Ghosting You

Chapter 7 - Miss Okafor

The ensuing twenty minutes saw Kel utterly transfixed, his ghostiness rendered paralyzed by the significant implications of what had just happened. This living, breathing young student - this passionately bookish stranger whose name he didn't even know - had pierced the veil. Seen him, heard him, acknowledged his existence in defiance of every natural law governing his newfound ghostly state.

As the rest of the class rustled and packed up their notes, a few furtive glances were thrown in the young woman's direction when she had unleashed her annoyed hush-noise. But their quizzical expressions were met with a laser-focused glare, daring any of them to pursue the matter and distract her from her studious objections to Kel's disruption.

The metaphorical bell rang, and the mass exodus from the stepped lecture hall began in earnest. Students filtered out, chatting and comparing notes, grateful for the relief from Adeyemi's excruciatingly painful lessons. The young woman, still vibrating with anxious scholarly intensity, mechanically gathered up her materials, carefully stowing away her notepad and weighty books.

Just as her trainers-adorned feet hit the dimly lit access corridor, Adeyemi's nasally voice reverberated from the front of the amphitheater. "Miss Okafor! A word before you go?"

Kel's observational trance was broken as he watched the young student - Miss Okafor apparently - release a resigned sigh that lifted her shoulders dramatically. She hesitated, that brief soul-baring moment where the weight of eternal student suffering seemed to grip her slouched form. But, ever the diligent academian, she pivoted sharply on her heel and retraced her steps back down toward the lectern.

Kel found his eyes drifting subconsciously in her wake, an unsettling imitation of her ascending the gently inclined steps. They followed her diligently as she stood contritely before the lectern, hands clutching her bookbag with white-knuckled intensity.

"Yes, Professor?" She managed in a tone struggling for deference despite the daydream fatigue audibly fraying its edges.

Whatever observations, criticisms, or complex philosophical thoughts Adeyemi shared were completely lost on Kel. His newly awakened senses remained fixated in awe upon this Miss Okafor and the seemingly impossible way she had become...distinctly aware of his existence in a way mundane reality should certaintly not allow.

Maybe in those lofty academic halls, where minds danced among theories and hypotheses, the laws of existence operated differently. Or perhaps the cosmos had finally grown weary of tormenting Kel with its enigmatic whispers, and now it extended an olive branch, beckoning him toward the answer that had haunted him for so long: "Why?"

He swore to find out.

Miss Okafor stacked her books into her locker with a practiced efficiency, the metal door clanging shut as she secured the latch. But no sooner had the echoes of that metallic report faded than her gaze landed squarely on Kel's grinning face hovering mere feet away.

A strangled yelp of surprise leapt from her throat, shattering the semi-hushed ambiance of the hallway. Nearby students swiveled in bewildered curiosity, eyes flicking between Miss Okafor and the empty space her petrified stare seemed to be transfixed upon. A pair of girls in matching sorority hoodies exchanged an eloquent look before one muttered something about "ogbanjes" under her breath.

Kel, for his part, remained rooted in that cheeky, disarmingly casual grin - as if materialization before a stranger's disbelieving eyes was the most natural thing in the world. "Hi," he offered simply, relishing in the dumbfounded blinks it elicited.

Miss Okafor's full lips parted and then pressed together again, worrying that plump flesh between her teeth as she visibly regathered her wits. "Yes?" She managed with a bemused lilt, gaze still frantically scanning Kel up and down. "How can I...help you?"