Misguided Ghosts

Chapter Six

Six – Emilie

Breakfast was delicious. I hadn’t had someone cook me breakfast in a long time. The fact that it was made and served by an utterly gorgeous guy who was completely in love with me (well, in love with Tay) made it ten times better.  Ed barely touched his food, obviously still feeling queasy from his vomiting episode. In a way, I was glad he wasn’t my Ed: Emilie’s Ed. But I wasn’t Emilie any more. I had to start thinking of myself as Tay. Not Emilie. Tay. Tay Woodson.

None of Tay’s clothes really suited me. No. They did suit me. They suited Tay, not Emilie.

“Idiot,” I muttered, yanking out a pair of jeans from the mess on her bedroom floor.

They were ripped in several places, above and below the knee as well as the upper thigh on one leg and just the upper thigh on the other. I was just glad that at least my figure was still pretty good, even if I had been in a coma for two months. Clearly, the rumours about hospital foods making you fat weren’t true.  I stood in front of her drawers, wearing nothing but jeans and a bra for a long time, contemplating what to wear. Everything was so different to what Emilie had worn. But whatever I picked out would undoubtedly look amazing on Tay.

“You almost ready?” A voice said behind me, hands gently caressing my upper arms. I felt the light touch of lips on the top of my right shoulder. “You’re not seriously coming out like that, are you?”

I turned to face Ed. His eyes widened at my figure, and I could just make out that he was trying not to smile. I smiled, bowing my head, letting Tay’s choppy hair fall over her face. “No. I don’t know what to wear.”

He laughed and reached around me, into the drawer. He handed me a Guns’n’Roses vest with a flourish. “There you go. Now hurry up!” 

He left the room, laughing softly to himself.

I held the vest up in front of me, looking at the design.

“I don’t even know who you people are,” I sighed, before yanking it over my head.

Ed was waiting for me just outside my room. He smiled when I came out, holding out his hand for me to take. I took it, smiling to myself at the warmth and comfort holding his hand gave me.  It felt like everything I cared about was in that one hand, belonging to that one person.

Finally, a voice in the back of my head whispered. You’re thinking like her.  Excellent.

I ignored it and followed Ed out of the house.

We clambered into his car, an old, beat-up Mini. It was one of the old boxy ones, but it felt study. The engine rumbled to life, the car trembling beneath us. I smiled. It felt safe, strong. Ed squeezed my hand and kissed our twined fingers before putting his foot to the accelerator and backing out of the driveway. The radio was playing some kind of fuzzy alt-rock station, which I couldn’t really make out.

“It’s from the Midlands,” Ed said, gesturing to the radio.

“It’s okay,” I replied. “I kind of like it,”  

He laughed. “You should do – this was your favourite radio station,”

We drove in silence, him focusing on the road, me on the radio. It gave me an insight to how Tay worked:  what she liked and didn’t like.  After about five minutes, I decided I liked the music they were playing. It connected with me on a level that I never thought music could. A guy crooned for someone to stay with him, and that things took time to grow.

“That was You Me At Six, Stay With Me,” The announcer told us. I made a mental note to download it later. Whoever You Me At Six were, I liked them.