“I’m sure Erin can handle the task on her own,” Principal Wire says. No doubt he’s eager to sidle up to a world-famous pianist. “Don’t you?”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, shuffling away.
As the principal and her mom talk, Mia mimes,Kill me now!
I snicker, vases in hand, and head inside. A line has formed outside the restroom that includes Lindsay and her followers. To avoid any drama, I head to the girls’ locker room. No one will hang out there.
The slow faucet trickle echoes around the emptiness. It takes forever to fill the vases halfway. I put them aside and splash my face with water. I’m not wearing any makeup, despite my mother telling me to apply some blush to make me ‘look more alive’ before we left.
A door slams behind me.
“Hello?” I call, spinning. “Is anyone there?”
A masked figure appears. He’s dressed in black again: a hoodie over a pair of faded jeans, biker boots, and gloves. The Ghostface mask he’s wearing is even more terrifying than the last one.
“I thought we made ourselves clear,” Two says. He’s easily recognizable from the Southern twang in his voice. “No one touches our toy.”
He must have seen me and Nate together.
“We’re always watching,” Two says, reading my mind.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
I’ve been thinking about what to call them since their last visit. I can identify them by their voices, but they’re still abstract figures. Nameless ghosts who want to make my life miserable.
He crosses his arms. “Our names don’t matter.”
“If you’re going to be in my life, then I’d like to know what to call you,” I say, looking into the unreadable white face.
He tilts his head to the side, thinking hard.
“You can call me Eli.”
“Eli?”
The name is ordinary, and he is anything but. Giving him a name instantly humanizes him, making him more than a figment of my imagination. Does that make him any more or less scary?
“And the others?” I prompt. “Are they here too?” I expect them to jump out. “What are their names?”
“It’s just me today. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you,” he says. “If they want to tell you their names, that’s down to them.”
“Why are you here?” I ask.
He takes a step closer, leaving muddy prints on the white tiles.
“To remind you that you’re ours,” he says.
“Are you going to hurt me? Cover me in cum like your friend did?”
Unlike the others, I think I can get Two to talk. He laughs, a deep rumble, and takes something from his pocket. The missing lock of my hair.
“I always have a piece of you with me, Little Ghost,” he says, waving the strand. “But I want to leave you with a lasting memory.”
I step back. My spine presses against the cool sink as he advances, but there’s nowhere to go.
“Turn around,” he commands.
I raise my chin in challenge. “Why should I?”
