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In Tandem - Part 7

"Naomi" means "pleasant" or "sweet," which is extremely boring for how interesting it sounds.

That's what she told me, anyway.

...I think it's nice.

She also told me she was born in Puerto Rico, that her mother met her father there while working on a military base, and that they'd all moved here when she was transferred back to the States. She spoke Spanish and English, but her Spanish wasn't as good as it used to be. She loved books and quiet spaces and "anywhere ghost-free." She'd given me a rather...pointed look with that last one. I ignored it.

She answered all of my questions. I think she was under the impression that I'd stop "haunting" her if she did. I made it a habit of eating lunch at the tree by the parking lot. Every day I worried she wouldn't show.

Every day, she did.

Whenever she saw me, she'd roll her eyes. But by the third day she smiled too and I took that as a good sign.

"Why spend your time bothering me? Don't you have better things to do?"

"Like what?"

"Chilling the air? Popping out of lockers? Opening doors to empty rooms as people pass by?"

"...You've thought about this haunting thing a lot, huh?"

"You've been haunting me for two years. So yes. I have."

"Sure, sure."

"I'm not a ghost, Benji."

I'll admit I almost choked on my milk. I may have even changed the subject in favor of asking her more questions. For the record: her favorite color is green, she has an older brother and one niece, and her cat hates everyone.

I can hardly blame him. His name is Bagel. BAGEL. Are all cat people like this?

So what if I forgot to defend against her ghostly accusations? That gave her no right to smirk like that. God she looked so smug.

I mean, it was the first time she said my name.

Anyone would get flustered.

...Right?

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Part  1  2  3  4  5  6  7

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In Tandem - Part 6

Don't be creepy, don't be creepy, don't be creepy...

It'd been over a week since Library Girl ran off screaming. I was starting to worry she'd disappeared for good, but there she was. Sitting under a tree by the parking lot. Munching on a sandwich.

Do ghosts need to eat or is good food a perk of the afterlife? If so, why a sandwich of all things?

Seems kind of boring. Maybe she's not a ghost after all.

But then what the hell is she?

Who is Library Girl?

I sank too deep into my thoughts. I wasn’t at all prepared to speak to her yet but my feet never got the memo. Suddenly I was looming over her and, just as I started to panic, she spotted me. Her eyes went wide, her sandwich dropped to her lap, and I was officially awarded the title of "Biggest Creep of the Year." She didn't run or scream though, so I counted that as a win.

Unfortunately, it's impossible to make casual conversation with a girl only you can see, who may or may not be a ghost, who is most certainly terrified of you for reasons unknown while the panicked mantra of "DON'T BE CREEPY, DON'T BE CREEPY, DON'T BE CREEPY" is clanging around in your skull.

At least, it is for me.

"Um, er—hello! Fellow student! Who's totally normal. Like. Me. Lovely weather we’re having! Uh... How is your...sandwich?"

She glanced down at the mess that had once been her lunch. Her eyes darted back to me and she continued to stare as she shoveled the contents of her lap into her lunch bag. She then clutched her belongings to her chest and rose to stand on shaking legs.

I don't really know what I expected. She ran. Obviously.

"Wait!"

But as I turned, I glimpsed a last shadow of her as she shimmered out of sight. Again. Great.

I groaned and dropped to sit in her place. I checked for any bread crumbs but they'd disappeared with her. I shut my eyes and growled, knocking the back of my head into the tree trunk.

"You know, for a ghost, she sure scares easy."

Where did Roger go off to again? I still had time to find him and cram this pile of chicken nuggets into my mouth, right? I could take the milk with me.

"Excuse me?"

My eyes shot open. It was my turn to stare. She stood over me, glaring, her hands on her hips.

At least she didn't look frightened.

"Y-you're back."

"Back? I never left!"

"Yes you did."

"No I didn't!"

"You disappeared in thin air! I saw you!"

"What are you talking about? You're the one who does the dissapearing around here, not me!"

"Wha—no I don't! You're—"

"I can't even be in the gym by myself because I'm afraid you'll show up when I'm alone! My teammates give me weird looks, do you realize how embarrassing that is?!"

"Teammates?"

"Yes, volleyball! I play volleyball!"

"You...you play..."

"Oh don't act dumb. I see you in there all the time!"

"But...but you're never in the gym! You're always reading! In the library!"

"The—the library?"

She faltered, the flames behind those eyes of hers were sputtering. I frowned. This was more confusing than watching from afar.

"...I've never seen you in the library. It's...it's the only place I feel safe on my own."

Wait. What?

"Safe on your..? YOU'RE ALWAYS ALONE!"

The flames were back.

"Me? Listen here, pal, YOU'RE the one who's always alone and YOU'RE the one that disappears all the time because YOU'RE the one who's a ghost! NOT ME!"

I gaped at her. After two whole years of challenging my sanity with her very existence, she had the audacity to accuse me of haunting HER?

Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.

"Look, I'm sorry you're in some sort of denial about your...er...situation, but let's get something straight—"

"My what?!"

"YOU are the one haunting ME, got it? Not the other way around."

"HOW DARE—"

"ALL I WANT TO KNOW is your name."

"What?"

"Your name. I'd like to know your name."

Judging by her face, I must have grown a second head. I hadn't though, because unlike some people I am a totally normal, not-dead, human be—

"Naomi."

"Huh?"

"My name. It’s Naomi."

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Part 1  2  3  4  5  6  7

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In Tandem - Part 5

"Seriously? Riedel wasn't enough for you? You had to ruin high school for me too?"

"I'm sorry, I just--"

"I was so looking forward to leaving your ghost shit behind."

"But that's just it! I don't think she's a ghost!"

Roger groaned. I suppose he'd hoped it was all a bad joke I'd forgotten about. I did my best to let him think so. But this... this was different. He set his tray on the concrete beside him and turned to face me. I gazed at a flock of sparrows begging crumbs off some Sophomores at the picnic table.

"Alright, fine. Let's assume, for a sec, that you're not fucking with me, there really is a girl that only you can see, and she's not a ghost. So. What is she?"

"I...I don't know."

"You are so fucking with me."

"I'm not! She cut her hair, Roger!"

"What?"

"Her hair. It's always been long, like, past her shoulders. She hides behind it when she reads but today it was short. She even had it pulled back, like, I actually got a good look at her face."

"So...this is all wishful thinking because you don't wanna crush on a dead girl?"

"Wha..? No! I just—"

"Uh huh."

"No! Seriously, Roger, what the hell?"

Never ask Roger Higgins for advice on girls or ghosts. 

Or not-ghosts.

Never ask Roger Higgins for advice.

"Look, man, I'm just saying, for someone who made contact with a ghost that's been haunting him for, what? Two years, now? Assuming you're not fucking with me, of course--"

"I'm not!"

"Right, right. Sure. But don't you think it's a little weird that, while most people would be freaking out right now, you're concerned...with her hair?"

He didn't get it. He just didn't get it.

I told him as much.

He wasn't convinced.

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Part  1  2  3  4  5  6  7

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In Tandem - Part 4

It was my first day of high school. I'd spent the summer coming to terms with the fact that I'd never solve the Library Girl mystery and wondering if Tandem High had any interesting ghosts. Even if it did, I was sure that none of them could compare to her. She was too mysterious. She had the nostalgia thing going for her and I just felt...drawn to her.

It was weird. I was weird. God, I was weird.

Most importantly, I was late. On my first day of high school. I scrambled through the empty halls in a blind panic, my eyes glued to the map in my hands. Room 20. I needed Room 20. Why the hell was Room 20 by Room 42 and not Room 19 or 21? Who designed this school?!

As I rounded the corner, I saw a whirl of dark hair and my sneakers squealed against the tile. The sound wobbled when it echoed, as if...as if through water.

I'd run into someone.

Into, through, and behind.

I stood frozen on the other side. It couldn't be. Not on the first day. Not now?

Before I realized it, I'd turned to stare behind me. I met a pair of wide, horrified eyes. I glanced at the map, clutched in a pale, shaking hand. The bookbag clutched at her side was bulging. It must have been crammed with books.

It was the first time she looked at me.

The first time she saw me.

"Uh... hi?"

Not my most eloquent of moments, and a bit anticlimactic after all those years spent imagining what I'd say to her. I kicked myself for it later. Multiple times.

Stupid, stupid, STUPID!

In any case, she screamed and ran up the closest staircase, fading away as she went. Can't say I blame her, I suppose ghosts aren't used to being seen.

But what was she doing here?

Why would a ghost need a map?

It wasn't until I'd made it to class, earned my first official tardy, glared at a sniggering Roger, and sat slumped at my desk that it dawned on me.

She never reacted to her surroundings, not even if they went through her. And not once had she known I'd seen her. She shouldn't have suspected I'd noticed her. No one else did. No one ever did!

So why had she reacted before I turned around?

Why was she scared before our eyes met?

Can ghosts even get haircuts?

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Well what do ya know, there’s more! I’m still finalizing my formatting, so bear with me. Bweh. Here’s the rest:

Part  1  2  3  4  5

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In Tandem - Part 3

As my middle school career inched to a close, I grew to dread leaving her behind. She was a constant. An enigma. She never once saw me. I wanted to wave at her or ask her her name or walk right up to her and find out what she was reading. But, of course, catching her on my own proved somehow impossible and (if my experience with Roger was anything to go by) trying to catch the attention of a girl no one around me could see was a terrible idea.

Sometimes I wondered why anyone would want to spend their afterlife in middle school.

Did she get to choose? Or was it chosen for her? If so, who did the choosing? Or was it all just...random?

Maybe she just wanted to read books for all eternity.

Maybe she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up.

Or a librarian.

I wanted to ask her. It drove me mad not knowing. I scoured the halls each time I was lucky enough to get a pass. Nothing.

Where did she go when I couldn't see her?

What was her name?

What was she reading?

...How did she die?

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Hey look I have a fancy title! And I figured out Page links. This should be...interesting.

Part  1  2  3  4

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"You don't see her?"

"No."

"You really don't see her?"

"No, Benji."

"How can you not see her, she's right THERE!"

Roger sighed, dragging a pasty hand through his freckled face. He glanced over at the corner table. There she was, in her favorite spot. Reading. The usual. At that moment she burst out cackling, she even had to set her book down. She always tears up when she laughs.

"See?! She's laughing!"

"Cut it out, Benji, there's no one there."

"But--"

"Seriously, man! Enough with the ghost stories!"

Mrs. Cole cleared her throat from her desk. This was warning number one. There was no warning number two. Roger flushed and buried his face in his textbook. I tried to do the same but I barely made it two words before glancing back at her table. She was gone. Rain drummed against her window, but I could've sworn the sun had been shining at her back.

I never spoke of her again.

Part  1  2  3  4

It was back in middle school. Everything was new and different and half the faces had eyes that never met yours. So what did it matter if I didn’t know what her voice sounded like? Or her name? Must be some girl from Team 1 or 3. She must really love books though.

I don’t know when she became “Library Girl” but it’s where I spotted her most so it just kinda stuck. Always at the same table in the same corner, her back to the window, her face buried in some book. This isn’t to say that I never saw her anywhere else, but I could never spot her in a crowd. Somehow, she was always alone, absorbed in whatever she was doing—and she was always doing something.  She was always the way she was. And I could never seem to catch her eye. 

I suppose it started to bother me a some point. A little.  …A lot.

I’ve always been tall for my age, so my friends felt it…served them to include me in their basketball games. This was, in truth, absurd. I mean really, I’m a terrible shot and we’re talking middle school here. I was gangly and awkward with no coordination of any sort. I tripped over thin air more than I ever did my own two feet. “BENJI!” I gotta hand it to Roger Higgins. He actually believed I would catch that ball. It hit me square in the chest and bounced away. The other boys groaned. As I trotted after it, the sound of giggling drifted my way. Three girls were sitting along the school building wall. They paid me no mind, nor did they seem to notice the girl sitting a couple feet away, her nose in a book. I froze. Only for a moment, but just enough for the ball to bounce past my reach. It was heading straight for her. I stumbled forward. “Hey! The ball! It—” Rolled right through her and bounced off the wall. I gaped. It rolled back and bumped against my sneaker. The giggling girls were definitely staring at me. Library Girl turned the page in her book.

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It was back in middle school. Everything was new and different and half the faces had eyes that never met yours. So what did it matter if I didn’t know what her voice sounded like? Or her name? Must be some girl from Team 1 or 3. She must really love books though.

I don’t know when she became “Library Girl” but it’s where I spotted her most so it just kinda stuck. Always at the same table in the same corner, her back to the window, her face buried in some book. This isn’t to say that I never saw her anywhere else, but I could never spot her in a crowd. Somehow, she was always alone, absorbed in whatever she was doing—and she was always doing something.  She was always the way she was. And I could never seem to catch her eye. 

I suppose it started to bother me a some point. A little.  ...A lot.

I’ve always been tall for my age, so my friends felt it...served them to include me in their basketball games. This was, in truth, absurd. I mean really, I’m a terrible shot and we’re talking middle school here. I was gangly and awkward with no coordination of any sort. I tripped over thin air more than I ever did my own two feet. “BENJI!” I gotta hand it to Roger Higgins. He actually believed I would catch that ball. It hit me square in the chest and bounced away. The other boys groaned. As I trotted after it, the sound of giggling drifted my way. Three girls were sitting along the school building wall. They paid me no mind, nor did they seem to notice the girl sitting a couple feet away, her nose in a book. I froze. Only for a moment, but just enough for the ball to bounce past my reach. It was heading straight for her. I stumbled forward. “Hey! The ball! It—” Rolled right through her and bounced off the wall. I gaped. It rolled back and bumped against my sneaker. The giggling girls were definitely staring at me. Library Girl turned the page in her book.

Part  1  2  3  4