Pink-hair led the way in silence with her earbuds tucked tightly into each ear to block out me and the rest of the world. I kept my word and was quiet. I was hoping to get on her good side, but she didn’t acknowledge it. The whole town was up, and the sounds of motors, car horns, and cellphone conversations filled the mountains, but pink-hair carried on through the cacophony with her eyes down and her thoughts secret.

As we turned a corner, more car horns caught my attention, and I realized there was an accident in the intersection. It looked bad. An ambulance was slowly approaching, and I thought I heard a firetruck’s siren in the distance. A guy at the scene looked our way. His blonde hair blew in the wind, with black smoke trailing behind it, and his eyes searched the distance. I knew he couldn’t see me, but I still turned away. I didn’t want to speculate about what could have happened and honestly, I didn’t want to see another dead body for a while.

Another turn and we were on a quiet street that ended at the Star riverbank. The dark water flowed lazily but made a sizable barrier between Silverbrook and the mountains. I admired it for a moment and then watched as pink-hair stopped at the last house on the left and walked up the driveway. I caught up and followed her into the house.

It was a blue one-story bungalow. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but being right next to the water was pretty cool. The interior was what you’d expect from a university student’s house: second-hand furniture mixed with posters and framed photos, but with a dash of kawaii. Was I surprised to see cute stuffed animals, smiling donuts, and unicorns? Yes, yes I was.

“Who this?” A girl in a tank top and silk pajama pants asked from the couch. It had been such a ridiculous morning, I hadn’t realized she was talking about me.

“I don’t know.” Pink-hair shrugged and then disappeared into the kitchen.

The girl, a smoking hot girl with long black hair and dark skin, stared at me. I stared back. I didn’t know what else to do.

A spoon clattered against ceramic and I looked up to find pink-hair eating a bowl of cereal. Between bites, she said, “What is your name anyway?” She leaned against the wall as she ate.

“I, uh, Darren. She—she can see me?” I stammered.

“Where you pick this one up?” The girl on the couch asked with a touch of an accent as she stretched out across the cushions. I tried to keep my jaw from dropping.

Pink-hair ate the last couple of bites of her cereal before answering, “Darren, this is Cheetoh. Cheetoh, Darren, and I’m Cecile. There, one big happy, undead family.”

I blanched. Undead? I looked from one to the other.

“Oh, don’t let her looks fool you. She only wishes she was a student,” Cecile said with an eye roll as she disappeared down the main hallway.

“Pshhh,” Cheetoh sneered. “She is always like this. You were better off dead.”

What the hell was going on? And what kind of name was Cheetoh?