Maybe it’s all just perception and self-will. If I stop believing I’m a human who has to follow basic rules, it’ll probably all fall apart for me.”
We were both quiet for a few seconds.
“But you’re not a human; that’s the problem. I think you need to go home. Or to the other side, or to wherever dead people need to go.”
Logan looked down at my hand, which was grasping the edge of the metal tightly.
He wasn’t going to do what I thought he was going to do, was he?
Logan lowered his finger towards the top of my hand.
I pulled away, but unfortunately not in time.
“Oh! How cold are you?”
It felt like my hand had just passed through the air inside a freezer. I breathed on it to warm it back up.
“That’s the thing, Amy. You keep referring to me as a ghost. What if I’m not?”
“Um, no one else apart from me can see you, you can pass through solid objects and I’m pretty sure I released your spirit from the locket when I opened it. Logan, I’m sorry to have to say it, but you’re a ghost.”
“What if I’m a hologram message, like in Star Wars , sent from the past into the future?” Logan jumped off the edge of the trough and started pacing the bathroom floor. “That would explain everything!”
“Logan,” I said, wrinkling my forehead, “we have Skype, but we don’t live in some weird science fiction galaxy, okay? Look, I know who can help you.”
“You’re not planning to bust a move are you?”
“Yes. I am planning to ‘bust a move.’ Now excuse me,” I said sternly, sounding like Mum. I walked around Logan to get to the door. I still didn’t have the nerve to walk through him. It would be cold. And it would also be rude, wouldn’t it?
I stepped back out into the library. I heard “Woah, psyched out,” behind me as Logan passed out through the door.
“Seeya boys,” I said in the most confident voice I could muster, as I walked quickly past the naughty table.
This same confidence didn’t apply with Mrs Marshall. I waited until she turned her back to me and went to the pile of new books that had to be laminated. Then I sneaked towards the door.
“What are you doing this weekend?” asked Logan as he casually strolled after me. “Once I’m home, I reckon I’m going to take Stacey on a date this Saturday to the rollerskating rink.”
“None of your business,” I replied loudly.
“I think it is, Miss Amy Lee,” replied Mrs Marshall as she turned to me with a shocked expression. “Where do you think you’re going?”
To have a cigarette? To get a snack from the vending machine? To, as the olds like to say, catch a breath of fresh air?
I stared at Mrs Marshall, my hand on the big metal door, frozen like a rabbit in the headlights.
I could handle this like an adult. I was just going to coolly and calmly walk out.
And I did this by hiking my schoolbag up on my shoulder, throwing the door open and making a bolt for it. I raced across the quadrangle, past the canteen, past the oval and didn’t stop until I reached the footpath.
“Amy, Amy, Amy,” said Logan, suddenly appearing by me. “Like Frankie Goes to Hollywood would say – relax .”
“But I can’t,” I whimpered. I held my hands in front of me and realised that they were shaking.
“I’m just messin’ about. They also had sarcasm in 1988, in case you didn’t know.” Logan grinned. “So, where’re we busting off to?”
“I’m taking you to my mum,” I said. “And she’s going to help me ghostbuster you back where you came from.”
“What makes you think your mum is going to believe you?” said Logan, a confident smile spreading across his face that I didn’t find attractive at all. Or so said my brain to my girl hormones.
“My mum is different from other mums, okay?” I replied.
And didn’t I know
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