The porch creaked under our feet and I shined my flashlight down so Emily could avoid spots with missing boards.

"I hope the floor inside isn't this wrecked," she said.

"Why are you whispering?" Nolan halted. With his light pointed up at his face, he used his best scary story voice to ask, "Do you think you can hide from the monsters that live here?" Before cackling like a cartoon villain.

Lauren smacked his arm. "I'm with her; it seems like we should be quiet."

"Okay, but I'm pretty sure if monsters are here, they've already seen us." He stepped aside to give everyone space in the musty foyer.

Our two flashlight beams roamed the empty room. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and a thick layer of dust covered every available surface, including the hardwood floor. At least it appeared more solid—there were no missing boards.

I examined the wooden staircase leading to the second level as Nolan passed through a wide doorway on the other side of the room. "Hey guys, there's stuff in here."

We followed Nolan to an eat-in kitchen that was still in decent shape. There was a round oak table with five chairs and five dusty but colorful placemats. A little rug with fringe ends lay in front of the sink.

One of the cabinets hung open, revealing shelves with mugs and glasses, and a tea towel was draped over the oven handle like someone had just been cooking. It was as though people still lived there, except for the coating of dust, and the glaring empty space where the refrigerator would stand.

Emily towed me along as she crossed the room and opened a folding pantry door. Inside were rows of sealed glass jars just like the ones Mom used the summer she and I grew cucumbers, and canned pickles. We ended up with so many she'd give a jar to anyone she talked to and announce that I'd helped with the whole process, causing my seven-year-old chest to puff up with pride as she ruffled my hair.

The dark, unrecognizable mush that filled these jars replaced the fresh green pickles of my memory, and the smile fell from my face.

Emily's nose wrinkled at the discolored contents. "Yuck. That stuff's out of date."

"It's kind of sad," I said.

"What is?"

"This." I waved at the jars and everything else. "A family lived here. Someone decorated with rugs and matching towels, and it's all left behind, forgotten."

My spine went rigid under a sudden chill. Goosebumps pebbled my skin, and I had to remind myself we were alone. It was only an old house.

"That is sad." Emily curled into me, and warmth spread through my chest, overpowering the cold air.

"What happened to the family?" Lauren straightened a placemat and frowned. "I mean, if they moved, wouldn't they have taken all of this with them?"

"We know what happened." Nolan stopped rifling through cabinets. "The monsters ate them." Without warning, he growled and bent to nibble Lauren's shoulder.

She squealed and elbowed his chest. "Cut it out, you goof!" She dissolved into giggles as he growled again, holding her and covering her neck in little bites.

A loud thump echoed upstairs. We froze and faced the ceiling, all playfulness gone.

"What was that?" Emily whispered, pressing tighter against my side.

I slung my arm over her shoulders. "Probably just the wind or an animal."

"Like a bear?" Lauren squeaked.

"There aren't many bears around here." I chuckled. "I was thinking more like a raccoon."

"Don't worry, baby." Nolan held Lauren's hand. "I'm the only thing here that'll bite you. Let's go." He dragged her with him back to the main room, toward the steps.

"Fine," she grumbled, "but I'm gonna be so pissed if I get eaten by a bear."

I hugged Emily closer. "Do you want to go with them?" I wanted to, but if she didn't, we'd wait outside.

Emily's gaze flitted between them and me. "Yeah, but I hope it's the wind."

I smiled as we followed them, glad she was willing to keep exploring. An urgent need to know more tugged me toward the stairs.

"Dumbasses."

I halted. "Did you hear that?"

"What?" Emily looked around.

"I could've sworn I heard somebody." I directed the light at a door near the entrance I hadn't noticed before. Turning to the staircase, I spotted Nolan and Lauren at the top. I moved to follow them when—

"You can hear me?" a wispy voice said.

Nerves prickled my neck, and I gripped the flashlight tighter, glancing at Emily. "How about that?"

She squinted. "Are you messing with me?"

"No, I swear, I'm not."

I walked to the door and yanked it open. A hissing mass of fur flew out at us. Emily screamed as I twisted in front of her, shielding her from the animal. It bounded painfully off my shoulder blades, then raced through the exit, leaving Emily and me gaping.

"What happened?" Lauren shrieked from the top of the stairs.

"Nothing; we're okay," I said. "There's a basement, and we freed a trapped cat."

"Awesome!" Nolan laughed. "Get up here. We'll check that out next."

Emily shook her head at him. "I guess that was the sound. Are you alright? That thing came right at our heads!"

"Yeah, I'm good," I said. But that wasn't what I'd heard unless it was a talking cat. I peeked over my shoulder to assess the damage from its claws. "It might have torn my shirt, though."

Emily stepped behind me. "Shine that back here." I angled the light as she lifted my top with a gasp. "It poked through and scratched you. You're bleeding a little!"

"It's okay. It was just scared." I shrugged. "I'll put something on it later so it doesn't get infected."

Her hand slid behind my neck, pulling me closer to kiss my cheek. "Those scratches would've been on me if you hadn't moved. Thank you."

"No problem."

Her fingers slid down my chest, distracting me from thoughts of that strange voice. I dipped my head slowly, giving her time to object. My mouth skimmed hers, and my heart skipped a beat as her lips parted with a quiet inhale and she grasped my shirt over my stomach. A flashlight aimed at our faces ruined the moment. Emily held her palm up to block the light, and turned her face away.

"What the hell, guys? We're waiting. Make out later." Nolan waggled the beam at us.

"He's an idiot." I chuckled and rested my forehead on Emily's, wishing I could taste her cherry lip gloss again. Instead, I straightened up.

"I might punch him," she grumbled.

Her annoyance cracked me up.

"What?" She grinned.

"Nothing, I'm fine with that. Come on; let's go."

We caught up as our friends stepped into the first bedroom. It held a queen-size bed with a rustic wooden frame and a large matching dresser. A rocking chair sat in the corner with a dusty, knitted blanket folded over the back.

A tingle ran over my skin. Was someone watching us? I glanced at the dark hallway behind me and the other closed door.

"The bed's made." Lauren frowned.

"Strange." Nolan strolled to the dresser.

"Is someone staying here? Maybe a homeless person? Or an escaped prisoner!" Lauren looked around, as if preparing for an ambush.

"No one's been here." Aiming the light at the ground, I said, "Nolan left footprints in the dust. There are no other prints."

Nolan yanked a shirt out of a dresser drawer. "So, someone left their stuff, and it wasn't taken in all this time? No way. It's been here for like thirty years."

"Fifty."

The voice was back, but nobody else reacted. Emily and Lauren tilted their heads together and whispered without interruption as Nolan inspected everything.

All of my attention was drawn to the other room. With my footfalls as soundless as possible, I crept down the hall and swung the door open. The gust of air swirled dust in front of me. I waved it away and peered inside.

Abandoned bunk beds stood against one wall and a twin bed lined another. Under the filth, matching blue plaid comforters covered all three of them. Two dressers and a small desk with a chair filled the rest of the space. Grime blanketed the floor, but besides that, a family could've left this morning.

Lauren was right. My stomach soured at the idea of these people disappearing without a trace like Mom. I reminded myself that whatever happened to this family, happened a long time ago—there was nothing I could do about it now, and no reason to stress over it.

The room was empty, so I turned to rejoin my friends, but before I moved, a throat cleared behind me.

"Over here."

I flinched and whirled toward the deep voice. My flashlight beam swept a path across the room, landing on a big dude near the desk.

My breaths quickened. Where the hell did he come from? I narrowed my eyes on him. Something seemed off.

I pointed the light at the man's broad chest. He was still as a statue with his curious gaze trained on me, but he didn't appear angry as I looked him over. He was maybe a few years older than me, and he wore a white T-shirt and jeans. His hair was short, dark, and... glittering?

Craning my neck, I stepped closer. No, not glitter—dust motes floated behind him. The light went right through him.

He disappeared. I blinked, and he was back in the same place. A second later, he flickered as though his battery was dying before becoming solid again. My jaw dropped as I stared, unable to make sense of what I saw. Shouldn't I be panicking?

I opened my mouth to speak, but the guy held up his hand to stop me. "I wouldn't say anything. They don't know I'm here, and they'll think you're nuts."

Now that he'd spoken more, he sounded normal, but the hair on my arms still stood on end. Why didn't anyone else hear him?

"You're the only person in fifty years that's seen me, and you're confused. I understand, but it'd be better if you don't tell them. I don't want a bunch of people coming to investigate the haunted house."

At least he didn't seem bothered by my gawking. He was studying me too, until he disappeared in a flash and materialized in the doorway behind me, watching Nolan dig through the dresser. He muttered under his breath before stepping toward me, then reappearing back in front of the desk.

"Come here tomorrow morning; it's important. For now, get that bozo out of my parents' things before I toss him out the window." One side of his mouth tipped up in an arrogant grin. "I don't want to upset those cute chicks."

Though his tone was pleasant, it was clear he wasn't kidding. Nolan needed to stop. The new guy's jaw clenched, and I shivered as the temperature dropped. He sighed. "Fine, I'll take care of it."

I snapped out of my stupor. "Nolan, quit snooping. Come check this out."

The guy relaxed against the desk and huffed in amusement. Would they notice him if they were closer? I doubted it, but I had to find out for sure.

"I'm seeing what there is to see, dude." Nolan kept rummaging through the drawers.

When the girls joined me, Nolan dropped what he was holding and followed them. They glanced right past the man who flickered in and out of sight without moving.

Emily wandered through the pale moonlight to the desk. My heart stalled as she reached through the ghost-man and picked up a pencil.

The guy winked. "I wouldn't hurt your girl."

I believed him. My gut told me this guy drew me into the cabin, and we needed to talk.

Emily set the pencil down and shuddered. "A kid could've been sitting here doing their homework today. Where are they?"

"Let's go." Winding my arm around her, I stepped away. "We shouldn't mess with this stuff."

I'd rather not find out what a ticked off ghost was capable of. We needed to vacate, and I wouldn't tell them about my strange conversation. Nolan was a magnet for trouble, and he didn't need the temptation.

"I knew you were scared!" Nolan pointed at me. "What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing. But it seems wrong."

Lauren frowned. "It does. We should leave."

Nolan kept poking at everything. He pulled another dresser drawer open, and the ghost grumbled. "Time's up. Tomorrow. Only you."

I nodded, knowing I'd be back in the morning. I had questions and the strange desire to help this guy.

The ghost straightened to his full height, and the flickering stopped as he raised his arms with determination. A slight glow surrounded him, and he appeared more solid, but still no one else noticed him. The bedroom door slammed shut, trapping us inside. Frost crackled over the windows, and the floor shook.

Emily and Lauren screamed. Nolan knocked Lauren out of the way in his rush to the exit. She tripped backward and fell, but he didn't slow down. Instead, he wrestled with the doorknob.

Shaking his head, the ghost snickered. "His girl could do better."

I ignored him and helped Lauren up. She grabbed Emily, and they clung to each other, waiting for Nolan to let us out. The house quaked harder, the vibration rattling everything.

My voice rose above the girl's screams. "Calm down, Nolan! Turn the knob."

The ghost doubled over with laughter, and even when he blinked out of sight, I could hear him clearly. "I won't have to worry about them coming back."

While he guffawed, it was hard to take Nolan's terror seriously. I shouldered him away and easily twisted the knob. Nolan was the first one out.

He raced ahead, leaving me to guide the girls down the shaky, broken stairs. Not that they needed help—they were hauling ass, but I kept a grip on each of their arms to prevent them tripping on the uneven floor in our rush.

As soon as we exited, everything stilled. We sped through the yard with waist high grass and baby pine trees whipping at our torsos, and dove into the car just as Nolan started the engine.

Lauren slammed her door shut and punched Nolan on the shoulder. "You were going to leave us?"

Nolan jerked the steering wheel, making the tires skid through the loose dirt, and started down the long driveway without answering. He scanned the area around us as though we were being chased.

Emily clutched my bicep, and we watched through the back window as the cabin disappeared through a cloud of dust. She whispered, "What was that?"

"I don't know, but we probably shouldn't come back." I turned to face the front, and she copied, leaning against me.

"No shit, especially with Nolan!" Lauren punched his arm again. "He was gonna leave us to die!"

"You wouldn't die, and I wasn't leaving you. I tried opening the door for everyone, and I ran to start the car. It just made sense," Nolan said.

I snorted. "Sure, that's what it seemed like."

Nolan shrank in his seat, and I regretted ragging on him as Lauren fumed. Emily rested her head on my shoulder and I kissed her hair. That guy was talking to me, and for some reason, I knew we were safe. Still, my pulse raced. Everyone was silent for the rest of the ride.

Later that night, I lay on my bed watching the white ceiling fan spin, and replayed the evening. Despite everything, my first date with Emily was a success. She'd stayed wrapped around my arm the entire way to her house and pecked my cheek before saying goodnight, rewarding me with another kiss when I promised to call her tomorrow.

I kicked my legs under the sheet and rolled over to stare at the wall. Was I losing my mind? Rubbing my face, I took a deep breath. No, I wasn't crazy. That guy was definitely a ghost. A real, talking, door-slamming, cabin-shaking ghost. And I'd agreed to meet with him.

📚💜📚
Would you go back to chat with a ghost?