"The bathrooms are down there."

    Lucas pointed to a short hallway to the right of the door. I reminded myself that there was no way anybody could know I was here, in a retro diner sitting on the corner of Neglect Ave and Poverty St. Obviously, my instincts were malfunctioning, so I ignored that feeling of being watched and walked briskly into the ladies' room.

    It was a depressing little restroom with gray brick walls, a gray concrete floor, and two gray stalls. A small sink, from which there was a steady staccato drip, stood beneath a smudged and cracked mirror. The light scent of pine cleaner hung in the air, and a draft gave me chills. I chose the first stall and finally emptied my bladder. When I finished, I tried to open the door, but no matter how hard I pulled, it simply wouldn't budge. 

    I gave up and crouched down, squeezing between the toilet and the door, and crawled underneath. Once I was on the other side, the door swung open, and I heard a woman laugh. I checked the other stall and looked all around, but there was no one. It was just my imagination, I told myself as I washed my hands. 

    I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My appearance had not improved, and in many ways, had actually gotten worse. My skin was as pale as death, making my freckles stand out more, and my eyes, small and squinty under normal circumstances, became smaller and squintier still with fatigue. At this moment, I looked as if I had no eyes at all, just two dark, lightly lashed slits where my eyes should have been. 

    Nothing could be done about it now, but I hoped to hell something could be done about this headache. I pulled a few napkins from the dispenser and ran cold water on them. Then I pressed them against my forehead. The dull thud was calmed, but not vanquished, for a few brief seconds. I threw the napkins away and looked up. 

    A woman stood behind me, the same woman I had seen outside my car window. She was transparent, and her image flickered like an old celluloid film. Her red dress was dotted with small white flowers. It was long and loose, but the bottom half was stiff and dark as if a liquid had stained it and dried it. Initially, her expression was pleasant, but the serene smile quickly faded. She narrowed her eyes and glared at me. Then she opened her mouth in that unnaturally wide manner, and I knew she was about to scream. I turned and ran out of the door, crashing into Lucas.  

    He caught me and asked, "Is something wrong?"

    I pushed him away and dried my hands on my jacket. "No, why would anything be wrong?"

    "You came tearing out of that bathroom like a bat out of hell." He stepped closer to the door and cocked his head. "You heard her, didn't you?"

    "Heard who?"

    "Singing Susie, our very own bathroom ghost."

    "I didn't hear any singing."

    "Yeah, right, okay. Janie said our food is almost ready. You definitely want to eat Mac's grilled cheese while it's still hot. It just isn't the same at room temperature."

    I followed him into the dining area, and we sat at a small, round table for two. The place wasn't exactly hopping. I counted a total of two other customers: an old man at the counter and a goth girl at a corner table. 

    "Is it always this dead in here?" I asked.

    "Yeah, pretty much." Lucas picked up his fork and absently twirled it. "I don't know how Mac stays in business. I mean, it's a Saturday afternoon, and we're the only two customers."

    "Well, almost," I said.

    "What do you mean?"

    "There's the old guy at the counter and that girl in the corner."

    "Where?"

    "I just told you where, Numb-nuts. There and there."

    I pointed at them, and Lucas turned to look, then turned back to me and dropped his fork.

    "All right, your grease-laden, cholesterol-filled food is here!"

    The waitress stumbled out of the kitchen, wearing platform shoes that were cute, but impractical, carrying our food and drinks on a tray that wobbled precariously as she walked towards us. Lucas helped to move the plates and glasses from tray to table, then the waitress pulled up a chair and sat between us. 

    Her dark hair was streaked with pink and pulled into ponytails. She wore elaborate eye makeup, a blend of silver and lilac eyeshadows with thick liner that curved up into cats' eyes. She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, Lucas?"

    "I already told you. She's just a friend who wasn't feeling well, so she crashed at my place last night. Nothing more. Isn't that right?"

    He looked to me for backup, but I had just taken a bite of the most delicious grilled cheese I'd ever had, buttery and crispy with the perfect ratio of parmesan, cheddar, and mozzarella. All I could manage was a nod.

    "I'm not buying it, Lucas." She turned to me and smiled. "I'm Janie, by the way. And you are?"

    I had just taken another large bite and couldn't answer. She looked at Lucas, and he stammered before answering, a rookie mistake.

    "Emily. This is my friend, Emily."

    "What's her last name?"

    "Capulet."

    "Capulet?" Janie laughed. "Like in Romeo and Juliet? Lucas, you are the worst liar ever!" 

    "Fujiki!" A gruff voice called out from the kitchen. "I don't pay you to gossip. Go clean something!"

    "I cleaned everything this morning!"

    "Clean it again!"

    Janie rolled her eyes as she stood. "I have to go; the Grumpstapo is watching. But as soon as I'm off, I'm stopping by your house, Lucas, and you're going to spill all the tea."

    "There's no tea to spill," he said. 

    "Yeah right." Janie dropped her voice to a whisper. "Don't worry about the bill. It's on the house."

    "No, it isn't!" Mac shouted from the kitchen. "And stop calling me The Grumpstapo!"

    "How can his hearing be that good?" Janie asked. "I mean, he's ancient! He's gotta be at least fifty!"

    "Fifty-two!" Mac shouted. "Now get back to work!"

    Janie took a pen from her apron pocket and wrote, 'It's on the house' on a napkin, winked, and walked away.   

    Lucas began eating his sandwich, but I had already finished my sandwich and fries. As I sipped my soda, I noticed he was staring at me.

    "What?" I asked.

    "Hmm?"

    "You're staring at me. It's creepy."

    "I'm trying to figure you out."

    "Don't bother. As soon as I finish this soda and get my hands on some aspirin, I'm out of here."

    "Oh! I totally forgot!" He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an amber pill bottle. "My friend dropped this off while you were asleep, in case you had any pain."

    I grabbed the bottle and fought with the child-proof cap until I won. 

    "He said to take one every six hours with food. Don't operate any heavy machinery, and if you develop shortness of breath, trouble swallowing, or heart palpitations, contact your healthcare provider immediately."

    "I can't believe you're just now remembering this."

    "Sorry, but I was a little distracted, what with trying to find a priceless family heirloom and all."

    I chased two pills with a gulp of soda. "Well, it's been...interesting, but I'm outta here." 

    "Did you take two pills? You're only supposed to take one!"

    "If one pill is good, then two is even gooder."

    "That's not how it works."

    "Well, I'm not dead yet, so it works for me."

    I was about to stand, but Lucas placed his hand over mine.   

    "Wait," he said. "You can't go yet."

    For a moment, I just stood there, wondering why I didn't shake his hand off and leave. I had my pills and a full stomach. There was no reason to stay. 

    But I was curious, so I asked, "Why not?"    

    "You know those other customers you saw? They aren't really there. I mean, they are really there, but you're the only one who can see them."

    Finally, I shook my hand free and stood. "What are you talking about? They're sitting in plain sight!"

    "No, they aren't. Take a good look at them. Not a glance, but a really good, long look."

    "Fine, but this is stupid, and they're gonna think I'm some kind of weirdo."  

    I looked at the girl. She was a typical goth teenager: wearing all black, dyed black hair pulled into a messy knot, and thick black eyeliner and mascara. She stared at the empty table, oblivious to the outside world. But there was something odd about her. She flickered, just like the woman in the restroom.

    I turned to face the old man at the counter. He wore a dapper gray suit, a red bow tie, and a carnation on his lapel. He looked back at me and smiled. He didn't flicker, but he was surrounded by a soft, golden glow.  

    I turned back to Lucas. "What is this? Some kind of prank? Are they holograms? Mirrors? Do you have this all set up to make a fool of out-of-towners? Whatever it is, I don't have time for it! See ya around!"

    I flipped him off as I walked out the door. I actually thought he would chase after me. 

    But he didn't. 

     And honestly? I was just the teeniest bit disappointed, though I couldn't say why.