I tried not to be too smug when I asked Nate how his ghost hunt went.

His pause was so slight that I might have missed it if I wasn’t watching for a reaction. He shrugged. “Nothing happened. A total drag.”

Sure it was. You definitely didn’t run screaming into the night. I had fun telling him my “told you so” and seeing him get irritated. I decided a proper “thank you” was in order for Emelia. This proper thank you turned out to be a can of pop from a gas station vending machine because the bakery across town was closed to fix a plumbing issue.

When I stepped into her house, Emelia flinched and then relaxed. I guess I should've felt bad about our random intrusions. But it wasn’t like she was ever busy, right? The chill sweeping through town with the beginning of autumn deepened and followed me inside.

Emelia must have noticed it, too, because she had on long socks, soft and mismatched, one purple with white flowers, and the other with cows wearing nightcaps. I might not have noticed, but she tugged her loose pant legs down to hide them more.

I took pity and tossed her the can of pop. “Here. For hosting our party.”

She fumbled a catch and said thanks. She was sitting in a circle of textbooks.

I knelt and shuffled through the books. Emelia shifted to sit on her feet in her latest attempt to hide the offending socks from view.

“You’re teaching yourself? Is it hard?” I asked.

“I am used to self-study. I never attended public school until my dad died.”

“Private or homeschool?”

“A little of both.”

That explains a lot, actually. “Why the change?”

“My uncle tried to take care of us for a while, but when funds were low, my mom had to find a job and she enrolled me in school here.”

I shifted, wary that the drip of family history might turn into a tidal wave. “You’re missing your chance. Dropping out of school’s the dream.” I chuckled as I looked around the living room. “Do you even have a TV here?”

She breathed a laugh back to me. “Mother would end me if she found out I was sitting around. She always lectures me about wasting time.”

I can’t explain it, but when she said that, an irritation started growing in me. She was always talking about what her mom says like she’s someone to be admired, but she withdrew Emelia from school and left her. What does she care about wasting Emelia’s life?

“And you think sitting around here secluded is what she wants? Aren’t you just choosing which of her words suits you?” It wasn’t until I saw her eyebrows rise with surprise that I realized I let the edge of annoyance seep into my voice. Why? When did this happen? I couldn’t remember the last time something broke through the buzzing in my consciousness to make me upset.

I almost apologized, but she replied. “Well, I guess that will be her punishment for being gone.” Then she smiled as if that made everything better, but it was nothing like what I saw on Halloween night. My eyelids sank further.

In the silence, she tried to go back to reading while I stared at the open chemistry textbook. She offered me water a minute later, but I muttered something about having to go. By the time I was home, I felt ridiculous more than anything.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jay was in the doorway, holding a notebook.

My backpack felt twice as heavy as usual. I just wanted to struggle upstairs and toss it in the closet in an immature display of frustration that no one had to witness. “M’fine. What’s up?”

“Can you help me with an English assignment?”

“You know I’m not good at that kind of thing. Can’t you ask Mom?”

“They’re both busy with a presentation.”

Yes, my parents are one of those obnoxious couples who work for the same company. I guess I should talk about how they met and rose to power in the same advertising agency. But it works both ways—they don’t care about my life and I don’t care about theirs.

It was, however, hilarious to hear them rehearse saying, “The key to a successful ad campaign is deeply understanding your target demographics on a personal level,” while our daily communication came in the form of a to-do list for us, hastily stuck to the fridge in the morning.

I let my back hit the wall behind me. “Well, what is it?”

“Since I’m in middle school now, they want us to think about what we want to grow up to be, what clubs we want to join in high school.”

I closed my eyes and shrugged. “They say start with what makes you happy, right?”

“Can I get paid to hang out with my friends and get good grades?”

I laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone likes what they do.”

“What if you could get paid to be happy?”

I was hoping he wasn’t going to ask what I wanted to do with my life, but this might’ve been worse. There were things I did out of routine, habits that I didn’t like being interrupted. Certain things annoyed me less than others. Was I ever just happy, though? I had no passions. I didn’t want anything. I was just… living. Waiting from one bell to the next. Talk about a waste of life.

I rubbed my eyes. “Sleeping. Sleeping makes me happy.”

He huffed. “Fine, I’m going.”

I wasn’t going to make it upstairs. I dropped my backpack and sprawled out on the couch in the living room. After scrolling through my phone, I sent Allison a text, asking her if she thought about her plans after graduation.

About thirty seconds later, my phone buzzed and lit up with the message, Is this Dani??

As indicated by the circle at the top of your phone, I sent back.

It’s at the bottom of my phone. R u feeling okay??

Take a breath. Yes I’m fine. I was wondering if we’re wasting our lives you know

There was a longer pause in the flow of texts and then, u were at Em’s today, wrnt you?

screw u.

Also, has she already jumped to chopping off the end of Emelia’s name, too? Is three visits nickname territory already?

My phone buzzed again. Tell Em I say hi

I tossed my phone aside and let my head fall back. Sleeping is indeed the best.

#

I could ignore Allison’s texts, but at school, she hunted me down. “Did you send Em my love?”

I kept walking. “Did you get served a restraining order? Then no, I didn’t.”

“How was she?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I left like ten minutes after I got there.”

She nudged my shoulder. “Bad Dani! So you got upset because she made you think about your wasted life? So childish.”

Not exactly how it went, but not entirely wrong. “I don’t think you’re one to talk.”

She stood in the way, a physical barrier to the blissful zoning out I was charging toward.

I sighed. “I don’t know. She’s just so hypocritical. I would say let her do whatever she wants, but if that’s what she really wants, why does she look so damn miserable all the time?”

Emelia had smiled before. Where did it go?

“I don’t think she’s miserable. Maybe she’s only like that around you.”

“Great. Thanks.” I was indeed missing one more nail in my coffin. Glad we sorted that out.

Maybe she was right, though. The house wasn’t a wreck. She was doing homework, which is more than what I could say.

“Let’s go see her,” Allison said.

“How does ‘She hates being around you’ lead to ‘Let’s go see her’?”

“No, no. You gathered random facts and came to the wrong conclusion. If we go see her, I guarantee she’ll be fine.”

I didn’t want a lecture on reading people from her, of all people. “If you know her so well, why don’t you talk to her?” What is it about being around Allison that made me childish? Oh yeah, guilty by association.

“What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t let you take care of your own problems?”

“Oh, you’re letting me keep part of the control I have on my life? You’re too kind. Fine, let’s go.”

I said that, but we both knew that if I actually didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t have. I didn’t know what led me to climb the hill leading to Emelia’s house, but it was somehow easier to accept if I was under the illusion that I had no choice. Because otherwise… There would be a lot more questions to answer and I carefully constructed my life around not thinking.