Just Look

Prologue

Theres a moment when you look at a person and you see them for the first time. When you really look. And its not like all the other times youve seen them. Thats just casual looking. You can talk to a person every day; you can know every slope and plane of their face; but you dont really see them. Youre looking at them through a veil of familiarity. Thats why people in your memories never look the same as their real-life counterparts. Once you really focus on them, you tear down the veil. You see them exactly how they are. All rough edges and bags under the eyes; all stray hairs and kinked eyelashes. All blood vessels and skin; so, so much skin.

That was one of Michaels favorite pastimes. Hed sit quietly at lunch, nestling his face in his hoodie sleeve. Hed peek out from the top of his arm, stare at people, and try to tear down the veil. It was like he was ripping off his classmates faces. He would do that all through lunch. He didnt eat his food; that is, if his mom remembered to give him any. Hed just sit there. Watching. Looking.

The other kids never tried to talk to him. He was that one kid that no one talks to. Theres always one kid that is ignored by their classmates. People like having a common enemy. A person to switch the conversation to when it isnt going in their direction.

So, Jenna told me you kissed Madeleine on the playground.

Yeah, but did you see Michael? He was staring at me at lunch today.

He does that. Hey, did I tell you I caught him trying to eat dirt?

The teachers tried to reach out to him. They knew about his parents. Of course, they knew. Theyd seen enough children with distant looks to know where the distance came from. But they couldnt help. They were powerless, and they knew it. But what little they could do, they did. Michael knew that on the days when his mom locked herself in the bathroom and wouldnt come out until his bus came, hed have a sandwich waiting for him in the teachers lounge. The teachers would pitch in to get him school supplies when his grades were dropping. Theyd make sure he had at least one proper meal. But other than that, they had to watch as Michael trudged home from school because he missed his bus and his mom forgot what time he got out of school. They watched the boy with distant eyes who knew too much for his age. They watched with pain in their eyes. But still, they watched.

And Michael watched, too. He watched his classmates at lunch. He stripped them of their familiarity and forced himself to see past what he always saw. He let himself see every fiber of their being. He sat alone, he watched, and his classmates passed him by.

But then, in third grade, someone was there. Someone was sitting next to Michael.

Hi. Im Jeremy, said the someone.

Im Michael, Michael mumbled. He didnt look at the newcomer. He was busy looking at everyone else.

I know who you are. Jeremy poked Michaels elbow. Everyone says youre crazy. So? Are you?

What?

Are you crazy? Jeremy repeated.

Michael shifted his head so he was further nestled in his arm. Im not crazy. I just like looking.

Can I help?

What? This boy was full of strange questions. Michael wasnt sure if he liked it. At home, no one asked questions. At school, no one asked questions. Everyone just whirled past him. It was confusing to him why, suddenly, this boy dropped out of his own orbit to visit Michaels.

Can I help you look? What are you looking for?

That was two questions in one. I guess, Michael muttered. He wasnt sure how to answer the second question. Im looking for people.

Theres people all around, silly.

Thats . . . thats not what I meant. Im looking . . . through people.

You mean, you can see ghosts? Jeremy said excitedly.

Michael almost smiled. It had been so long since he had smiled. Doing it now kind of made him want to throw up and laugh and throw up from laughing.