Haunting

Chapter 1

        He looked at me today.

        Well, okay, he looked through me today. But it was easy to pretend for a moment that his beautiful amber eyes were locked on mine. That his smooth smile and friendly wave were for me alone. Easy, that is, until he walked through me.

        I watched him as he caught up with one of his friends, discussing their plans for the weekend. He's been slowly getting back out into the world and letting go of his pain. Pain I inadvertently caused.

        I don't remember much about what happened. I remember walking home from school. It was a warm September afternoon, not a cloud in the sky. I'd made plans to hang out with him that night and was trying to plan my wardrobe options as I rounded the corner. I vaguely remember hearing the screech of tires, the blare of a horn, a brief, intense pain. Then...nothing.

        I wandered around for about a day before the light found me. Who knows? Maybe I would have actually gone to it if I hadn't seen him at the exact same time. His sand colored hair disheveled more than usual, his eyes red. In that moment I turned away from the light, from whatever sort of peace might lay beyond, and followed him.

        At first I thought I would only linger long enough to know he was coping, but now that I've found evidence he is I still can't bring myself to leave. I need to remain close. The thought of leaving is unbearable.

        "Dev, you going to the club tonight?"

        He gives his friend a half smile. "I don't know, man. Maybe."

        "Hey, it's cool. No worries. Invitation is open if you feel up to it. The guys and I miss seeing you up there."

        "I'll think about it," he says, shifting the strap of his backpack. "See ya."

        I trail behind him, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders as he sighs. I want to tell him it's all right, that going out with his buddies is a good thing. Far better than sitting in his room all night with his headphones on listening to the playlist I made him. I hated seeing that, seeing the grief so clear on his face. These last weeks there's been so much I want to tell him. So much I need to tell him. Here I have no voice, though, and even if I did I know he would never hear me.

        As he climbs into his black truck, I see the glint of silver around his neck. He's still wearing the necklace I gave him. He hasn't take it off since that day. The intricate black-and-silver cross is normally hidden beneath the collar of his shirt.

        A small smile tugs at my lips as I recall the day I gave him the necklace. Our two year anniversary had been the day before and we were out celebrating not only that but also his birthday. He'd just finished his fifth slice of pizza while I was still on my third. Usually I could keep up with him slice for slice but that day I was distracted.

        "All right, spill," he said, tossing his crust onto his plate. "You've been out of it almost all day, Averi. So, give. What's up?"

        I'd shifted slightly, no doubt appearing uncomfortable to him. In truth I was simply digging the small box out of my pocket. "Here."

        His brows quirked up, a smirk crossing his features. "Are you about to propose to me, Averi? How very progressive of you."

        "Shut up, you jerk." I couldn't hold back my laugh, though. "Just open it."

        He flipped the lid off the box, his smirk melting into something akin to awe. "Babe, this is..."

        Heat flooded my cheeks as I cast my gaze down. "Don't make a big deal about it. It's nothing major."

        His hands covered mine, squeezing lightly. When I looked up I saw the necklace hanging from his neck, the cross barely visible past the open collar of his dark grey button up. It didn't look as good on him as I'd imagined; it looked better. So much better.

        "I love it, Averi," he said softly. "I love you."

        "I love you, too, Dev."

        I study his profile from the passenger seat, my arm stretching out to touch his cheek. I stop myself with my fingers less than half an inch from his skin. I've tried touching many things since I ended up here. My hand has always passed straight through, leaving me absolutely no sensation. To touch him and not feel anything... I just can't imagine that.

        He pulls into the parking lot at his apartment complex. He left home the moment he could, tired of dealing with his drunkard stepfather and absent mother. His job at the hardware store paid well enough. And there was always the money his father's parents had sent him over the years, money he'd hidden away.

        I follow him inside, trying to ignore the stab of grief when he closes the door on me. It doesn't matter that I simply phase through it. He drops his keys on the counter, letting his backpack slide off his shoulder to the floor. He trudges into the kitchen and grabs a bottle of Pepsi from the fridge.

        I move out of his way as he starts down the hall, careful to keep far enough away that he can't brush against me. I know where he's going and my chest tightens. It's odd, really, that I can recall the feelings that accompany certain emotions. Odder still that I can even experience emotions.

        We reach his room and I nearly leave him be. It's like this every day. I'd lived with my aunt after my parents passed. When Dev had gotten this apartment, I'd started spending more and more time over here. Eventually I'd just started keeping most of my things here. We planned for me to officially move in after graduation.

        He passes a hand across the dresser drawers I know hold my clothes. He hasn't tossed them out. It's as if he almost expects me to come back someday, like I'm merely on vacation or something. He sits on the edge of his bed, a tired smile crossing those perfect lips as he glances at the picture frame on his bedside table. The photo it holds is one he took of me.

        We were at the park one day, both swinging and talking about everything. Suddenly he stood and moved back, holding up his camera. "Smile," he said as he snapped the picture. His timing had been perfect; I was on an upswing, my head tossed back, black hair flowing behind me, and the brightest smile on my face.

        "Hey, Averi," he says. "We had a quiz in physics today. Pretty sure I failed."

        I want to walk out of the room. I followed him around all day; I already know everything he's going to tell me. But I can't bring myself to do it. He has no way of knowing I'm actually here, that he's actually talking to me. He just needs to feel the connection. Walking away would feel like stealing that from him.

        "Trent wants me to go to the club tonight but I don't know if I'll go. I haven't been there since..." He trails off, voice tight. "It'll be strange being there without you."

        I want to tell him he won't be without me, that he'll never be without me.