Goodbye, Evan

17

The boy who made me forsake connecting with all these kids was named James Lewis.

* Winter of 1987, his soul called to me after the school day had ended and I was sleeping atop the lockers. I found him hiding in a cupboard with his trousers unbuttoned, his tie

missing and his face covered in tears. The fact that somebody had done this to a child made me physically shake with anger but I managed to stay calm for his sake.

I fell to his age, which must've been about twelve or thirteen, and sat down opposite him. The cry of escape, escape, escape that pulled at my heart vanished although I could still feel the agony of his call in my chest. It was like nothing I had ever felt before.

"Hey," I said, my voice possessing the high pitch it had pre-break. "Hey, what's wrong?"

He scrambled away from me, his back pressed against the wall, and sobbed again.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise. Look. Will you look at this?"

I held my hand out to him - he flinched - and it caught in a patch of moonlight. The pale skin lit up like a crystal, a pattern of diamond that twisted down to my wrist before being lost in shadow.

"I'm a ghost," I said, quietly. "My name's Evan. I'm here to help you. What's wrong?"

The boy, having caught sight of my glittering skin, sat up slowly. He'd stopped crying but he looked no less terrified. "You're... you're a ghost?" I nodded and he sobbed again. "I... I swear it wasn't me! He... he made me, I promise I didn't want to, please don't take me to hell-" "Hey, hey, hey," I said softly, wanting to shuffle forward but keeping still in case I scared him. "Hey, I'm not going to take you to hell. I

know you did nothing wrong. I'm here to help you but you'll have to tell me what happened first." I smiled a little. "Take you're time. I promise you're safe. I... I swear on the Bible. What's your name?"

"James..." He sniffed, wiping his nose. "James Lewis."

"Pleasure to meet you, James Lewis. I'm Evan Adams." I held out my hand, and after a moment's hesitation he shook it. "Can you tell me what hurt you? Whatever it is, I can help you get rid of it. I promise."

His golden skin is pale as we prepare to get off the bus. His eyes are wide like a deer in headlights as he stares up at the school. And his hand, tapping against the top of his thigh as we walk towards the school, is a clenched fist.

I grab that hand, pull his fingers away from his palm gently and squeeze before letting go. He smiles at me, pushing his hair out of his eyes, before shrugging his backpack further up his shoulders and stepping through the school gates.

We walk forward together and all eyes immediately pin to him. That's when the whispering starts. I hear snatches of his name, Jack, suspension and even that Kyle kid gets mentioned. Of course, their gazes drift over me.

Theo is above it all. He walks with a straight back and a frown, ignoring the whispering and pointing and occasional bursts of laughter and not stopping in his stride until he reaches his locker. I watch him with a bit more than just pride.

"You handled that well," I say, leaning against the locker that used to belong to me while Theo shoves his books away and pulls out his earphones.

"No idea how," he replies quietly, laughing a little. He glares at the kids surrounding us and a few of them have the dignity to look away. "Is it cliché to say that you helped me through it?"

"Probably." I smile. "But I'm sure I can bring myself to forgive you." TT Info

Theo smiles, handing me one of the earphones. We set off down the corridor shoulder to shoulder and soon, as always, it feels like there's nobody else here at all.