“Prince?" Joanna Moss calls as Princeton rushes for the door. "It's dinner time, where are you going?”

“I'm done with homework, gotta go! Love you mom, I'm late!”

They were supposed to meet at five, and it's almost half past. Prince seizes his bike from the side of the house, hops on and pedals with passion, brown hair fluffing in the crosswind.

Willow Road is Prince’s favorite street in the whole world, just off the beaten path in a very lush and green neighborhood. Lining the street are rows and rows of old, charming homes, white picket fences, flowery gardens, and warm, green lawns. The very end of the street is atop a steep hill, and the vibrancy and life of the rest of the street does not extend to it.

The foliage is dry and dead, the air hot and stale, and there are whispers on the air he cannot explain.

Rose and Felix are waiting for him at the base of the hill, where the grass turns to straw and the setting sun scorches the raw dirt. They look very awkward; Rosario is short and beefy, with cropped hair and acorn eyes, and Felix is tall and skinny, with blond hair that catches the light. Prince knows Rose can come off as overbearing, domineering, and somewhat of a jerk, but he’s a good friend.

Prince chalks Rose's attitude up to the fact that he has five older brothers and no sisters.

Still, as mean as Rose can be, he’s trying really hard to be nice to Felix.

“So, uh, this place is haunted, huh?” he asks, a nervous edge to his voice. “How do you know? Your dad thinking about coming here?”

Felix only shrugs.

“Jesus, Prince!” Rose cries, and Prince dismounts his bike. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! You’re late, dude.”

“It’s a long road,” he replies, amused. “I hardly snuck up. Hey, Felix.”

Felix offers him a shy smile. “Hi.”

They make their way up the hill on foot, walking their bikes at their sides. The house at the top is absolutely the definition of haunted. It’s made entirely of wood, with old, peeling paint, a creaky front porch, old, opaque windows, and a pungent mystery odor.

“What is that?” Rose mumbles.

“Mothballs,” Felix explains.

They enter through an unlocked door at the rear of the house which leads directly into the kitchen. A heavy, grey layer of dust coats everything in sight, from the counters to the tiled floors. Strangely, though the air is thick and the grime deep, the house is very clean. There isn’t a pot, pan, photograph, or anything else in sight.

“This place is creepy,” Prince blurts.

“Cool, huh?” Felix agrees.

Rose says nothing, and Prince catches him shivering.

“Wanna go upstairs? It’s the weirdest place.”

Prince doesn't get spooked easily, but he's not a skeptic, especially due to his unusual circumstances. He’s aware that, technically, he is impossible. But technically, so are ghosts, and he likes to think if he can be two people at once, ghosts can live in old houses on top of tall hills.

The upstairs is like the kitchen, covered in blankets of dust and dirt, yet not a personal item in sight. There’s not even furniture, and while Rose is shaking in his boots, Prince is beginning to feel like something is watching him.

He clears his throat, and Rose jumps. “Er, Felix,” he begins, “you’ve been here before, right? Why’s it so…?”

“Empty?” He chuckles, opens a bedroom door. “The family was all packed up and ready to move out, but I guess they never left.”

Rose whimpers. “Why? What happened to them?”

“I dunno.” Against the far wall of the bedroom hangs a single mirror, the width of broad shoulders and the height of a toddler. It’s the only thing that isn’t dusty. Felix points to it. “That’s the only thing they left. Isn’t it creepy?”

Rose is breathing hard, and Prince can’t help but find it a little funny. “How does your dad do this for a living?” Rose hisses, feet firmly planted in the hallway.

“Maybe your mom is right, Rose,” Prince teases, cuffing a hand on Rose's shoulder. “I don’t think you should watch Ghost Docs alone.”

Felix is smiling, and Prince thinks it might even look a little smug. “I’ve seen almost every episode,” he reveals. “Honestly, I don’t think most of the houses are really haunted, but this one seems like it would be. Anyway, you see enough of them, and it starts to get old. I don’t really believe in ghosts.”

The mirror shatters.

Shards and chunks of glass litter the hardwood floors, some bits catching the light filtering through the windows. It almost looks like sand is pouring through a sieve, the grains sparkling on the way down.

Rosario is the first one out the door, followed closely by Felix.

Clover only weeks ago had a class on heat transfer and thermal changing, and while logically she knows there is a scientific explanation for glass shattering spontaneously, Prince is terrified, and rages down the stairs after them.

The back door slams shut behind them, and they jump on their bikes. A slew of foul words tumbles from Rosario’s lips, and the three of them pedal down the hill at top speed, back into the shaded part of Willow Road. They don’t stop until they’re in front of Prince’s house fifteen minutes later.

“Jesus Christ,” Rose hisses. “You were right! That house is haunted! It’s fucking haunted!”

“That was scary,” Prince agrees, ditching his bike against the garage. “But also kind of cool.”

“No, that was not cool, Prince, we almost died!”

“I’m pretty sure I saw something behind you in the mirror before it broke,” Felix whispers.

Rose’s tanned, round face goes ashen, all the color drained. Prince can’t help it; he bursts out laughing.

“Not funny,” Rose says through his teeth.

Prince only laughs harder. Even Felix elicits a deep, throaty chuckle. “It was fun, anyway,” Felix says. “I really like old buildings, and I’ve seen that mirror a dozen times. Maybe the ghost just really hates you, Rosario?”

He’s speechless, blanched white, horrifies, and Prince sighs fondly. “I don’t know about you two,” he says, “but I don’t think I want to sleep alone tonight. You wanna stay over?”

Rosario shivers and nods, and Felix catches Prince’s eye, smiles. “Thanks,” he says, and it’s deeper than that, a more grateful meaning.

Princeton smiles back. “Anytime, Felix.”