Midnight {*COMPLETE*}

F O U R

  My cheek tingled where he had touched me. Chills swept up and down my spine, but not unpleasant chills. Amazing chills, like the kind I imagined you would get when you first kiss someone that you are totally into. All the little hairs on my back were standing and sensitized, and I could feel, blood pounding through my body towards my groin. All from one little touch? Impossible! I had my silent room all to myself, but not too surprisingly, I couldn't sleep. You would think that anyone would have a hard time dozing off after a face-to-face encounter with a ghost. My reasons weren't quite what you would expect. Instead of lying awake afraid or unsettled, I stared at the ceiling and thought about his shiny brown hair and those big black lashed blue eyes. He had looked so sad and vulnerable, adorable when he grinned. I was totally infatuated. Oh my god Carter Tate. You've held it together for two years, both feet planted solidly in the closet, and now this? You want a guy...who's dead?

So here comes big confession time...which you've probably already figured out for yourselves. I'm gay. At least I'm pretty sure I am. I figure I can't really say I'm gay since I've never actually been with a guy. Sad, huh?

You wanna know how I got to be twenty and still have only messed around with a few girls that I was totally not into? It was surprisingly easy. Classic high school golden boy, smothered by his proud father who couldn't wait for his only son to join the clan of cavemen at the Sigma Ep house just like his dad. I was a legacy, and I would have fit in anyway (at least on appearances). I got in no problem.

But there was a problem...I didn't really want to be here. This wasn't who I was, who I wanted to be. It was just that my dad had always been so proud of me and I hated to make him unhappy. Truthfully, I was also afraid of what would happen when he found out and I wasn't his golden boy anymore. I was afraid. So there I was, living in a frat house pretending to be straight. No matter what you see on TV, the hot guy jock fraternity isn't exactly a safe haven for the queers of the world. I'd heard the way they talk, and I decided a long time ago to keep my mouth shut. I didn't want to get my ass kicked or worse.

I really don't mind the guys other than their ridiculously archaic views on sexuality. Most of them are pretty cool and will be as long as they don't find out what's swirling around in my head. It's been basically okay. I have two more years of hiding then I'm off to live my own life. At least I've had some great man candy to look at along the way!

Unfortunately, now I have a new problem. Jamie the friendly (and hot) ghost needs my help but doesn't even know what kind of help he needs. I promised to help him and even worse... I'm totally attracted to him. A ghost. I know how crazy that sounds. Don't even get me started.

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My first step was to figure out if, in fact, I was really talking to Jamie Douglas, deceased Sigma Ep. Since my other option was being nuts, I really hoped I was going to find some kind of record of him living in our house.

In the main living room, we had a bookshelf full of photo albums. They were kind of like fraternity yearbooks. Every year, there was a group shot, and each brother had their picture taken on his own. They were organized into photo albums along with candid pictures from different fraternity events. There were a ton of books, dating back to the start of the house somewhere in the twenties. I started looking through the books for the one that would contain pictures from nineteen fifty-nine.

They were dusty, and not quite in order, but I eventually found the one I was looking for. It had pictures from nineteen fifty-five to nineteen sixty. If Jamie Douglas existed, he would be in there. I grabbed it, stuck it in my backpack, and headed up to my room.

I turned my lamp and ceiling lights on, a little freaked out. I had no idea why the creepies were suddenly taking over. I mean, I wasn't scared of the ghost himself. Just the opposite. So why was I freaking out over some old photo album? I guessed it meant that if and when I saw Jamie's picture, it would mean this whole thing was real.

I flipped slowly through the pages, starting in the beginning. I knew that Jamie wouldn't be there yet, but it was interesting looking through all the old pictures. The guys looked so uptight back then, with their Mr. Rogers sweaters and slicked back hair.

I wondered what they would think of the way my brothers dressed now. Most of them were total slobs. It didn't even matter since the sorority girls would fall all over them based on social status alone. It totally annoyed me that I was hit on all the time based purely on what letters were stitched on my sweatshirt. It seemed so shallow. I guessed it probably wouldn't annoy me too much if any of them looked more like Jamie. Yeah right. That wasn't likely to happen.

I was getting close to the back of the book, almost to the section where he would be. I could feel my heart pounding. I wanted him to be real so badly. I wanted to find out how I could help him. When I finally got to nineteen fifty-eight, the year he would have been a freshman, I turned the page slowly.

It didn't take me more than a second to find him. He looked exactly the same. Just to be sure, I checked the name typed below his picture. James Douglas. There he was. Warm dark hair, curled haphazardly over his ears, sweet open smile, and those eyes...wow. Even in black and white, their power was intense.

I looked at his picture for long minutes, memorizing the features I had seen so clearly the night before. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. I had never looked at these old books, never seen his picture. I couldn't have imagined him. There was only one possible conclusion. Jamie Douglas's ghost was real. And he needed me.

I spent a long time looking at the pictures in the old photo book. The formal shots and candids of the brothers together. There was one guy that Jamie nearly always stood next to in pictures. He had sandy hair and a big grin. I looked up his name. Grayson Turner. That's an unusual name for back in the years of Jacks, Bills, and Johns.

In all the pictures, Grayson seemed kind of like a Kennedy or something. This golden boy who would have had a crowd of admirers. I wanted to hate him. I did kind of hate him. Mostly because there was something in Jamie's face in all the pictures. It was there, in the way he smiled the pretty blonde boy. I recognized that look. It made an irrational snake of jealousy slither down my spine. Had Jamie been in love with him? It seemed pretty obvious, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions. One thing I did know for sure. Somehow this Grayson guy was the first step in solving Jamie's mystery. I tried to go to sleep early, anticipating a wake up call in the middle of the night. But I found myself getting excited to see Jamie again. I wanted to talk to him more, get to know him. I knew that excited, happy feeling. I had felt it a few times in high school. It had nearly gotten me into huge trouble with one of my friends from the soccer team. Thank god I came to my senses before I tried to kiss him or something. I punched my pillow, annoyed with myself for being so dumb. A crush on a ghost? So stupid.