“What are you doing over there, Jamie?” Noah calls from across the living room.

It’s not like the guys walked through the garden and into the house quietly. I absolutely should have heard them coming. I think I even vaguely registered Aiden telling Ralph and Noah about how my class officially has a new student.

But I was absorbed in what I was doing, and I looked up way too late to avoid this extremely unfortunate situation.

“Nothing!” I slam my new journal shut and click off my pen. “I was just…”

I trail off at the sight of Noah, Aiden, and Ralph gathered just inside the doorway of the house. Oh, god. This is the lineup that made me burn my first poetry journal, although - Noah wasn’t part of that. And wait a minute, what am I talking about?

My eyes go to Ralph, then Noah, then Aiden. Sage, grey, or blue - only warm eyes look back at me.

I guess honesty is my only choice, anyways.

“I was writing some poetry,” I answer, cringing deeply. “Or - trying to, anyways.”

Aiden, Ralph, and Noah all react differently to this. Aiden’s face lights up into a glowing smile, his blue eyes twinkling with surprise and delight. Ralph pauses, then bites his lip, maybe remembering that moment a long time ago when he heard almost this exact same thing from me. His eyes narrow, like he’s trying to think of how to handle it better this time.

Noah, on the other hand, wasn’t there and doesn’t know anything about it, and he instantly answers:

“Writing poetry? Jesus Christ, Keane. You big giant loser.”

At the same time, Aiden shoots Noah a look like he’s going to murder him, and Ralph smacks his arm.

“Ow!” Noah sputters indignantly, making wounded eyes at Ralph. “What the f-?”

“You three really are brothers,” I groan-laugh. “All three of you had the same instinct, huh? Except this is Noah’s first try.”

“Shut up, dude,” Ralph says sternly, stabbing a finger at Noah. “He can do whatever geek shit he wants, alright? Let him write his poetry!”

“Jamie’s writing poetry?” Raj asks brightly, joining up with the group from behind, the pizza boxes clasped in his arms. “That’s dope, brother. Hey, let me perform it! I’ve only done Shakespeare before, but I bet your poetry is better.”

“Oh, I appreciate it, Raj, but I’d actually really rather not invite that comparison!”

“What are we talking about?” Ripley follows Raj into the house, his green curls blown all out of order. “It’s windy out there. All I heard was Jamie and poetry.”

“Well, now everybody knows.” I sink down in the armchair, press my palms over my eyes, and heave out a deep sigh. “You know what? I’m not a kid anymore, so I don’t give a shit if anyone thinks what I do for fun is lame.”

“He says that, but his face is all red,” Noah laughs, then laughs again when I flash him a middle finger.

“Everyone’s got some poetry in them, Noah.” I get to my feet as the guys all start taking off their shoes and jackets, Tycho nosing around by their ankles. “It just takes the right things to bring the poetry out.”

Noah arches a skeptical eyebrow. “That so?”

“Yes, man, that’s so.” An idea pops into my mind. “Hey, question for the room. Everybody answer at once, please.”

All the guys look over at me curiously, waiting for the question.

“How would you describe the color of Raj’s eyes?”

“Brown,” they all chorus in unison, except for Noah, who says - “Molasses.”

A spike of crimson color instantly goes to his cheeks as everyone else turns to stare at him at once.

“Aw,” Ripley laughs, pressing his paint-stained fingers over his mouth.

The group collectively dissolves into affectionate laughter, except for Raj, who breaks into a giant, radiant grin, and Noah, who whips around to fix me with a murderous glare.

“Jamie, what the fuck!” He throws a hard air punch in my direction. “Way to set up a trap for me!”

Raj adoringly winds his arms around Noah from behind, having handed off the pizza boxes to Ripley. “Molasses, huh?”

“Remind me to kill you later, Jamie.”

“I will not.”

Noah lets out a heavy, anguished sigh, then strides into the living room and picks up one of the Xbox controllers. “However embarrassing that was, at least you’d never catch me writing poetry. Never.”

I open my mouth, but Ralph unexpectedly comes to my defense.

“Of course you wouldn’t, Noosh, because you know it would come out bad. Like, shockingly bad.”

“Yeah, right!” Noah tosses Ralph another Xbox controller, then moves over to make room for Ripley on the couch. “I could write a kick-ass poem, if I wanted to! But I wouldn’t be caught dead doing that, so.”

“I bet I could write a nice love poem for Melanie,” Raj says thoughtfully, dropping down into the other armchair. “If you can’t do it, Noah, that can be my job. We said we would break up husband responsibilities by skill set, anyways.”

“What - no, I can do it!” Noah protests, apparently offended. “Matter of fact, I could do it way better than you!”

Raj gives him an indignant scowl.

“Oh, really, bruh? Because I had something about how her cheeks get all rosy, and - roses - some kind of comparison - thing - with the roses-”

“Her cheeks don’t get rose red, it’s more like - like strawberry, or-” Noah snatches my journal up from the coffee table and opens it to a blank page. “Someone hand me a pen.”

“There goes Noah’s unshakeable conviction that he would never in his life write a poem.” Aiden huffs out a rumbling laugh, checking his watch. “It only took - oh, five seconds.”

“You’re going down, Raj,” Noah says threateningly, stabbing my pen in his direction.

“Do what you want, dude. I’m the real winner in this situation, regardless.” Raj settles back against the armchair and folds his arms over his chest, breaking into a grin. “Now I know what you were thinking about when we made molasses cookies last week.”

“Aw,” Ripley laughs again, as Noah drops his blushing face into my journal.

Aiden wraps an arm around my shoulders. “What are you doing, Jamie?”

“Texting Melanie. Just want you to know that your husbands are in my living room having a heated argument about who could write you the best love poem. And, send.”

“No,” Noah groans, his voice muffled against my journal. He lifts his head resentfully, then blinks down at the blank pages. “Hey, what-? There’s nothing even in here. You haven’t written anything down yet, Jamie?”

"Yeah, well - I said I was trying! I didn’t say it was going amazing.”

Noah dissolves into groaning laughter and tosses the journal back onto the coffee table. “At least we’re all complete shit at this. Except maybe Raj? He’s the only one who actually had an idea.”

“I have ideas,” I groan helplessly. “It’s just… it’s hard. I’m gonna keep trying, though.”

Aiden breaks back into a warm smile and gently ruffles my hair. I turn to face Raj and Ripley, blushing a little, eager to change the subject.

“Hey, you two - let us know when you start work on the board showroom, by the way! Aiden and I are available to help, although I’m sure we didn’t need to tell you that.”

“Thanks, brother!” Raj says brightly, enthusiastically. “We can’t fucking wait to get started. We’ve got a lot of plans. We’ll have to round up the whole exhibition team again!”

“The only problem is the place next door,” Ripley sighs regretfully, running a hand through his green curls. “Other than that, everything is perfect.”

Ralph had been scrolling through the games library of my Xbox, but now he looks over at Raj and Ripley.

“Wait, what’s the matter with the place next door? You guys have to let me know about any problems you’re having, if you want me to come up with a solid business plan for you.”

“We know, but it's not exactly a problem, it’s…” Raj runs a frustrated hand over his face. “It’s just an empty storefront, right next to our place. There are a few empty storefronts around, actually, and it kind of makes the area look dead. Ripples and I both think it would look better even if just the building right next to us was occupied. We called up the realtor on the listing and asked if they’d had any interest in it, and she said no.”

“It’s part of why we were able to get our place so cheap,” Ripley adds, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. “And it’s not a huge problem, but still.”

Raj nods at Noah. “Noah thinks that we should offer to fix up the place next door for free. Give it some more curb appeal, so it might stand a better chance at attracting a business.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Noosh,” Ralph murmurs, to a surprised smile from Noah. “But like you guys said, there’s a bunch of empty storefronts around. The problem might not be the condition of the place. It’s probably just that there are no businesses looking for space there.”

I’ve fallen quiet, suddenly lost in thought. Something is occurring to me, but I’m not sure what it is, yet. Didn’t someone say something to me that could relate to this?

It strikes me all at once. I look up sharply at Aiden, and see that the same thought has occurred to him. Our eyes meet in understanding.

I turn back to Noah, Raj, and Ripley. “You said you guys are willing to do some free work to fix up the place, if that’ll fill it?”

They all shrug their shoulders in agreement. Aiden and I look at each other again.

“Would it be bad for business if the thing next door was a bookshop mostly about unsolved mysteries and occult stuff?” Aiden asks Ralph.

His blonde eyebrows arch all the way up, and he exhales out his answer on a soft laugh. “Um… considering the type of punk-ass kids the board showroom is bound to attract, I’d say no.”

Ripley just sat up on the couch, his eyes lighting up like he figured something out. “Hang on. Are you talking about the bookshop in Greenrock I did the billboard for?”

“Oh shit, that’s right - that was Transgressive!” Noah shakes his head in disbelief. “I didn’t make the connection! Jesus, Ripples, that billboard was sick!”

“Thanks, man! And Jamie - are you serious?” Ripley stares at me with big, hopeful eyes. “That bookshop is looking to move? The owner is that really nice old guy I met at the exhibition opening, right? Floyd Little?”

“Yes, and he - already figured out that you’re Transgressive,” I admit, with a wince. “I swear we didn’t tell him! He used to be an investigative journalist-”

“Jamie, that’s perfect! Especially if he already knows, that’s-” Ripley flashes an excited grin at Raj, then quickly turns back to me. “He needs a new space for his bookshop?”

“Yeah.” Aiden huffs out an affectionate laugh. “He’s moving in with his partner, and the two of them are merging their bookshops together into one mysteries, murder, and occult bookshop. It’ll be them, their dog, and their turtle.”

Ripley stares at Aiden in wide-eyed silence, then closes his eyes and slowly closes his fingers around Raj’s wrist.

“Okay, how do we get these guys into the space next door?” Raj leans forward like he’s ready to get up and do it right now. “We’ll fix it up for them! Tell them we’ll make sure everything is sound, and we’ll be right next door if they need help with anything else-”

“And tell Floyd I’ll do another sign, like the last one! I mean, obviously it can’t be billboard-sized, but - no, you know what? It could be pretty big, if I paint it on our side wall, Raj!”

“Yes. Yes!” Raj is rapidly sinking into his thoughts. “Actually - do they have a name for the new bookshop yet?”

“Little Shin,” Aiden answers.

Raj stares at Aiden, then runs a hand over his face, his knee bouncing excitedly.

“He’s got something cooking in there,” Noah laughs, watching him with fond eyes full of silver. “Any second now, he’s gonna jump up and-”

“Okay!” Raj springs to his feet, pulling Ripley up by his arm. “Planning session, Ripples! Let’s go! Aiden, Jamie, do me a favor and find out if Floyd has found a new place already, or if he’s still looking!”

“I’ll text him,” Aiden laughs, getting out of the way as Raj rushes for the kitchen, pulling Ripley in his wake.

“Hey.” Ralph turns to catch my eye. “Noah gave me the flyer for the photography exhibition. Do you guys all want to go this weekend? I can drive us there.”

“Oh, I’m glad you want to go, man! We’re definitely down, but it would have to be next weekend. Aiden and I have ghost-hunting stuff going on this weekend.”

We have to make up for our last attempt at going to Port Sitka, and investigate the fallen farmhouse.

Both Ralph and Noah sit up, staring at me with close attention. Normally everyone laughs and rolls their eyes when Aiden and I talk about the ghosts, but things are different now.

Ralph glances in the direction of the kitchen, keeping his voice soft. “Ghost hunting? Really?”

“Yeah,” Aiden answers softly. “We’re scoping out an abandoned farmhouse for ghosts of moments. They’re a different type of ghost from the two that hang out with us.”

“Shit, man,” Noah says, after a brief, dazed silence. “Feel like I’m trying to adjust the layout of my reality, but I can only do it in tiny little pieces, one at a time.”

I let out a sympathetic laugh. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”

“Ghosts,” Noah says blankly. “Real ghosts, you know?”

“Ghosts that gave Aiden the combination to my safe.” Ralph looks over at Aiden, scratching Tycho’s furry ears. “It was driving me up the goddamn wall that I couldn’t figure out how you did it. Now I know that you cheated, so.”

“It wasn’t cheating,” Aiden protests, then winces. “Alright, it kind of was, but-”

“Nah, nevermind,” Ralph cuts in hastily. He looks uncomfortable all of a sudden, his thoughts maybe going to why Aiden had to open the safe in the first place. “I’m - I’m actually ready to call that fair play, given the situation.”

Aiden looks relieved, but Noah looks faintly alarmed.

“Hey, listen,” he says, his grey eyes flitting back to me and Aiden. “You guys don’t need me and Ralph to go with you to the abandoned farmhouse full of ghosts, do you? Because here’s the thing: I don’t want to.”

Aiden huffs out a laugh, shoving Noah’s shoulder. “Thanks for your fearless support, Noosh, but no. We actually need you to stick around here, in case there’s a rescue.”

“We’re working on a communication system for that, by the way,” I add. “For now, just make sure to keep an eye on your phone this weekend, please.”

Ralph and Noah both nod, growing serious.

“We’ll do that,” Ralph murmurs, keeping his voice quiet. “But generally speaking, I don’t think we should talk about this kind of stuff unless we’re actually alone. Not until you’re ready to tell Ripley and Raj, Aiden. Every time we do this, it’s gonna look more and more suspicious if we get caught-”

He breaks off abruptly as Raj and Ripley come out of the kitchen, bright-eyed with excitement.

Raj glances between us. “What are you guys talking about?"

“Nothing,” Ralph says breezily. He sits back against the couch and starts to flick through the games library again. “What were you guys talking about?”

Ripley breaks into a hopeful smile. “We’ve got a plan!”

The conversation moves away from ghost hunting and onto the plan, but Noah leans over and covertly swats my shoulder.

“Hey, man,” he whispers, with a diabolical grin. He holds out his tattooed hands, then does a few waves with his fingers, a little spooky-ghost gesture. “Have fun with the farmhouse spirits.”