I awoke in a bed very much like my own. A bright ray of sunshine beamed onto my tanned skin as an alarm clock blared in the background. Fumbling blindly through the strange yet familiar room, I searched aimlessly for the source of the torturous sound. My hand landed on another; both our hands hovered above the quieted alarm.

     Blinking slowly, I looked up groggily.

     "Morning." Grandpa grinned down at me. In my hazy state, I almost forgot about the crash. The presence of my deceased grandfather left no doubt of my own death. Reality came rushing in, but the last I remembered was sliding across a leather seat.

     "I'm confused," I grunted, rubbing my tired eyes.

     Forcing myself to my feet, I took in every inch of the small room. It had quite obviously been designed to my liking, with the same grey walls and hockey posters as my room at home. Even the closet was filled with clothing of my style; shirts thrown carelessly on the floor just as I would have placed them. Despite the similarities, enough subtle differences, such as a misplaced lamp and a midnight blue drawer rather than my usual oxford blue colored one, were present to avoid disconcerting sameness.

     "This is part of my temporary home?" I asked.

     "Yes."

     Taking long strides, feet gliding against the soft charcoal carpet, I turned the golden doorknob. I explored some of the small home, before finding the kitchen. I took a seat at the wooden dining table, suspecting it would be best to be sitting as we fully discussed the terms of my offer.

     "Do you have your own room?" I asked.

     "I will be checking up on you." Grandpa avoided the question.

     "You mean you won't be here all the time?"

     "Why does it matter?" he teased. "Are you afraid of ghosts?"

     "Very funny," I deadpanned. "That actually was not my concern... there is such a thing as a fear of loneliness."

     "I promise I will be here when you need me."

     "How? You'll just happen to know when I need you or am I to contact you? I don't believe there's such a thing as phoning the afterlife."

     "Don't worry about it. Just know I'll be there."

     "You'll just know?" I asked doubtfully.

     "Yes. I will just know."

     "How? Do you read minds or—"

     "Please stop," grandpa begged. "You ask a lot of questions that are very difficult to answer considering I can only share very little information with you. Can you please just trust me?"

     "Alright," I grumbled dejectedly. "I'll take your word for it... I guess I'm ready to get on with things."

     "Thank you. The bathroom is to your left."

     "Huh?"

     "Shower," he said. "I suggest you take one."

     Huffing indignantly, slowly my affronted expression faded into puzzlement. "I need those?"

     "A shower?" He frowned. "Need not so much, but it is certainly highly recommended if you wish to woo the young lady."

     If not for the sudden realization, I would have commented on his formal choice of words. "I need to sleep," I commented. "I'll need to use the bathroom. Eat? I need to do normal living people things..."

     "Of course. Why would—"

     "Am I alive?"

     "Temporarily. You're in a physical state identical to one of a living person."

     "What does that even mean?"

     He sighed; seemingly faced with another un-answerable questions. I paid the sigh of defeat little attention, choosing to carry on.

     "Can I die a second time, or will I miraculously survive any potential harm?" I asked. "What if I take a kitchen knife and stab myself? Would some sort of supernatural force stop me, or would I die, and God would think me a fool for wasting their special offer?"

     Eyes flicking shut, my grandfather shook his head exasperatedly.

     "Again, I don't know... But for the love of God, please do not test out your theory."

     "I won't," I said distractedly, staring thoughtfully at the wall. I thought it was a reasonable question...

     Grandpa sighed again. "Jaxson," he warned.

     "I won't," I promised more firmly. "But hear me out... What if I took the knife without actually intending to go through with it? Say, hypothetically, God didn't hear this conversation and I acted as though I intended to go through with it, do you think something would stop me?"

     "I would hope pure common sense would stop you... I was quite upset, thought it really unfair that your life was cut so short, but I'm coming to realize that it was a miracle that you lived as long as you did."

     "Ay!" I cried with feigned disgruntlement. "A little early for the dead jokes, don't you think?"

***

     Hot water spilling on my face, I took an extra-long shower. I had hoped the warm water might wake me from the stupor of feeling as though I were living a dream from which I could not be awoken. Eager for the next adventure, I felt a mixture of emotions; excitement towards what was to come, but a lingering feeling that I should be grieving. I had just learned of my death, but had yet to feel any sorrow or regret, as I thought I should. As I knew I should.

     Towel around my toned waist, aggressively I pulled my damp raven hair, staring defeatedly at the mess of clothes at my feet. I didn't tend to put much thought into my choice of clothing, but it wasn't every day that you were given the opportunity to meet your soulmate. And boy was I glad this wasn't a regular occurrence. I reckoned it would be quite unhealthy for my body to endure such stress on a daily basis... though I supposed my health wasn't top priority these days.

     I was aware that most considered me good looking. My features were sharp, blue eyes striking and jaw and chin well defined. But today, looking in my bedroom mirror, I lost all sense of confidence. Had my nose always been so big? I swore my hair wasn't always this unruly. How was I to dress to impress, when I knew nothing of the person I was meant to impress? Following every outfit, I threw on, I pictured a different girl laughing at me. I decided that I had forgotten my dignity and confidence in the white waiting room. This was so unlike me. Jaxson Scott did not get nervous... Yet, here I was, fretting over every inch of my outfit.

     Eventually I gave up and settled for a dark pair of jeans and a white polo shirt and sneakers. Grabbing the blue school bag that had been conveniently placed on the edge of my bed, I left my room.

     I found my grandfather in the kitchen, reading the newspaper. "You clean up nice."

     "Does this actually look alright?" I asked apprehensively. "I should probably go change. I really—"

     "Are you trying to impress me?"

     "Don't mock me," I complained. "I'm not irrational for wanting to impress her. I do believe it's the whole purpose of my current existence."

     "I wasn't mocking you. But seeing as you aren't meeting her today, I do believe your stress to be unnecessary."

     "What?!" I demanded. My bag slid off my shoulder and landed on the marble floor with a discouraged thump.

     "I'm only taking you to see her. No one will be able to see us today. You only have one chance to do this. We want to make sure it goes well. Observe her today, and plan how you'll approach her tomorrow."

     Observe? That didn't sound very romantic.

     "I just took a shower and wasted a half hour picking my outfit for what reason?"

     "I still have to smell and look at you."

     Groaning, I tugged at my damp locks. "You mean I have to do this all over again tomorrow?"

     "Yes, but now you have an outfit picked. Should be less stressful."

     "Yeah, right!" I scoffed. "Now, I have all day to criticize my chosen outfit. I'm not wearing this tomorrow."

     "She's really not the type to care what you wear."

     "Really? So, she'd fall in love even if I showed up in one of grandma's night gowns?"

     "She'd definitely be thrown off, but she'd probably forget about it."

     I cocked a brow, watching my grandad skeptically.

     "She's really sweet," he insisted. "She reminds me of your grandmother."

     "How—"

     "You're just going to have to wait and see for yourself. We need to get going, we're running late. You sure took your time getting ready."

     With narrowed eyes, I followed the man.

     Cranray Valley High was much smaller than I had expected. It was nothing like the school I had frequented in the next-door city. The different population in town from city was evident. There could not have been more than 300 students, whereas I was used to having hundreds of classmates, thousands of students attending Astha Falls Academy.

     The red bricks were in desperate need of a paint job, but the small establishment was welcoming, with posters and greetings littering the bright windows. Walking through the beige entrance doors, my heart fluttered in my chest. Surprised that I even had a pulse, with a hand pressed to my chest I trudged slowly behind my grandfather.

     "Nervous?" he chuckled.

     That was an understatement. Mouth too dry to speak, I wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my jeans.

     "Aren't you happy you're just observing, today?" Grandpa probed. "Remember last time you attempted to approach a girl when you were nervous?"

     Humiliation marked the return of my ability to speak. "We—We don't speak of that," I mumbled. "I'm mortified that you witnessed that."

     "I've witnessed worst."

     Brows shooting into my hairline, I waited desperately for the just kidding.

     "No worries," he brushed off casually, pushing me into the hallway. "I've only watched what was appropriate... Though I can't say that I've approved of your choice in partners this past year."

     Cheeks flaming, I groaned into my hands. "But you approve of this one?" I asked, gesturing towards the empty hall, where I assumed the girl would soon appear.

     "I think you two would be wonderful together. How is it you young kids say it... I'm on board? Ready to sail your boat?"

     "You ship it?"

     "Ship?" He puckered his lips as if the idea was outrageous. "Why would I want to transport it?"

     "I don't know. I didn't come up—"

     "Never mind." His eyes landed meaningfully on a nearby clock. "The bell is going to ring any minute now... I want you to identify her."

     "How—"

     "Her name is Lexi-Grace Broughton—"

     My heart stuttered at the mere sound of her name; chest suddenly heavy. Grandpa smirked at my immediate reaction.

     "I want you to look for her. Pick out who you think would best suit you... But don't look for who you think you're expected to date based on your social status. Think of what you really want. Watch the way she composes herself."

     Before I could argue, the bell rang and I was pushed ahead, allowing for a better view of the students pilling into the hall. Too many students walked right through me to allow me to properly focus. Shaken every time I felt another body pass through mine, my desperate search was unsuccessful. To be fair, my search would have been much easier if I had even the slightest idea who to be looking for.

      Grandpa had implied that this girl would be different than the ones I had dated in the past. Naturally I pointed out anyone drastically different from my usual type. The latest victim of my pointed finger was tall and rocked blue hair. With a nose ring and a pierced lip and brow, she stood out amongst the others. The tapping of her heels heard over the loud chorus of voices. Straight hair falling to the top of her high-waisted plaid skirt; her black choker matched her top. She really was pretty.

     "She's a nice girl," grandpa agreed. "But do you feel anything or are you simply choosing whoever fits the criteria?"

     "I don't know, grandpa!" I huffed. "I don't know what I'm supposed to be feeling."

     "Take a deep breath. Take your time. There's no rush... Just really pay attention."

     Doing as I was told, I tried again. So many students caught my attention, but I waited for the hurrah moment my grandad seemed to expect.

     Hallway rapidly becoming empty, I was certain that I had missed her. Turning on my feet, with no success I searched those that had already passed me. I continued to turn in circles until the soft sound of three locker doors shutting drew my attention. At the far end of the hall, three girls stood with binders and books in their arms. Chatting calmly, together they walked towards another. The fourth girl was still gathering things from her locker. Laughing lightly, the group could barely be heard over the mayhem, which seemed to be their intention.

     Making way for their next class, I paid them extra attention, a gut feeling telling me that I was finally getting somewhere. The two brunettes and the redhead listened attentively to the blonde, a calm state encompassing them all. With every forward step they took, my pulse quickened.

     The fourth girl was still out of view as she trailed slightly behind the others. Only her long brown curls and grey running shoes were visible. Hair blocking the side of her face, she tilted her head downwards in a way to avoid meeting anyone's eyes.

     Instant, irrevocable curiosity presenting itself upon laying eyes on the group, I waited impatiently for the four to round the corner. She was the only one whose face I had yet to see. It had to be her.

     When I finally acquired a proper view of the fourth girl, I was almost disappointed. She was beautiful, a beauty different from my usual; hers was a simple kind as opposed to the striking, in your face type I was accustomed to. And though I was greatly intrigued, I felt no overwhelming, extraordinary emotion one would associate with meeting their soulmate. There was no hurrah. Still... Something kept my eyes strained her way. She carried herself so carefully, so calmly, as if she feared catching anyone's attention. Her attempt to fade in the background was counter-intuitive, as I couldn't note her serenity and not wonder what was really going through her mind.

     As if sensing my lingering gaze, she turned my way. Brown eyes briefly met my blue ones. Though she saw nothing, quickly averting her gaze from what she surely saw as nothingness, my entire focus fell directly into her warm, brown pools. Physically there was nothing extraordinary with either the colour or shape or her eyes, but the genuine, tender look they held took my breath away. It was a gaze that could vanish all of your worries.

     I had never believed in the cliché, typical romance movie frozen in time, take your breath away moment. But I hated to admit that that was exactly how I felt, then. Unknown, never before experienced emotions churned within me. My feet were glued to the ground; chest aching with the need for a proper breath. Taking a small step forward to steady myself, I tried to re-ground myself.

     "What about you, Lexi?" the other brunette asked, looking directly at the girl that I had fixedly gazed upon. If I had needed anymore confirmation, there it was.

     "Sorry, what?" Lexi asked gently. She shook her head, as though only then remembering where she was.

     "Did you finish the chemistry project, yet?" the blonde repeated with amusement.

     Mesmerized by the smooth movement of her lips, girls slowly walking far out of my hearing, I strained to catch Lexi's words. Her lips were bright red as if she had gotten into the habit of constantly biting them, and her cheeks bloomed a light shade of pink as she spoke. I took a few steps in their direction, wanting to hear and see more but the hand placed on my shoulder restrained me.

     "What happened to you thinking this observing thing was, and I quote, stalkerish?" Grandpa smirked.

     Under normal circumstances I would have retorted witfully, but at a loss of words, my lips parted soundlessly. Laughing at me, grandpa guided me back the way we came.

     "We're leaving already?" I snapped out of my stupor.

     "Yes. We agreed that today we would only look."

     "I just briefly saw her," I argued. "I haven't had enough time to form a proper opinion."

     "And that is already more than most are offered. Knowing too much before meeting her will take away the element of surprise. She may grow suspicious if you know more than you ought to."

     "Then, what was the purpose of coming today?" I demanded.

     "Now you know who to look for."

     "You could have just shown me tomorrow!"

     "I like to think that you've gathered enough to somewhat plan your approach."

     I looked at my grandfather with my brows furrowed in accusation. "I think this was for your own amusement," I concluded sourly.

     He laughed. "How so?"

     "You love to watch me make a fool of myself."

     Briefly considering my words, finally he nodded in agreement. His grin only grew as I huffed indignantly.

     "I was excited to see your reaction," he admitted. "But not for the reason you may think. I wanted to make sure you really wanted this."

     I frowned.

     "If you choose to go through with this, you have to do so fully. No backing out."

     "We've already been through this."

     "We're going through it again. This is important, Jaxson."

     "I know it is. I still want to do this. I am taking it seriously. Have you taken no notice to my panicked state this morning?"

     Grandpa rolled his eyes playfully, but still I noted uncertainty behind his gaze.

     "I know that it's going to be hard, and I promise that I understand what the offer entails."

     "Good." Grandpa visibly relaxed.

     "Are you sure?" I teased. "I can sign a contract if you like. I'll solemnly swear to not have a fit when you say play time is over and I'm meant to be dead again."

     Shaking his head in laughter, with the hand on my shoulder he guided me out the front doors.

***

     Claiming to have errands to tend to, later that night, grandpa left me to do as I pleased. My first day back from the dead and I was left alone. Wonderful.

     "Watch TV or something," he suggested.

     "For how long?" I inquired, delaying his departure. "Is that how you spend your free time, now?"

     "I really need to leave. Again, you ask questions that I cannot answer... I'll be back tonight."

     "What if I need you?"

     "Need me for what?" he asked ridiculously, grey brow cocked amusedly.

     Clearly, he didn't think anything worse than my recent death could occur.  "What if an axe murderer walks through the door? What am I—"

     "You don't feel threatened by potential gun holding murderers?"

     "I'm not joking grandpa," I said seriously. "I know I died, but as you put it, I'm in a temporary state of that of a living being, and I'd like to remain that way until I've finished what you've asked of me. Wouldn't it suck if all of this was done for no reason?"

     He nodded, attempting to take me seriously, but still obviously thinking the matter absurd. "I still don't see what you want me to do about it. I'm dead."

     "Couldn't you send God a message?"

     "That's really not how it works."

     "Well... I'd at least appreciate your presence. You could calm and distract me."

     "Hold your hand while you're being stabbed?" he suggested incredulously.

     "That would be appreciated, yes."

     Grandpa rolled his eyes. He had never understood my fear of solitude.

     "I just want to be able to contact you. Can't you carry a phone on your angelic missions?"

     "I'm not an angel," he grunted, repeating the statement for what must have been his seventh time that night. He sounded like an angel to me. "Just think of your grandmother's homemade apple pie."

     "What?" I stammered, watching the old man walk towards my bedroom door.

     "Just do it when you need me." He opened the door. "Trust me. It'll work."

     What should have been my newly decorated room, was now completely white, similar to the nothingness in which I had first seen my grandfather following the crash. Stuttering incomprehensibly, perplexed by both the room and the random mention of apple pie, I failed to put my various questions to word. Before a coherent sentence could be formed, grandpa waved and stepped into the nothingness. Old man out of sight, the door shut behind him.

     Staring blankly at the door, finally a grunt of deep confusion escaped me. Warily opening my bedroom door, I discovered all of my belongings placed exactly where I had left them, no sign of my grandfather or the inexplicable whiteness.

     Giving up on finding explanations, I headed towards the living room and decided to take my grandfather's advice. Reaching for the black remote, naturally, I decided to test the apple pie theory. Thinking of the small, individual apple pies, Grace Coleman baked every Christmas and Thanksgiving dinner, I smiled. No pie was as good as my grandmother's famous family recipe. Remembering the smell and taste of my favourite dessert, I narrowed my eyes at the black screen when I concluded that my grandad couldn't be trusted.

     "Liar," I muttered as I dropped into the old, leather recliner.

     In the process of sitting down, the stench of old cigars returned, and a familiar grey beard appeared before me. Grandpa's face inches from mine, I was so startled that I nearly missed my seat.

     "I do not lie," he said. "I certainly will not come every time you call me. I've only done so today to prove you wrong. In the future I will only respond to your pleas of help if I know they're sincere."

     Disappearing as fast as he had appeared, I blinked slowly at the now empty space. Grumbling again, I began to believe that I might regret having accepted the offer.

     I tossed and turned for hours that night. Stomach tied in knots, desperately I tried to convince myself that I would face no trouble. I would make a great first expression, and I would run into no trouble with Lexi. I had never struggled socially in the past and if she really was my soulmate, wouldn't that mean that we were destined to get along? Naively believing that I had convinced myself that I had nothing to worry about, eventually I succumbed to exhaustion. The nervous wreck in my stomach not even slightly eased.