There appears to be no one working in the convenience store. That makes sense, it’s late. So late that this is the only place open, in fact.

Aiden and I have spent the last four days at the Ghost Office, trying every different configuration of the stones that we can think of. His camera roll is filling up with dozens of photos of things that haven’t worked. There have been explosions, small fires, more melting, a cracked window that makes the house look even more ramshackle than it did before. Nothing that would qualify as a success, or even a step forward, and yet I’ve been spending every day counting down the minutes until we can go back. We parted for the evening hours ago, and I’ve been laying in bed ever since, unable to sleep. I thought of calling for Kasey, but she’s out walking the line from Aiden’s map again. She likes the warmth.

Instead, I got my coat and left my apartment, intending to lap the block for some fresh air. I resurfaced from my thoughts at a convenience store technically too far from my apartment to be convenient to me, and wandered inside thinking I’d grab a bag of candy or something. My thoughts are too full of Aiden, threatening to burst and spill over. Spending all of this time with him isn’t helping. I can’t help but read too much into every instance of his hands lingering on me, or worse, his eyes. Despite my best efforts, some hopeful voice within me keeps saying: look at how he’s looking at you. Doesn’t it remind you of the way you look at him?

I just keep squashing it back down. But when I’m alone, the dam breaks and my mind floods with thoughts of him. My stomach twists painfully, like it hasn’t since I first realized I liked anyone. Even hours of The X-Files can’t take my mind off of him. His homemade light glinting in his eyes. His low, sweet laugh. The way he’s always grabbing a handful of my hair to mess it up.

So, here I am at who-knows-what hour of the morning, standing at an empty counter, wondering if it’s cool for me to just leave some change and peace out with my box of Sour Patch Kids. I hear the bell jingle over the door and glance over my shoulder to see a woman already heading down one of the aisles, trailing her fingers over the rows of Advil and mini-sized bags of chips. Not an employee, then. I guess I’ll just - put this stuff back.

I gather up the Sour Patch Kids and the bag of M&Ms and head back towards the candy to replace everything with a regretful sigh. Maybe I still have some cookies in my fridge. Ellen helped Kent make them and they are hard as rocks, but whatever.

“Jamie?” someone says, from behind me. “Jamie Keane?”

I turn and find myself facing the woman who had come into the shop after me. She’s got a loose brown ponytail with half of her hair escaping, and a buttoned-up denim shirt rolled up to her elbows. Pale skin with a slight pink blush to her cheeks. A round face and full cheeks.

“Oh my god.” I drop the candy back onto the shelf. “Holy shit!”

“I thought that was you,” she says, smacking my shoulder gently with the back of her hand. “God, I didn’t even recognize you for a second.”

“Well, I definitely recognized you, so don’t worry about that. I totally did, right away.”

She laughs and draws me in for a quick hug.

“It really has been a long time.”

“Seriously. How have you been, Melanie?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Busy.” She smiles brightly.

“You must be, I thought I would be the only one wandering around looking for snacks at this hour.”

“I run my own business, so my hours are absurd,” she explains. “I’ve had more than one night where the sun comes up before I lay down.”

“Wow, your own business? That’s amazing.” I hope she can’t tell how nervous and twitchy I am right now. We didn’t talk much in high school - like, ever - so maybe she won’t be able to read it on me. “So is that why I haven’t seen you around the flower shop? Too busy?”

“I actually send my staff when I need something from the shop.”

“Wow, look at you with a whole staff.”

“Yeah, my huge staff of five,” she laughs. “We’re basically a Fortune 500 company. Honestly, though, it’s a great little team. And they run the business’s Instagram page for me, so I basically owe them my life.” She glances at the handful of candy I’ve just dropped onto the shelf. “What, um. What are you up to, these days?”

“Oh, you know. Still at the flower shop.” And running around with a ghost, and also hunting another one with your ex-boyfriend. “Working for Kent is the same as ever. I basically have another dad now.”

She giggles and nods.

“Yep, that sounds like Kent. So are you up this late because you’re going to a super cool night flower market or something?”

“Wow, that would be incredible. I wish. Honestly, I walked here by accident. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Been there,” Melanie says, smiling. “You want a ride home?”

“Really?”

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’m quitting caffeine and in major withdrawal, so a longer drive with some fresh air actually sounds pretty good right now.”

“Let’s all hope I never decide to quit,” I answer, with a shudder. “I’d turn into the world’s worst bitch.”

“You? Yeah right.” Melanie giggles. “Just let me grab what I came for-” She reaches into the cooler and extracts a frosty cranberry juice - “Are you gonna get the candy? I’ll join you.” She selects a chocolate bar and heads up to the counter. “Where’s the-? Hello?” She raps her knuckles on the glass. “Helllooooo?”

The back door opens and an employee leans out, blinking sleepily.

“Oh, sorry,” Melanie says, tossing her purchases into the back seat of her car a few minutes later. “You can move that stuff.”

In the passenger’s seat is a toolbox and two slim, clear boxes filled with what appears to be blank paper.

“What is this?” I can’t help but ask, as I move it all to the back seat.

“Work stuff. A blend of mine and my fiancée’s.”

“Your-?” I’m caught completely by surprise. I glance at her hand, currently occupied with buckling her seatbelt, and spot it: a circle of gold with a tiny red stone set into the front. “Holy shit! Congratulations.”

“Thanks!” Melanie pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road. “I know, a lot has changed since we’ve seen each other last. Which reminds me... I’m really sorry about Kasey. I heard so late, for some reason. I would have come to her funeral.”

“Thanks for saying that.” My heart twists painfully. Sometimes I forget that Kasey is dead in the real world. I’m glad she’s still here with me, but I had never imagined what it would be like to watch people mourn her.

“You two were such the little pair in high school,” Melanie says, giving me a sympathetic glance in the rearview. “Who have you been hanging out with since she passed? Kent, I guess?”

“Um-”

I contemplate lying to her. No one, I might say, or yeah, Kent, because it’s technically true… But there’s not really a reason to lie, is there? I’m not doing anything wrong, am I?

“It’s going to sound really weird,” I tell her, “But I’ve actually been spending a lot of time with Aiden.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Melanie glances over at me, the surprise clearly written across her face. Her dark eyebrows are raised, and her eyes narrowed. I don’t know her well enough to know what this expression is, but I can tell she didn’t see that coming.

“Aiden,” she repeats.

“Yeah, he - he moved back to town.”

“I know,” she says, flicking on her blinker and turning back to face the road. “He texted me. I’m just surprised you two have been spending time together. I mean, in high school…”

“No, I know,” I cut in quickly. My face is burning: thank god it’s so dark out. “He’s actually really different now.” I hesitate. “Did you say he texted you?”

“Yeah, he basically said he was back in town and that he wanted to talk at some point, if I wanted to. I didn’t respond, which is my auto-setting for exes. He was so toxic, I don’t want him back in my life. I’m sort of shocked you want him back in yours, to be completely honest.”

The pang in my chest surprises me. Up until now, I was imagining a meetup between Aiden and Melanie with pure jealousy. Now, I’m not sure. To think he won’t get a chance to explain himself makes me feel kind of sad.

“I thought you two were like, the perfect couple in high school,” I try, and Melanie nods.

“Yeah, I thought so, too. Hindsight really opens your eyes. Turns out a teenage girl’s standard for what constitutes a perfect boyfriend is ridiculous.” She lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t know why I put up with it for so long. Maybe just cause he’s so cute, or cause the sex was so good…”

I turn away to face the window, my cheeks burning.

“But really,” she continues, “I think it was because I had this feeling he was a sweetheart under it all and I just had to dig it out of him. These days I don’t bother trying to fix people. It should have been his problem all along, not mine.”

“I actually think he’d agree with that,” I tell her, still looking out of the window.

“I finally saw the light when he left town.” She lets out a breath, half a sigh. “When he pulled his worst stunt ever on me.”

“Didn’t he say anything before he went?” My curiosity won’t let me shut up, but Melanie doesn’t seem bothered.

“Oh, he did. That’s not what I’m talking about, him leaving. I knew he always wanted to leave, he was clear about that from day one. I just always assumed I was going with him. When the time came, and he was gearing up to go, I asked him something about our plan, like where we were heading to. He seemed surprised that I ever imagined I was going with him.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yeah, and that’s still not the worst thing.”

“I’m scared to even ask.”

“I’ll never forget this,” she says, taking us into a traffic circle. “I mean, it sounds so small, but… he had written me this poem, once. It was beautiful. There was this line I loved from it, it was something like… in your sleep I’m sending you kisses, or something…”

I swivel to stare at her, my heart suddenly pounding.

“A poem?”

“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t sound like him, right? Anyway, you know what he did? He stole it back. Right before he left.”

“He - that - what?”

“I know,” Melanie says, misreading my expression. “At first I thought I must have lost it. But I kept it in a specific place in my desk and I never moved it, like, never. And I put it together that I had left him in my room alone for a bit during our final conversation, and when I came back the drawer was a little open. Like, barely, and that night I didn’t even think about it. But I searched everywhere and finally figured it out.” She shakes her head. “In a way, I’m glad he did that. It finally snapped me out of it. I just kept thinking, why would he do that? It had to be just to spite me. I mean, there’s no other possible reason I can think of. He left town and didn’t take anything with him, and yet he stole that from me the day before.”

“Jesus. I - wow.” Truly, I’m at a loss for words, but I struggle to sound normal. “I’m really sorry. That sucks.”

“Yeah.” I can see her frowning from my peripheral vision.

“But, you know…” I say slowly, “I don’t even think he expects you to forgive him. I think he just wants to say he’s sorry.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Aiden I know,” she answers.

“He’s not the Aiden either of us knew. Trust me, or I wouldn’t be hanging out with him.”

“He was always the worst to you,” Melanie answers, pulling the car over. “I shouldn’t have sat by and let him.”

“It’s okay. I think we all have stuff we wish we’d done differently from back then.”

“That is very true.” She puts the car in park and turns to face me. “You really buy that he’s changed?”

“I didn’t at first,” I admit. “But the more time I spend with him, the more it’s like… I don’t know. Maybe he found the sweetheart in himself. I think you were right, he had to do it on his own.”

Melanie surveys me with one eyebrow raised.

“Honestly, Jamie, I don’t think I’d believe that from anyone but you. You’re the only other person who got the full old-Aiden experience.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” I tell her. “I just think you’ll be surprised if you talk to him.”

She faces forward for a moment, chewing her lip.

“Fine. I’ll think it over.”

“Cool.” I unstrap my seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride home. It was great to see you.”

“You too.” I close the door after myself, and Melanie leans over the passenger’s seat. “Jamie. Be careful, okay? He’s smarter than you think he is, and sneakier, too. Just - make sure he’s telling you the full truth. It’s a good policy with him.”

I stand watching until her headlights disappear up the street, her words echoing in my ears. I actually know that Aiden isn’t telling me the full truth. He still won’t tell me what he is, exactly, and there’s still a lot I don’t know about him. He’s successfully concealed the fact that he can fucking do magic since - well, at least since he was seven years old, when he decided not to do any to himself.

But I do know that he’s allergic to strawberries. That his aunt raised him. That the corners of his eyes crinkle when he laughs. That his eyes may change colors for a number of different reasons. He’s never been a beer guy. He can make light with his fingertips.

Do I feel like I know everything about him? No. Do I feel like he’s concealing things from me? Strangely… also no. I think he’s just getting used to the feeling of sharing real parts of himself with other people.

I’m happy to wait. I’ll wait patiently until he’s ready to tell me everything. If waiting means spending hours at the Ghost Office, groaning at failed magical experiments, laughing when they go really wrong - well, that doesn’t feel like waiting at all. That feels as easy as breathing. That feels like the thing I look forward to all day.

“Jamie?”

I blink and turn. Kasey is there. She’s watching me with a concerned expression, and only now do I realize that I’m just standing outside of my apartment in silence in the middle of the night, staring at nothing.

“Hey.” My voice wobbles. I clear my throat quickly. “What’s up?”

“I think I figured something out - are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just went for a walk.” I force a smile, and Kasey can clearly tell it isn’t authentic, because her lips twist to the side. “Seriously. What did you figure out?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, honestly. What did you figure out?”

Kasey stares at me suspiciously, but her excitement wins out.

“I’ll show you, can we go to the cemetery? I know it’s late and you’re probably tired, but-”

“No. Let’s go.” I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts, and I can see the eager way Kasey’s hands are bouncing at her sides. Whatever this is, it’s a perfect distraction. “I just have to go get my keys. Is it something to do with your grave?”

“Not mine,” Kasey says, an excited smile spreading over her face. “William’s.”