“I have not told him that, no.”
“Oh, well, what are you waiting for? Tell him,” Everett says, overlapping with Charlie’s, “Tell me what?”
Gretchen sighs. “Everett would like you to know that he is very handsome.”
“Um,” Charlie says.
Everett huffs, “Why’d you say it like that? That I wanted him to know. Now he’ll think I’m vain.”
“Youarevain, babe.”
“Now tell him—” Everett starts, but is interrupted by Charlie dropping his spoon into his bowl with a clang.
“I don’t know if I was ready for this,” he says, dabbing at a droplet of broth that hit the table. “Now that I know he’shere... it’s really fucking unnerving to watch you talk to him.” He rubs his hands over his face. “Sorry. Sorry. I’ll be okay. I just need a minute.”
Gretchen has taken it for granted that, no matter how absolutely bananas this all is, at least she canseeEverett. She knows where he is, can communicate with him. How would it feel to find out that, since you were a young child, you’ve been under random surveillance by someone you will never formally meet or talk to? That has to be more than a little disconcerting.
“Do you think it might help you acclimate to all of this if you could interact with him directly in some way? Would that help you process that he’s really here?” she asks.
“I... I don’t know. What would that even entail?” Charlie asks.
“Well, hecantouch things. It just takes a lot of energy and he disappears for a while afterward. It’s not something he could do all the time or anything, but right now, if it would make you feel better, I’m sure he could tap your arm or something as a kind of ‘hello.’ Right, Everett?”
The ghost groans. “Ugh, Gretch, do I have to? I just went to the Nowhere last night and itsuuuucked.”
She gives him a look that brooks no further argument. Gretchen missed her calling as a tough-but-fair middle school teacher, because she’s gotten that look down pat over the last few weeks.
“Fiiiine,” Everett concedes, hopping off the table and going to stand behind Charlie, stretching his fingers out like he’s a concert pianist about to take the stage. “Where does he want it?”
“Don’t make it weird,” she admonishes before turning back to Charlie. “So, do you want him to touch you?”
“I... guess? Maybe? Does it... hurt?”
“A little. I get painfully cold whenever he so much as brushes against me, and it’s even more intense when he actively touches me. But I also might be more sensitive to it than most people.”
Charlie takes a moment to consider this. “Okay,” he says at last. “We can try it.”
“Where would you like him to—”
“Surprise me.” He sounds almost annoyed, which Gretchen is starting to recognize means he’s actually nervous.
“Whenever you’re ready, Ev.”
“See you later, I guess,” Everett grumbles, before reaching out slowly toward Charlie’s face. He boops him on the nose.
Everett disappears immediately, and Charlie jerks his head back, surprised to have been touched on his face of all places.
“Holy fuck,” he gasps. “Holy.Fuck.”
Gretchen reaches for his hand across the table. “You okay?”
“I guess. A little cold. A lot... freaking out.”
“That’s okay. Freak out all you need to.”
“I think... I might have felt him before? Once when I was a kid, it felt like someone poked me while I was playing pool alone downstairs, but I figured... And he’s gone now? He... what did you call it? He poofed?”
“Yeah. It seems to be the more energy he uses, the longer he’s gone, and all he did was tap you, so he should be back soon.” Gretchen returns to her soup. “But like, last night, when he broke that lamp, he was gone for almost half an hour.”
