Chapter 2 #2
Damn it, Kayla was right, and I just know she’s never going to let me live it down.
“Okay, let’s see you dance.”
I nod at Ben, the minotaur, taking a position in the middle of the stage.
“Uh…” I don’t usually get stage fright, but standing here before all these guys who have just performed the shit out of tonight — doing really complicated, well-timed routines — makes me a little nervous.
I’ve never auditioned in front of six dudes wearing nothing but leather g-strings before.
“Well hold on,” Leigh interrupts, dragging a chair out onto the stage. She was great as the MC tonight, and truly made the show. She plonks herself down on the chair now, doing jazz hands in the air. “Give me a lap dance.”
“What?” I laugh nervously.
“Come on, that’s not fair to him,” Nate, the werewolf, interrupts with a laugh. “Now you’re just being mean.”
“He’s a trained dancer — there’s no question about that. It’s the chemistry with the audience we need to see.” She grins, and it’s a genuine smile, no hint of teasing in her eyes. “Do you want to copy one of the guys first?”
In the end, I get walked through a couple of variations of a lap dance routine before trying it myself. Leigh wears a small smile as I begin, though she breaks out into a giggle when I’m brave enough to put her hands on my ass before I roll my hips over her.
“That was perfect!” she cries with a clap when I’m done. “We,” she says, gesturing to the guys, “have to discuss it, but I’m going to call you tomorrow, okay? And feel free to message me if you’ve got any questions.”
Five minutes later, I’m walking out into the rain with the hope that I’ve got the job.
Kayla was right about the drive too, it’s only five minutes compared to the long trip back from Haunted.
I stop in at Maccas drive thru on the way home to treat myself, using the vouchers I’ve saved up on my app so the whole thing is free.
I start eating as I drive the rest of the way, burning my tongue on hot fries.
There’s no parking left again, but I’m feeling buoyed by the fact that I’m almost certain tonight was a win, and I pull into the abandoned driveway with only the slightest hesitation. I turn off the engine but remain in the car, scoffing my burgers.
I sense her before I see her.
It’s that same cool feeling on the back of my neck, though it doesn’t scare me so much this time.
Looking up from the meal in my lap to see her face in the same gap in the window is less of a surprise this time around.
I stare at her, slowly bringing my last burger to my mouth to take a bite, only slightly bracing myself as she disappears from the window, just like she did last weekend.
She could have murdered me at any point in the last six days if she wanted to, right? I don’t know why, but after obsessing over the memory of her all week, I have the sudden urge to know what she actually looks like. I want to see her whole face, not just one eye and the bridge of her nose.
When the front door swings open, I don’t even jump this time. I see the faint green glow from her a moment before she steps out.
She is pretty.
It’s a weird fucking thing to think about a ghost, but it’s true.
She’s a pretty woman with an hourglass figure, and — I realise — she’s an elf.
At least I think she is; her hair is tied back in a loose bun and her ears are pointed, but she’s definitely not an orc.
She’s a tiny thing; I think she may be even smaller than Leigh, based on how small she looks compared to her busted-up porch.
She’s still completely see-through, still a greenish glowing ghost, but I think if my life was in danger, I would know it by now?
I shudder, remembering the movie I watched as a kid where a ghost possessed a person, the spirit rushing into their body through their open mouth. Okay, so maybe I am being an idiot right now. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My initial bravery is fading fast, the food in my gut churning in a not-so-great lump, and I’m at a loss as to what to do next. I can’t just sit here all night.
I grab my wallet and keys and open the car door slowly, my eyes never leaving her as I climb out cautiously.
She just stands there, watching, as I walk backwards until I’m no longer on the property.
She keeps watching as I make my way down my driveway, squeezing past Josh’s car, my height meaning I can still easily see her over the fence between us.
It’s the outdoor sensor light switching on as I approach my place that does make me jump with a startled, hissed, “Shit!”
She doesn’t move from her porch, even at that.
She doesn’t talk. Doesn’t do any weird ghost shit.
She just stands there — and she is standing, she has feet, clad in a pair of slightly heeled shoes that look old.
In fact, everything about what she’s wearing — the pale top with a strange collar, and the skirt that falls to her shins — looks like it’s from over a hundred years ago.
World War One. I had to do a play set in that time once, and that’s what she reminds me of, those costumes, which makes sense when I think about it.
She’s probably been dead for a really fucking long time.
But she looks so young, I think as I climb the stairs to my porch, nearly missing a step as I try to keep one eye on her.
Her body has turned now to face me fully, and she’s still staring over the fence at me with the same slightly wary expression, her porch the same height as mine.
She doesn’t look older than twenty-five, and even though I’m scared and confused, there’s a sharp pang in my chest when I realise that this woman is dead.
I turn to her one last time. I don’t even know what I’m doing when I lift a hand in a brief wave as if she’s some regular neighbour, and not… whatever she is.
Her lips move ever so slightly in the faintest smile, but it’s the weight of the sadness in her eyes that stays with me for the rest of the night.