Chapter 1
Pete
Two years ago.
“What do you mean you don’t want a party?” Mom asked, looking all confused. We were sitting in the kitchen, eating her homemade apple pie, just the two of us.
I sighed. “Not everyone wants a big party for their sixteenth birthday, Mom.” I wasn’t big on crowds and I felt like I should finally start speaking up about it.
“But what about Mike?”
I rolled my eyes. “He’ll come regardless if we’re having a party or not.” My big brother, Mike, was in college and only visited a few times a year.
She was the one sighing now. “I just wanted one last party before you’re all grown up too.
” She still hadn’t gotten used to Mike being gone, and I couldn’t fault her for it, since it had been the three of us since our father left when I turned two.
“Maybe I’ll just get a cat or something,” she muttered and stuffed her mouth with pie, truly looking like she was considering it.
“You know I like cats,” I grinned, eating a spoonful myself. My phone dinged and I pulled it out to see a text from my best friend, Dylan.
Dylan: Game?
Me: 5 min
I didn’t want to leave Mom in a rush. She had made the pie for us to enjoy together, and I liked spending time with her.
She was usually busy working her ass off, paying for Mike’s college and our house.
It wasn’t easy when she was on her own. I was starting work with her in just a month and was so excited to finally train to become a medium.
It hadn’t been easy to convince her, since she wanted me to wait until I turned twenty before getting started, but I was too eager to begin.
I wasn’t allowed to be a true medium until I turned eighteen, so I would simply be in training for two years before getting a work partner.
As soon as I’d inhaled the last crumbs, I did the dishes and went to my room.
Dylan and I had become obsessed with a new game, which wasn’t anything new.
Being the competitive spirit that I was, finding a best friend that was just as competitive was a feat.
How we continued to be best friends was a mystery to my mom and our other friends, to us too, to be honest. But winning against Dylan felt better than winning over anyone else, because I knew how much he hated losing—as much as I did.
Whenever he won, I was fuming with anger, feeling the need to better myself next time. It was truly a rush.
Sitting down on my bed, I leaned over and turned on my console.
I was still glad I’d saved up for it. Dylan and I had so much fun together ever since we both got the newest model.
The true genius part was that we always wished for the same games, making it that much easier for us to continue gaming together.
I did own two that weren’t multiplayer, but I saved those for when Dylan couldn’t play.
“Hey, Dyl,” I greeted, watching the loading screen as my avatar appeared. I’d gone with a female character this time and added a pink pixie cut.
“Hey, Petey. I really want to defeat the emerald dragon tonight, then we can move on to the main quest after that, okay?”
“Sure. I got good news.”
“What news?”
“Mom is finally letting me work with her.”
“Seriously? Man, that’s amazing!”
“I know! I hope they teach me how to remove them, so we don’t have to deal with those bastards in your house anymore.”
Dylan had seven ghosts in his house, all relatively okay, but two of them were homophobes, which meant I hated them as much as they hated me.
And Dylan’s two moms didn’t deserve to live in a house haunted by ghosts who sneered at them.
I wasn’t allowed to banish ghosts before I got permission from the Mediums, which was an organization that worked closely with the FBI and police on cases where they could help.
Speaking with ghosts came in handy, who knew?
He laughed, “I fucking hope so. I’m tired of waking up to blinking lights in the middle of the night, wondering if it’s because my moms are getting it on or not.” I shivered. Yeah, I wouldn’t care for that either.
“Here’s to hoping.”
A week later.
The doorbell rang and I dashed for the door. Mike was coming home to eat with me and Mom for my birthday and he was bringing his best friend and roommate, Jackson. Which was the only reason he wasn’t just walking in.
I unlocked the door and beamed at my big brother, rushing into a firm hug, loving having him home. “How’s it feel turning sixteen?” Mike asked with a grin.
I returned his smile. “Feels pretty much the same, only now the other gamers won’t feel as bad when I kick their asses as they did when I was fourteen.” He laughed while ruffling my hair, then moved around me to greet Mom.
And there, standing in the doorway, was my biggest sexual fantasy come alive.
Every time I touched myself it was to a man who looked just like him.
Neck tattoo. Piercings. Blonde hair. L…leather jacket.
I felt my knees weaken. If Mike was giving me his best friend as a birthday present, then he would win the title of best big brother for the rest of his life.
He smiled and offered me his hand. “Hi, I’m Jackson.
” I was too stunned to speak, so I just accepted his hand and shook it, hoping that would be enough.
His grin only widened, making him even hotter.
Was it only me who was affected by him like that?
Just then, Mom jumped in and hugged him, stealing the sexiest man I’d ever seen and leading him into the house.
As I stood alone in the hallway, my hand feeling all kinds of pleasant tingles, I made a vow to myself. I would make Jackson mine.
Step one was to figure out his sexuality.
If he wasn’t gay, I couldn’t do anything about that, but if he was…
now, I truly didn’t like losing, but losing Jackson would be the hardest loss of all time for me.
I wasn’t ignorant. I knew a sixteen-year-old couldn’t pursue a twenty-one year old.
But I could wait. As soon as I turned eighteen, I would make that man mine.
“And what about you?” Mom asked Jackson with her most charming smile.
We were talking about Christmas, since that was when Mike would be home next.
I’d hardly spoken since we’d begun eating.
My eyes—that I was told numerous times were too big for my face—wouldn’t even dare blink in Jackson’s company.
What if I missed something important? Like a hidden dimple, or him getting naked.
Not that I wanted to see that with my mom and brother present, but I also wouldn’t complain about it.
“Oh, um.” For the first time since he’d walked in, Jackson seemed… uncomfortable.
“Jackson isn’t close with his family,” Mike spoke for him, giving our mom a pointed look.
She brushed it off, smiling at Jackson again, seemingly ignoring the weight of Mike’s stare. “You can spend Christmas here with us,” she offered, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I felt my heart beat faster. Please say yes, please…
“I would love that,” Jackson grinned, his earlier confidence back in place.
I almost melted in my chair. Jackson would spend Christmas with us.
I might actually die. “And I do have a little sister I still keep in touch with. My father liked to have fun, so one of his mistresses got pregnant and that’s how I got my baby sister.
She’s fourteen but I don’t see her as often as I would like. ”
“How come?” Mom asked.
“Well, her mother and my father ended things rather badly. So badly that my father doesn’t have a relationship with Ida, that’s my sister. But I always wanted siblings so I keep calling her and visit when I can.”
“You sound like a good brother,” Mom smiled. Jackson smiled back, and I fought against a whimper.
“He’s a handsome one,” Polly, our house ghost, said, looking just as pleased to have Jackson in our house as I was.
Mom waved her off. It was a thing we did whenever the guests didn’t know about our ghosts.
Or the fact that we could see, and hear them.
Mom and I were the only mediums alive in our family.
My grandpa had the ability, too, and so had my aunt, but neither of them were with us anymore.
We were born mediums, meaning we’d been able to see and hear ghosts since we were born.
Some developed their abilities later on in life, and could end up just as gifted as us who were born with it.
Mike never showed any signs of getting the ability, but Mom believed he’d get them in a few years like our aunt Janine did.
Jackson eyed Mom and her weird waving thing. “Was there a bug or something?” he asked, looking around the room.
“Nah, just the wind,” Mom said, smiling kindly. “Or ghosts, you never know.” That was Mom’s way of testing his reaction to hearing the word ghosts. Most of our guests would laugh or ignore the comment, but Jackson paled.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, speaking to him for the very first time.
He shook his head. “I um, I know you’re just kidding, but I... um. I had this thing happen when I was a child and… I-I can’t be here if your house is haunted.”
Mom and Mike gaped at him. Me? I was too busy imagining what he meant. What had happened to him? Had a ghost hurt him? And more importantly. Would me being a medium be a dealbreaker if he knew?
“Not haunted!” The thought of Jackson leaving had me blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Mom just likes to call the wind ghosts, and since we live in an old house, it works.”
Jackson seemed to gain some color back in his tanned cheeks and let out a relieved breath. “I’m sorry. It’s not something I’m proud of, but it still affects me even years later.”
“Do you mind telling us? So that we don’t trigger it?” Mom’s voice was soft and understanding, and I appreciated it.
“Sure, I um. I’ve seen a therapist about it and he said I likely suffer from phasmophobia—a fear of ghosts.
When I was around seven, my mom and dad went through a nasty divorce so they left me with my grandma for a year.
She lived in the countryside and had this huge old three-story house.
Many things happened there that I still can’t explain. ”
“Did it help? Speaking to the therapist, I mean?” Mike asked.
Jackson nodded. “It did at the time, but after two years there wasn’t any more he could do, only teach me how to cope if I ever got triggered.”
“Is this the reason you have trouble sleeping?” Mike asked, then seemed to realize it might’ve been a secret and quickly blurted. “Sorry!”
Jackson laughed, not bothered at all that we now knew he had trouble sleeping. “I think learning about my fear of ghosts is more humiliating than my sleep troubles.”
“Still,” Mike winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Jackson waved it off. “And yes, sounds I can’t locate can trigger it, making it hard for me to feel safe enough to sleep.”
“I’m glad I was picked as your roommate then,” Mike grinned. “My snoring must come in handy.”
We all laughed at that as the mood in the room lifted.
“Find out who hurt him,” Polly said, not caring that Jackson was afraid of someone like her. Another reason why I loved Polly over the other ten ghosts we had living here. “I’ll tell the others. We won’t make a peep while he’s visiting.”
I nodded when Jackson wasn’t looking and then we were ghost free for now.