Memoir of a Ghost Girl

Chapter 2

I wondered how someone from the open house could be moving in already as I approached the truck. I realized it was impossible. That means someone else decided to move expressly into my house.

Three guys were unloading the various pieces of furniture and boxes from the truck. One was doing twice the amount of heavy lifting as the others combined. Taking in the size of his muscles, it made sense.

A mocha bushy beard balanced his shaved head perfectly. Baldy was wearing a muscle tank that was tight enough to show off every defined ridge, and some jeans that made the image of him leaving just as nice as the one of him approaching. Tattoos snaked out from underneath the tank on his back and onto the backs of his arms. The spiral designs were almost as mesmerizing as his sky-blue eyes.

The second guy had thick blonde hair styled to perfection. He looked like a model, just enough muscle to draw attention, but not bulky like Baldy. Pretty Boy was wearing a loose t-shirt with a pair of ripped jeans. His green eyes sparkled with mischief as he continually picked the lightest items and took his sweet time going back and forth between the house and the truck.

The third was absolutely adorable. He was the smallest of the three, but he still dwarfed me. While he had some definition, he was leaner than Pretty Boy. He had his long auburn hair pulled into a bun on the back of his head. You heard me right, a bun. I was practically swooning already. His sun-kissed skin was the cherry on top.

Man Bun wore a dark t-shirt and regular jeans. He had this moody aura about him, like a trouble soul or something. Charcoal eyes like steel hid pain that made me wonder what had happened to him and if he wrote poetry.

I sat on top of the moving truck, swinging my legs back and forth as I watched them work. It was by far the best show I'd seen in ages. They didn't talk and worked like a well-oiled machine. This did not appear to be their first rodeo. That skill would come in handy when they left. They may have been nice to look at, but they still had to go. This was my house.

Once the truck was empty, I followed them inside. Everything that they unloaded sat in an enormous pile in the living room. Well, that was stupid. They should have carried everything where it went. Now they still had so much work left to do.

"Do it already," Baldy said, looking at Pretty Boy. Pretty Boy smirked and tilted his head. Dear god, he had dimples. What a deadly weapon.

"Don't rush me," he replied in a teasing tone. Walking toward the pile, he closed his eyes and held up his hands. I mean, was he trying to use the force? My laughter cut off when his eyes opened.

A green symbol, almost a pentagram, illuminated each of his irises. The neon color made his eyes glow. Amazed and shocked, I watched as green swirls left his hands and headed for the pile. One by one each piece of furniture, each box moved to its location within the house.

While Pretty Boy was at work, Man Bun went to the fridge and pulled out three beers. Opening them, he took one to Baldy and gave one to Pretty Boy once he finished before drinking the other one himself.

"You don't have to say anything," Pretty Boy remarked, taking another sip. "I know I'm awesome."

"Pretty Boy," I exclaimed, walking over to him. The symbols had faded from his eyes. "You're a freaking wizard!"

Of course no one responded or acknowledged me, but I didn't care. I just found out magic was fucking real. Marge and Jerry would not believe this shit.

"When is he getting in?" Man Bun looked to Baldy with his question. Baldy shrugged and took another drink of beer.

I wish I knew what beer tasted like. That was one rebellious action I had failed to take while still alive. Not for lack of trying, though. There was a bar downtown I had tried to get into, but they spotted my fake ID immediately.