NECROMANTIC

five.

I spent the majority of the morning in a grouchy mood. Being sleep deprived due to the lack of desire to sleep because of nightmares will do that to you. Not even Rob’s unfairly adorable bed hair (it almost looked like he’d stuck his finger in an electrical socket, only instead of it getting fried, it was fluffy and downy as a baby duck’s feathers – I’d know, I’d reached over and touched it with glee), morning pout and gravelly morning voice could cheer me up. Not even perving on his darling little tushie when he got dressed, wiggling into his jeans helped. And there was rarely ever a mood I could get into that wasn’t remedied by staring at my boyfriend’s butt, so that was saying something.

I’d been sluggish getting dressed myself, pulling on my favourite pair of jeans, black skinnies with both legs covered in great big horizontal rips (coincidentally, my mom’s least favourite pair of my jeans), a white tank and white pleather Doc Martens. I tugged a brush through my chopped, mid-neck length hair, which despite my efforts, still managed to look messy and less Kylie Jenner (which was sort of the aim), more I can’t be bothered in the slightest. Story of my life.

Just as I was about to leave my bedroom, I noticed Rob’s Hawaiian shirt, lying on the end of my bed. He was in my en suite bathroom, brushing his teeth, and I bit my lip, considering, before thinking aw, fuck it, grabbing it, pulling it on and leaving it unbuttoned.

“Morning, sunshine!” my mom’s first words were not only irksomely chirpy, but delivered loudly. And of course, when I winced, and she noticed, she only laughed, waiting until I’d sat at the kitchen island to place a plate of scrambled eggs and toast soldiers in front of me, and a kiss on my cheek.

I would’ve grumbled, but she’d saved herself with the breakfast. My mom can make a mean scrambled eggs and toast soldiers.

My dad, sat opposite me, reading the news on his tablet, shot me an equally cheery ‘morning!’, before mom put his breakfast before him, and they shared a tender, sickening kiss. “How I was born to two morning people, I’ll never know.”

“Oh, shush, and eat your eggs.” Mom giggled when they finally broke apart, turning back to the stove, and stirring up the last of the eggs, no doubt waiting for my boyfriend – who walked in a minute later, sitting beside me, and deliberately bumping my shoulder, with feigned offence. “You insult my shirt, then you steal it from me.”

I took a bite of one of the toast soldiers, and lifted my shoulders in a shrug, grinning at him, though it was half-hearted. “It’s ugly cute.” I paused, before teasingly, and falsely adding “Like you.”

He jostled my shoulder again, and we broke into a ridiculous upper-arm shoving fight, until my mom intervened with a “Would you like some scrambled eggs, Rob, hon?”

“Yes, please, Mrs Cohen.” He said with enthusiasm. Nobody could deny the tastiness of my mom’s scrambled eggs, clearly – given that before Rob had ever tried hers, he swore that he hated the dish.

“Bella, silly. Call me Bella.” She repeated the well-worn mantra that both knew would most likely never happen. Rob was far too polite, and even if he wasn’t, it can be just plain awkward being on first name basis with someone else’s parents. It kind of required a set amount of time of having known one another. Heck, it had only been in the past two years that Maemi had been able to call mom Bella and dad Sam.

Breakfast passed by relatively quickly – which was good, because I could feel my head beginning to loll, and face planting the plate of eggs would probably suck a whole bunch – and soon, Rob and I were on our way to school, walking hand in hand.

We’d pretty much fallen into a companionable silence from the moment we’d said goodbye to mom and dad, so when Rob next spoke, I wasn’t expecting it and, shamefully, jumped a little. “So what was your dream about?”

I frowned, unsure how to answer the unexpected inquisition. “What dream?”

“The one that kept you up for most of the night.” He answered simply, and glanced at me, catching my eyes. A gaze that I quickly broke, staring instead at the repetitive motion of my feet, my heart speeding up a little. I couldn’t look him in the eye, because then I’d just confirm it to him. I didn’t want to have to lie. But I did anyway. “I can’t remember.”

“You can’t remember?”

“No.” I said, the word coming out harsher than I planned it to. I took a deep breath, before softening my voice, feeling guilty for snapping, when he didn’t deserve it. “It was one of those dreams that freak you, but you forget the minute your eyes open. And it just leaves you freaked for a bit after.”

I didn’t need to look at his face to know that he most likely didn’t buy it, but he didn’t say anything, and we descended into quiet again – tense at first, then less so as we both let ourselves be calmed by the silence, the walking, and our hands. Until I pissed it away again, by involuntarily tensing when we passed the bus stop sign the crow had perched on.

“What’s wrong?” he asked me, softly, in a tone that meant I didn’t have to answer if I didn’t want to, but I’d feel bad if I didn’t.

“I guess I’m just nervous about going back to school is all.”

That’s right, Sarah. Keep working that silver tongue, and prove to yourself that you are indeed, not good enough for him.

“No need to be.” He said, and gave my hand a gentle squeeze, which I returned. “Just think of all the amazing theories Mae is gonna fire at you the minute you see her today.”

I felt my lips pull up in a smile despite myself, and nodded, squeezing his hand again, and pressing my face playfully into his upper arm. “And you.” I murmured into his arm. “You make things slightly less sucky.”

“Well, I wanted to be humble, but…” he said jokingly, before trailing off into a chuckle, which I joined into, and we continued on our way – thankfully – no more weirdness occurring as we did. I genuinely meant it, too – being with Rob, it made me forget how fucked up I clearly was. The fact he didn’t press me, and that he made me feel better … combine that with the age old ‘if I ignore it, it isn’t really happening’ trick I was more than willing to put into practice, I mean it wasn’t like I planned on raising anything else from the dead, and the whole ghost thing was old news now … maybe I had a shot at pulling it off, and everything would be ok.

Famous last words, right?