Ghost

0603

"Saw you at church Sunday."

I was sitting in the bleachers, watching the kids throw dodge balls at each other; the boys aiming for the hottest girls, and the girls prancing around them in giggling fits. My feet weren't up on the seat in front of me as usual. They were stiffly planted on the ground, my hands twisting the gold cross around my neck. I hadn't looked at him since he took his usual seat beside me. I didn't know what the norm was after seeing someone outside of school.

"I've never seen you there before. Was that your first time?"

My shoulders eased a little, but my fingers still wrung the chain around my neck. I nodded. "I didn't know you were Catholic."

He let out a dry laugh. "I know, right? A punk like me? My mom hates me, she says church is the only way to wash the satan out of me."

My face twisted. "She seems a little..." I stopped, not wanting to seem too harsh.

"Crazy?" He answered. Not quite where I was going, but close enough. "Yeah, she told my little brother that if he ever turned out like me, she'd disown him."

"Wow," I said. "Reminds me of my mom."

"Hm, what do ya know? Something else we have in common." He smiled, his cheeks curling up a set of dimples. I looked him in the eye the first time since meeting him; we were sitting closer than I'd originally realized. I could see the green in his eyes.

He was about to open his mouth when the coach blew his whistle. "Hagen. Woodry. Start walking. Now."

We both sighed and forced ourselves out of the seats, letting them swing shut as we walked up the stairs to the track. As soon as our feet hit the lined cement, Randy looked back to me.

"I should meet your mom sometime."

I couldn't hide my surprised expression. "Why?"

He laughed. "Kidding. But I wouldn't mind hanging out with you sometime. I mean, there's not a lot of other kids around that I really, you know, have a lot in common with. You're kind of different...like me. I guess."

My lungs became tight and I had to suck in air like my throat was a straw. Was this really happening? Did he really think that we had a lot in common, that I was different? I couldn't recall the last time anyone had asked me to hang out, let alone a boy. I almost screamed yes before I realized...my mother.

"We might have to sneak you in," I said. When he laughed, I couldn't help but smile.

"Wouldn't be the first time."