Michael's Ghost Girl

The New Girl

When they got there, a lone skater was on the course, skating more cautiously than a guy might, doing less showy jumps and flips, but wasn't bad. The three friends watched until Short Round spoke.

"Hey, female on the course, and she's looking good. Hands off guys, she's mine!"

Short Round was right. A girl was skating on the course, someone not from their neighborhood. She wasn't very tall and wore wide leg jeans cut to the middle of her calf. Her short hair was jet black and she'd wound a red scarf around it. Tucked into the jeans an old, black, t-shirt was held in place by a studded leather belt. She wore heavy eye makeup and red lipstick, but it seemed to suit her. Her hair was most likely dyed, but overall she presented a very fetching picture.

On the last part of the course, she jumped off her skateboard, then carefully grasped its edges and did a handstand that she held until she'd traveled to the end. It was an old trick, a 'sixties trick that hardly anyone did anymore, but she made it look good. She dismounted from her skateboard with the grace of a gymnast, and only then did she acknowledge their presence.

The three boys applauded their approval. "Nice handstand," said Michael, and meant it. They weren't good for speed, and were an easy trick, but still required skill to pull off.

"Oh yeah?" She grinned at him, "You any good with that?" She pointed to his skateboard.

This was not what Short Round had envisioned. It looked to him like Mikey and the girl were making eyes at each other. Mike was being more friendly to her than he was to other girls lately. His only chance now was to praise Mike and hope that friendship and loyalty would impress her.

"I'll have you know our boy here has won several competitions and has sponsors competing for him to represent them." Short Round hoped he wasn't overdoing it, but he couldn't stop now. "He even overcame a..."

"Short Round, cool it. I'm not Tony Hawk." He turned back to the girl, "I'm Mike, we call my over enthusiastic supporter Short Round, and the strong silent one is Dewey. We've never seen you here before—did you just move here"

"Uh, hi, and nice to meet you, too. I'm Thea. We just moved here from New Jersey. My dad's firm is setting up a branch of his biotech firm here, and he's overseeing it. I just found out about this sk­ate park, I didn't know if this city would have one, but I found out about ­­­­this one on the Internet. My brothers had to work today, otherwise they'd be here with me."

"You want to get some lunch?" Dewey jumped in. "There's a burger stand two blocks from here, and once you taste their burgers, you'll never eat at McDonald's again."

She smiled at Dewey before beaming a radiant smile at Michael. "Hey, I miss the Italian food in New Jersey. And the pizza, oh god I miss the pizza. But if the burgers are as good as you say, I'll buy!"

Short Round didn't know if he should feel jealous or relieved. For once, Mike seemed to notice the presence of a real girl—and a cutie at that. If he was Mike, he'd forget all about his ghost girlfriend and settle for the real thing. This girl was real, looked damn good, and even better, she was good on a skateboard. What more could a guy ask? When was Mike going to get a clue and get the damn ghost out of his life? Maybe this would be what it took—a girl who liked the same things he did, and a taste of what the real world was like.

Walking the two blocks to the burger stand, they stocked up on fries, burgers, and cokes. They took their food back to the skate park and sat on the bench, and like the ravenous teens they were, devoured their food.

It took Michael a while to realize that Thea was flirting with him, teasing him about his competing, and admitting that she had seen him in a competition. It made him feel simultaneously good and uncomfortable. Thea was a very pretty girl, but he since he'd wrapped his life so tightly around Mariah, he'd forgotten what a living girl was like. Yet here was one flirting with him. Her dark brown eyes had a way of staring straight into his, as if she were trying to look into him and see what thoughts he had hidden deep in his soul.