The Boy And The Ghost

Chapter 1

"'Let observation with extensive view,
Survey mankind, from China to Peru;
Remark each anxious toil, each eager strife,
And watch the busy scenes of crowded life;
Then say how hope and fear, desire and hate,
O'erspread with snares the clouded maze of fate,--'"

"BOOORRINGGG!!!" my little cousin Mark yells at me, well, more precisely in my ears.

I chuckle and push him away, "Now how are you going to be a ladies' man, Mark, if you don't know poetry?"

He makes a face at me from his position on the ground, amidst the grass, clearly disgusted.

He is just seven.

"I'm not sure you'll be catching any girls soon either with that piece, Rick," my friend, Jack, lets me in on his wise insight from his lawn chair, "Mood killer, yesh!"

I take off my shirt, ball it up and throw it at him, too hot in the summer sun now. It lands on his face and he spills his lemonade. I grin.

"If they don't like it, I might as well not like them then. She won't be 'the one'. Simple," I blatently tell him, "It's got a ring of truth in it."

"Who are you? Romeo?" my other college-mate, Kyle, teases as he brings in a horde of beer, Francis and Luke following after him as they laugh at me.

"What's so wrong with having the same mindset?" I ask them, Mark now busy making his paper aeroplane fly in the air.

They dump the cans in the pool full of iced water and drop dead next to me on the grass.

I pop open a can and take a swig, the heat already making my vest stick to my body with sweat. It's a good thing I decided to wear shorts. "Relationships need understanding. That's how they last," I tell them.

"Now that will get you girls," Jack tells me, sending me a wink. I can't help but be amused. He's the self-proclaimed ladies' man among us. Blond hair, stubble, four-pack, a sweet mouth... knocks 'em dead everytime, or so he says. I quote, 'It's in the eyes Rick, all in them green eyes'.

I snort out loud.

No one would believe he ranks second in the examinations every damn time. Well, second after me of course, but that doesn't mean I don't want to see someone kick his butt back a place.

That's just how we roll.

"Nah, he'll just scare 'em off with that expression he always has on," Francis remarks.

"What expression?" I ask.

"That one," Kyle points to my whole face, circling his finger, "Same every single time."

In other words, my face in general.

They all laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," I shove Kyle, "I bet May has a harder time doing your facejob for you."

Kyle blushes, which isn't quite noticable on his tan skin but I make note of it all the same, a smug look crossing my face. He tilts his head so his black bangs can offer some cover, his onyx eyes darting anywhere but in my direction.

May's been with Kyle for a year now, and he can't shut up about her at times. It's either brooding that she's not there or boasting about how awesome she is. Guy's totally whipped.

"Ease up with the gun shots man," Luke laughs out when he sees Kyle's discomfort.

Luke's the only one of us who actually looks like he goes to Berkeley with his spectacles and nerdish look. Not that he's not good looking with his auburn hair and amber eyes but he physically doesn't look like the rest of us. Not suprising, since he prefers to remain indoors and read while the rest of us spend hours in the gym.