#Wattys2015 The Ghost of James Fitzpatrick

Chapter 20

Sarah excused herself after dinner and dishes to her bedroom. She was going to study, but also wait for him, and he showed. He said her name quietly as not to startle her.

"Hi Sarah," James said just above a whisper.

Sarah jumped from her bed and felt like hugging James, and she hoped he would hug her back, and he did.

She couldn't imagine how someone who came from nowhere could feel so warm, and smell so perfect, and she rested her head on his chest, just under his chin. She didn't want to let go. He let her stand as long as she liked.

"Hey," she said finally pulling away. "I missed you. You're royally screwing up my life."

James laughed.

"I've missed you too," he said.

"How can you miss me if you don't go anywhere?"

James shrugged his shoulders and brushed Sarah's hair out of her face.

"Fair question. Okay, I will say that I am very, very happy to see you, and that's gotta be the same thing, right?"

"Close enough," Sarah said, she took James' hand and sat on her bed. She patted the bed for him to sit down, which he did reluctantly. Sarah continued, "I've got so many things to say to you, about you and Principal Zwicki, and school, and I even have an idea..."

James interrupted her.

"I don't want you doing anything, Sarah. Nothing. I just want you to go back to school like nothing happened."

"How can you just let him get away with what he did to you? Let me go to the police."

"Oh no, no, no, no, you do not want to do that Sarah," said James.

"We can't just be bystanders."

Sarah pointed to the poster above her door. James swung around to look.

"What do you mean by 'we'? And yes, I know that poster very well, I've read it more than a dozen times while I've stood around this room waiting for you. A room that I am incapable of leaving, remember? And if I can't leave this room, I can't protect you from him."

James let go of her hand and stood up. "He doesn't look dangerous Sarah, but he is," James pointed to himself. "What the hell more proof do you need than this?" James was motioning up and down his entire body.

Sarah had waited the past 48 hours for him to show up again, and she didn't want to argue. It was not her plan to escalate his emotions, or upset either of them further. She took his hand again and sat back down.

"Ok," she said, "I'm sorry. I had pictured in my mind you would be happy to have the help of someone who would able to do something about him."

"You can't do anything about him, Sarah, and I don't need or want you to be my hero."

James laid all the way back on the bed with his feet on the floor, and Sarah made herself comfortable with her head on his shoulder.

The two of them rested in silence and Sarah felt James distractedly stroking her hair along her back, while he stared up at the blank ceiling above them.

"God knows I've brought enough turmoil to your safe, little girlie bedroom. You have made tremendous improvements to the place, by the way." James smiled at the thought. He raised his left hand to the ceiling. "Just on the ceiling alone, I had an American Flag and two posters. One of a '68 Camaro, and the other of Farah Fawcett."

"I don't know who that is," said Sarah, "was she pretty?"

"Very." James fell silent, but his eyes wandered around her walls above him. He continued fiddling with her hair, and Sarah relished the quiet, uninterrupted time with him.

"I would never forgive myself if something happened to you, Sarah, " he said, "you're like a little, dainty  flower, like those little clover flowers only your flower has long hair" James smiled at the thought, "and you're just minding your business on the big, grassy, happy, lawn, hanging out, being cute and doing your homework," his smile faded, " and JJ Zwicki's a big, old dirty boot headed your way."

James squeezed his arm around Sarah's shoulders.

"Mark my words Sarah, he will happily crush you."

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