A man is staring right at me, backlit by sickly fluorescent lights.
Jay.
We stand there, gazes locked, before he breaks the spell, turning around quickly and disappearing into the depths of the house.
Oh no he fucking doesn’t.
I don’t even think twice. As quietly and quickly as I can, I head for the door and down the stairs until I’m bursting out onto the front lawn. I’m about to head straight over to the Knightlys when I see a man walking down the street away from the houses. He’s wearing a dark jacket, hands shoved in the pockets, taking long strides, his head down.
I’m barefoot in just a skimpy white t-shirt and my boy-short underwear (with sugar skulls on them, naturally) and yet I couldn’t care less because I hustle over to the street and then start running down it after the man.
“Hey!” I call out, my bare feet echoing on the pavement.
He stops, the glow of the streetlight illuminating him in dim orange. He doesn’t turn around.
“Look at me,” I tell him, stopping a few feet away. “Tell me what’s going on. Who are you? Why were you in the Knightlys’ house?”
“I’m a family friend,” he says, his voice low.
“That’s what they all say,” I tell him, taking a step closer. Whatever fear I had is gone. I want answers above all else and I want them now.
“Turn around,” I tell him.
He doesn’t. A hot breeze whistles past, ruffling his hair, making it glint blood red in the streetlight.
I put my hand on his arm, somewhat surprised to find him solid, and pull back, turning him around.
He stares down at me and I’m suddenly very aware of how real he is, how tall and well-built, like he’s about to pull up a tree by the roots. The sharp bones of his face create shadows in this light, his eyes looking deeper, darker, the hollows beneath his cheekbones carved out.
He’s eyeing me warily, not quite afraid just . . . unsure.
I’m not sure how I look to him, standing here in my underwear. Probably a little of the same.
“Are you a ghost?” I ask him.
Though his face remains stern I see a spark of humor in his eyes. “Your first question is if I’m a ghost? Usually most people leave that conclusion to last.”
“You appeared and disappeared from my bedroom,” I tell him, surprised at how easy it is to talk to him in real life. “You appear in my dreams. And you should know by now I am not most people.”
He raises his chin, not breaking his gaze. “Definitely not.”
“So,” I go on, “are you a ghost? Because believe me, I wouldn’t be surprised. It would be the only thing lately that makes any sense.”
His mouth quirks up in a wane smile. “No. I’m not a ghost.”
“Did I really meet you at the wedding?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“Was I the only one who could see you?”
Oh god, was I walking around talking to myself the whole time?
He gives a slight shake of his head. “No. People could see me. See us. I’m not invisible.”
“Except when you want to be,” I point out.
Just then I hear a door close and Dex’s voice. “Ada?”
I turn around to see him jogging across the lawn to the road. Though he’s distractingly shirtless, at least he had the sense to pull on some pajama pants.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice in a hush down the quiet street.
Oh shit, this whole thing in the bedroom is going to happen again. Jay is going to disappear and I’m going to look like I’m talking to no one.
But when I turn around, Jay is still standing there, albeit a bit stiffer now, on alert.
“Are you okay?” Dex asks as he comes closer, brows lowered as he takes us in, like a prowling dog. Which is a good thing because for once I know he sees him too. And from the edge to his voice I know he’s about to go nuts on Jay if I don’t say something. “Who is this?”
“I’m fine,” I say quickly. “This is Jay.”
Dex stops, peers at Jay with a brow raised. “The metrosexual ghost?”
“Not a ghost,” Jay corrects him quickly.
“Just a guy that shops at Sephora, then? That’s okay, I get it.”
I would tell Dex to shut up but the fact is we’re both up to speed. He knows about as much as me now.
“No,” Jay says, clearly unamused.
“So,” Dex says, folding his arms and looking between the two of us, “what is this? I mean, why are you standing in your underwear and talking to a stranger in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night?”
“None of your concern,” Jay says, his jaw firmly set.
Dex flashes him a caustic smile. “Oh really? None of my concern? Right.” He looks at me. “Just say the word, Ada.”
I roll my eyes. “You can’t just go around beating up every boy who talks to me.”
Dex scoffs, gesturing to Jay with his chin. “This ain’t a boy, sister, this is a man. And a ginger one at that.” A strange look of clarity comes over Dex’s eyes as he says the words.
“What?” I ask him.
Jay is watching Dex carefully and I feel like something is transpiring between them, I just don’t know what.
“Maybe you should run along,” Jay says.
Dex stiffens, his eyes taking on this round, half-crazed look that I’ve seen way too many times before. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”