joining me in the bathroom? I found myself searching under the sink, behind the toilet, and inside the tub, but he was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t taking any chances. I showered in my pajamas. It was awkward to say the least, but knowing he could pop in on me anywhere gave me the shivers.
I grabbed a dry towel and did that silly dance you do at the beach when your mom holds a towel around you so you can climb out of your wet bathing suit. It was distinctly harder holding the towel with my teeth and rolling off wet pajamas. I threw on my dry clothes and dropped my wet pajamas over the towel rack. The hall was dimly lit. I looked both ways as if crossing the street. No ghost.
Apparently, I had not seen him in the bathroom or the hall because he was perched on the windowsill of my room flipping through my magazine. The pages were moving without him touching them. He did not look up as I entered. For an apparition, he had a fantastic head of dark, curly hair.
“I am too much of a gentleman to watch you in the shower,” he said.
“How should I know that? After all, I woke up with you breathing over me this morning.”
He laughed. Who knew dead people still had a funny bone? “I’m rather certain that I was not breathing on you.”
“Well, you were hovering anyway.” I grabbed a pair of earrings. “And how do you know that I was worried about you watching me?” My eyes widened as I glanced at him. “Unless, of course, you were watching me?”
“Let’s just say you are a girl with a lot of expression. It is easy to read your thoughts.”
“Great.” I leaned toward my mirror and pushed my earrings through my lobes with trembling fingers, wondering how long my incorporeal house guest would be sticking around this morning. I glanced over without turning my head.
The magazine rose in the air and turned sideways and Sebastian leaned his head as if he was looking at a centerfold. “Girls are ridiculously skinny these days. Rather like holding a skeleton, I imagine.”
“My family thinks I’m crazy.” I turned to face him. “Actually, I’m pretty sure they’re right. And now I’m talking to you like we’re old acquaintances.” Had I been that desperate for a confidante that I’d invented a friend? But what girl in her right mind would conjure up a sweet-looking guy from the nineteenth century who was obsessed with another girl. Even though I had little doubt I was in my right mind at all, I was still convinced that my imaginary guy friend would have the hots for me and not someone else. “You still haven’t told me what you want from me?”
“It has to do with my letters.” He floated up and the magazine dropped to the floor. He was tall for a dead guy.
I scooted a wide berth around him to the window seat where my shoes sat. “Listen, I can help you rewrite your letters, but something tells me this Emily chick is not going to be around to read them.”
A huge rush of cold air blew across the room and pushed me hard onto the window seat. “What the fuck!” I glared up at him. “What was that for?” My voice got shaky at the end of my question when I saw that his eyes were round and black with anger. I inched back further on the seat.
“How could you possibly improve my letters with your ridiculous utterances like holy crap and what the fuck? And of course my dear Emily is gone. She would be more than a century old.” The fury in his voice sent a nervous tremor through me, and I wondered if I could slip past him to the door.
My fingers clutched the edge of the window seat nervously. “If Emily is dead then why don’t you find her?”
“Of course, you are right. Why did that not occur to me? I’ll just leave and go find my dear Emily.” He headed toward the window. I jumped out of the way. “Oh yes, I just remembered,” he floated closer and glowered down at me, “I’m stuck here … with you,” he added harshly.
Now I was pissed. “Look, this is not exactly a picnic for me
I grabbed a dry towel and did that silly dance you do at the beach when your mom holds a towel around you so you can climb out of your wet bathing suit. It was distinctly harder holding the towel with my teeth and rolling off wet pajamas. I threw on my dry clothes and dropped my wet pajamas over the towel rack. The hall was dimly lit. I looked both ways as if crossing the street. No ghost.
Apparently, I had not seen him in the bathroom or the hall because he was perched on the windowsill of my room flipping through my magazine. The pages were moving without him touching them. He did not look up as I entered. For an apparition, he had a fantastic head of dark, curly hair.
“I am too much of a gentleman to watch you in the shower,” he said.
“How should I know that? After all, I woke up with you breathing over me this morning.”
He laughed. Who knew dead people still had a funny bone? “I’m rather certain that I was not breathing on you.”
“Well, you were hovering anyway.” I grabbed a pair of earrings. “And how do you know that I was worried about you watching me?” My eyes widened as I glanced at him. “Unless, of course, you were watching me?”
“Let’s just say you are a girl with a lot of expression. It is easy to read your thoughts.”
“Great.” I leaned toward my mirror and pushed my earrings through my lobes with trembling fingers, wondering how long my incorporeal house guest would be sticking around this morning. I glanced over without turning my head.
The magazine rose in the air and turned sideways and Sebastian leaned his head as if he was looking at a centerfold. “Girls are ridiculously skinny these days. Rather like holding a skeleton, I imagine.”
“My family thinks I’m crazy.” I turned to face him. “Actually, I’m pretty sure they’re right. And now I’m talking to you like we’re old acquaintances.” Had I been that desperate for a confidante that I’d invented a friend? But what girl in her right mind would conjure up a sweet-looking guy from the nineteenth century who was obsessed with another girl. Even though I had little doubt I was in my right mind at all, I was still convinced that my imaginary guy friend would have the hots for me and not someone else. “You still haven’t told me what you want from me?”
“It has to do with my letters.” He floated up and the magazine dropped to the floor. He was tall for a dead guy.
I scooted a wide berth around him to the window seat where my shoes sat. “Listen, I can help you rewrite your letters, but something tells me this Emily chick is not going to be around to read them.”
A huge rush of cold air blew across the room and pushed me hard onto the window seat. “What the fuck!” I glared up at him. “What was that for?” My voice got shaky at the end of my question when I saw that his eyes were round and black with anger. I inched back further on the seat.
“How could you possibly improve my letters with your ridiculous utterances like holy crap and what the fuck? And of course my dear Emily is gone. She would be more than a century old.” The fury in his voice sent a nervous tremor through me, and I wondered if I could slip past him to the door.
My fingers clutched the edge of the window seat nervously. “If Emily is dead then why don’t you find her?”
“Of course, you are right. Why did that not occur to me? I’ll just leave and go find my dear Emily.” He headed toward the window. I jumped out of the way. “Oh yes, I just remembered,” he floated closer and glowered down at me, “I’m stuck here … with you,” he added harshly.
Now I was pissed. “Look, this is not exactly a picnic for me
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