Pagebound

Chapter III

Maxwell T. Parsons can not entirely recall the exact moment the... thing he had just conversed with rounded the corner. He was dumbfounded. As Maxwell was purely a man of logic so rarely found himself admitting to being completely shaken to the level where he found he could not function. He was always puzzled how in books the man lost all control of his mouth and body when in the presence of a beautiful maiden or breathtaking landscape. Even Maxwell had to confess that the girl-like specimen before him was extremely attractive and boys (if that way inclined) would fall desperately in love with her. But the look in her animated brown eyes told him that if they did, she would drain them of their blood and spit them out a broken, hollow shell. This was not however the thing that made Maxwell shudder (as he is not a boy to be known for romantic or lustful thoughts).

Maxwell knew many words, many phrases and many quotes but none in his immediate conscious could describe what the way in which the ghost was slowly making its way towards him. Not floating in the way it is usually imagined or shown in film and not swimming in the way that is done by humans. It was somewhere in between. Her brown, almost blonde hair swirled around her shoulders like a strong current but did not lift up above her scalp as would normally happen if submerged in water. She glided forwards, toenails barely scraping the hard-wood floor

She then smiled widely seeing Maxwell's fearful reaction and landed gently on her toes approximately a meter away from him. Despite the distance, Maxwell felt her chilling presence as strongly as though he was standing in the midst of the faded blue light that outlined her skinny figure. She attempted and failed to stifle a laugh that began to creep up from her chest by pursing her plump lips together. Her eyes shone like soft toffee of a sunset picnic as she failed miserably to keep a straight face. Her harmonic laugh seemed to bounce off all the single splinters of wood and slice through Maxwell's fear like the bright, fiery daggers that were faded but still clear in her eyes. He felt himself relax slightly but still remained wary of the horror stories that surrounded supernatural beings such as her.

"I'm sorry," she gasped between genuinely awkward, seal-like heaves of laughter. She took a deep breath, flattening her dress in an attempt to put on a façade or seriousness. "It's my first time doing the whole... you know­..." she gestured with her hand prompting Maxwell to continue her sentence. "I-I-I really don't," he stuttered; and he didn't. He didn't like not knowing things, it nagged at his brain and was not very common in Maxwell's experience. He knew an awful lot and what he didn't, he could pretend he did. Everything about it or her, about this house was a mystery to him and for a split second he wanted to just leave back to where he was the top of the class, where students, sometimes even teachers came to him to ask questions. But he did not know anything about this, and he was going to learn. "The whole... ghost, human thing," she stated finally, finishing her own sentence.

In the extremely rare case, such as the present, where Maxwell does indeed have no clue what in the infinite universe is going on, he finds it best to just smile and nod. This is something that Maxwell is indeed very good at and has been partaking in from an astoundingly young age and has become astoundingly talented in the area. So Maxwell smiled his awkward, shy smile and then he nodded, ever so slightly that not one single, ginger hair entrapped by his skin moved.

Kayla returned his impeccable gesture with her own genuine grin. "Um, so..." she began although it was obvious to Maxwell that she was simply stalling for time until a genius conversation starter reached her mind. Maxwell opened his mouth slightly in a way that held incredible resemblance to a fish but then closed it quickly after his brain regained enough function to partake in normal social interaction and come to the realization of the fact that she did indeed come here often.

"Why are you here?" she finally asked in; Maxwell's opinion, sounding slightly rude.

"It was," he swallowed confused as to why his throat was still so dry when he considered himself to be in a calm state of mind now. "It was raining. I thought this house was abandoned, I'm sorry."

"Oh no Maxwell, I so happy you're here I could just die!" She yelled dramatically smiling at her own joke. Maxwell's lips however did not even jerk into the slightest smirk. Humor was not something done entirely well by Maxwell, much less when a supernatural being somehow knows your name and even less when he somehow felt comfortable around a ghost. As you may have guessed, this is not something that Maxwell experiences regularly and he is not usually comfortable around... anyone.

After some slight consideration Maxwell did decide to smile. It was of course too late for the ghost the consider this a reply to her previously unanswered joke so she crinkled her nose, her whole face in fact, and raised one eyebrow curiously.

"I was... never mind," Maxwell started than aloud his voice to drift away until it was folded into the eerie silence and engulfed by the house. More silence followed.

"Uh, why," he stopped himself once more not knowing if it was appropriate to question the fact of her previous knowledge of him and frankly terrified of the answer.

"What's your name," he finally settled on taking a (in his opinion) brave step towards her.

"Kayla," she answered simply guiding a single strand of hair behind her petite ears. She smiled again and this time Maxwell smiled back. He liked her, and, Maxwell decided almost instantaneously, he was going to be friends with her.