Goodbye, Evan

12

When I wake up, I'm between Theo's legs. Between. His. Legs.

History leaps at my throat and it's all I can do not to screech and scramble out of the bed towards the door. I force myself to lie still and take in the situation. It's dawn and the room is illuminated with pale pink light. My head is resting on the smooth skin of Theo's right knee and his left leg is draped across my stomach along with the bottom half of the covers. It's nothing sexual - it must've just happened by accident sometime in the night - but it feels awfully intimate, like the morning after.

Slowly, I move the leg draped across me back onto the bed with light fingers and sit up, quickly covering the bottom half of his body with the quilt. On tiptoes I head towards the door and slip out of it, managing not to make a sound and managing not to wake Theo, whose face is soft and frownless in sleep.

Just when I think I've made it back safe, I meet Georgia on the landing. Well, I say meet - I actually crash into her, sending the pile of freshly washed laundry in her arms to the carpet.

"Sorry!" I whisper, quickly scooping up a sheet and taking as long as possible to fold at it waist height. If she saw the... presence I was hiding - well, fuck the ghost magic, I think she'd throw me out of the house no matter what.

"It's... it's... er... it's okay?" Georgia manages, yawning. Her eyes are droopy and I think that some part of it might actually be due to tiredness as opposed to my unintentional magical fuckery. I want to ask her how much she works and how long she's been awake, but I think the ghost magic would send her to sleep on her feet.

But this woman surprises me. Rubbing her eyes, (and spreading her eyeliner down her cheeks) she smirks down at me. (I'm even shorter than most women, goddammit.) "You were just," she yawns, "in Theo's room, weren't you? Are you..." yawn, "sure you're not..." yawn, "dating?"

"One hundred percent," I say so firmly that I forget to whisper, handing her the folded sheet and hastily picking up another one. "He had a nightmare and I wanted to see if he was okay. I fell asleep. That's all."

Georgia takes the sheet from me. Now the only barrier I have between her and my little problem is ghost magic. Thank the unforgiving lord, it seems to be working.

"Uh huh." Yawn. Eye rub. "Well, about the dating thing... maybe you should... work on that." She smirks and punches my shoulder good-naturedly, yawning again. "I wouldn't say that's purely morning wood."

Now my entire body is flushing, this time from embarrassment. Laughing under her breath, Georgia heads down the landing with her arms full. Hastily, I dart back into my room and scramble back into my bed, which is now cold. I stretch out again and force myself to calm down.

-----------------------------------------------

I really shouldn't have partaken in P.E today, but I honestly couldn't help myself.

I was always sporty. It was the being-a-midget thing, I think. I felt like I needed to make up for it. That and the boys I hung around with when I was alive were lovers of rugby and football and similar atrocities, so I was naturally roped into the fray.

I was short, strong, generally stocky and extremely aggressive, meaning that I was the cause of numerous broken noses. (Even when it was a non-contact sport.)

I wasn't the best at track, but I have this advantage called being dead. It comes with benefits such as limitless energy and no need to breathe.

Every time I lapped Theo and the rest of the boys, I slowed down a bit to ask him how he was doing. It pissed him off, which was extremely hilarious. When we were finished, the P.E teacher and other boys tried to glare at me but, as expected, it didn't go too well for them. Theo and I headed to the bathrooms to put our uniforms back on, him because he's gay and oh, horror, he might try to fuck us! and me because just looking at that changing room door fills my brain with gushing scarlet.