Oozing Chemistry

13th Thing's 13th

Like any other morning, I watch the sun rise through the studio windows behind the grand piano, and in walks Reggie, a huge smile spread across his face as if he isn't the most suspicious person in the room. 

"Hey, song buddy," he greets, and I glare at him. 

"I am not your song buddy," I cross my arms, pushing shut the piano cover and exiting the studio, Reggie hot on my trail.

"We're writing a song together," he insists, that bright smile never faltering, "song buddy."

I pivot on my heel to face him, standing at the entrance to Julie's house as a body passes right through me. Ray, Julie's dad pauses in his step, furrows his eyebrows and glances around, then shrugs and enters the house. 

Reggie grabs my wrist and drags me inside with him. He follows Ray to their kitchen table, Ray sitting at the head and Reggie planting himself beside him. They just sit there in silence, Reggie looking amused as ever as Ray types away on his laptop.

"What are you doing?" I lean down to whisper, trying to see the world through his eyes.

"Oh, Izzy, this is my new friend Ray."

I can't help but laugh. "You made friends with Julie's dad? What do you even do together?"

"Tons of stuff," he scoffs but struggles to name any activities. "I watch him work, clean, cook... and other things friends do." 

All of this family stuff going on unsettles me, and the possibility that my dad is still here... I take a seat beside Reggie in silence and think it over.

If my dad's still here after almost thirty-five years, that'd be amazing. I doubt he would recognize me since it's been a long time, but that doesn't defeat the fact that he's my dad. We were incredibly close before he died. After all, it was just us two since forever.

But on the other hand, do I really want to get my hopes up? I don't know where he is. I don't know if he's even still here. I don't know if he was ever here. I have no idea how this ghost thing works and if it picks and chooses certain people or not.

Ray had deserted us and Reggie was staring intently at me from a chair over. "You're making that face. What's wrong?"

"I think I wanna go see my old house," I tell him, still in the process of making up my mind.

"Where you and Bobby used to live?" he asks skeptically, and I shake my head. He makes an 'o' with his mouth, "The old, old house. Got it. Do you remember where it is?"

"Sorta," I confess. As an eight-year-old, everything sort of fuzzes together, especially when you don't drive anywhere. Not that I drive anywhere now, but still. I teleport! That's something, right? "I remember the studio where I used to take dance lessons every weekday afternoon. That's about it."

Reggie sends me a reassuring, sweet smile and laces his fingers with mine. "Reporting for duty and ready for takeoff." And in a flash of white light, we're standing in front of my old dance studio, his hand still wrapped around mine.

The entire street is still the same, unlike the boys' neighborhoods. Same small businesses on either side of the road, old department stores and abandoned restaurants. Everything's made of the same old brick and concrete. Half of me leaps at the idea that everything's been preserved, but it hurts to see it all so run down and empty. Plastic, paper, and coffee cups line the gutters, and not a single person is in sight.

"Wow," Reggie breathes, and I agree, repeating it as I stare at the studio before us. Shattered glass is scattered across the sidewalk, and I unconsciously drift toward Reggie, scared I'd be mugged. Then I realize I'm dead. Haha, oh yeah...