The girl stares at me with big, brown eyes. Her wavy, long hair is jet black. It blends in with her equally dark dress.

The boy sitting across from her tries not to make eye contact with us. He looks a fair bit like Ghost, similar white hair and pale skin. The only difference between the two of them is that this boy has shockingly red eyes.

"Can we sit here?" Ghost suddenly breaks the unspoken staring contest between the girl and me. "This, uh, is kinda our spot."

Her eyes still trained on me, the girl slowly scoots over and pats the seat next to her. The boy does the same.

I sit next to the boy, and Ghost takes the spot next to the girl. We eat in silence for a few minutes--the girl's eyes never leaving mine-- until finally, she speaks.

"Why is your hair purple?" She has a deep voice, and for some reason the first thing I think of is that she would be good at singing lullabies to young children.

"Oh, uh, it's not natural. My other half dyed it when she was still around," I explain quickly. Something about this girl is unsettling.

A long pause again.

She's still looking at me.

"Other halves?" she asks with that soothing yet off-putting tone of hers.

"That's what I-we," I motion to Ghost, "call the ones that lived in our bodies before we took over and they died." I immediately groan mentally. Why did I use the word die?

"Oh."

"We call them first generations," the boy next to me offers. He sounds like he's trying to not sound nervous. But he is. I can see it.

"That's interesting," Ghost, ever optimistic for the sake of others, replies and gives him a grin. 

As we return to our silence, I can't help but wonder where Ila is.