VALERIE

I stayed in the little caravan last night. Underneath all those blankets and huddled up in one of the old sleeping bags, it had been quite cosy. Riley had laid down on the opposite side of the van, and fell asleep as soon as it got dark outside. But as for me, I couldn't sleep. I lay awake, thoughts buzzing through my head, as I watched this ghost snuggle up in a room with me. How could I have slept after everything I'd learned? This strange and fascinating thing...that ghosts were real. I'd felt an urge, at some point, to call Fraya and say sorry for ever doubting all her crazy supernatural talk. She'd been right all along.

I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that I'd befriended the undead. And my heart couldn't stop breaking every single time I thought about what Riley had been through, and how his life had suddenly been cut off. There was such a big difference between the two of us, but at the same time we seemed to relate to each other. I couldn't help but wonder if there were problems in his home too.

These things played through my mind until streaks of sunlight began to come through the crack of the caravan door. It was only when I crawled out of the sleeping bag, and folded everything up, that I realised how inconvenient this living condition was. So I've been sitting awkwardly in front of a still sleeping Riley, wondering how I am supposed to shower, pee and charge my phone.

Riley's eyes eventually flutter open, when the sunlight from the window above eventually hits his face. It's now, in proper light, that I'm seeing how smooth his brown skin looks, and how his grey almond eyes are, in a way, quite attractive.

"Good morning." Riley grumbles, sitting up and brushing his coily hair out of his eyes. He's got a loose curly fro, his curls a bit looser than mine, each wisp springing back into place after he's ruffled them up.

"How come I'm only now realising you're good looking?" I ask him, ensuring that I keep a teasing tone.

Riley gives me a strange look, his eyebrows knitting together, before saying, "I don't know. I really don't know."

"Modest much?"

"Well at least I can rest assured I don't have death scars on my face, now." Riley stands up, and stretches, letting out a yawn. "You know a little detail I noticed? Now that I stretch, it's unsatisfying since my bones don't click anymore."

"That's terrible." I reply sarcastically, and he lets out an exaggerated sigh. I wonder how I'm going to bring up the shower situation to him.

"There's a river nearby if you want to take a bath," Riley says to me, amusement in his voice. He crosses his arms, and gives a mischievous grin. "It's in a picnic area though. And you're gonna have to try and not become duck food-"

"No thanks. I'm not bathing in a public river." I snap at him sourly, standing up and pacing up and down, thinking of a solution. "I think I have to go back home. Just to shower though. And get something to eat. But the rest of the time, I'll just stay here." It sounds so stupid. Walking back and forth between streets to shower. But I just can't go back to door 27 again to sleep there. I'd do anything but that.

"That sounds so inconvenient, but you do you, I guess." Riley says casually, but I know already that he is judging me silently in his mind. Perhaps I've been too invasive coming to his childhood hideout and suddenly moving in there within a day. But like I said, I have nowhere else to go.

Pulling on my hoodie and grabbing my bag, I try to muster up the courage to go back to that house. I feel slightly dizzy, as I pack my things. "I'll see you later, after college," I say to Riley, "I have to go otherwise my teachers will suspect something, and phone my parents."

"But you're not well," Riley says to me, concerned."Why don't you just call in sick?"

"I never call in sick. Nosey people will start to check up on me, and I can't be assed to deal with that right now."

"You really don't like people do you?" Riley says to me, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't like people from BridgeTown."

He looks at me a moment longer, probably debating whether or not he should ask me. That's what I like about Riley. He seems to know when he shouldn't pry. Riley is the only good thing around here. I don't need to think about everything wrong with my life when he's around.

I flash him a quick smile before climbing out the caravan, and heading back up the hill. I half expect him to follow me, but I realise he perhaps wants some time to himself. I make my way quietly through the woods, my head still spinning from yesterday. I don't usually get ill like this. I hate being so vulnerable.

I feel eyes on me from the others walking to school and college on the street. My hair's a mess-but then again it always is, and my hoodie is all crumpled up from being slept in. I probably reek as well. It's a good thing Riley can't smell anything. At least I hope he can't. As usual, I keep my head down as I walk past everyone, hearing the occasional whispers about me being on drugs or sleeping around like Mum.

I get disapproving stares from lots of mothers as well, often, usually because they're husbands had either slept with my Mum or because they think I'm a bad influence on their kids, which they're probably not wrong about. He gives free beers to the men who look like they're going to leave the pub. I don't think he cares about the families he is destroying. He likes to keep customers coming.

When I get to the house, I head straight for my bedroom window which I'd intentionally left unlocked, and crawl into the house from there. It's a much easier way to get in to avoid the drama. The mouldy smell doesn't seem quite as comforting as before. It used to be the only place I could be myself, but now I've got something better, and this room is just as much a trap as the rest of the house. The only good things about it is the huge Bruno Mars poster above my bed and the Slytherin flag drooped over my chair that still reminds me of the times when everything was normal.

I step over the piles of clothes on the floor to get to my door, and then place my ear against the keyhole. I can't hear anything, so they're probably both still asleep. I unlock my bedroom door and step out, to see Mum lying on the couch fast asleep. I start walking as quietly as I can to the bathroom, heading for the shower, but stop in my tracks when I see the state she's in. There are scrunched up tissues all over the floor beneath her and used up tissue rolls. A large empty bottle of whiskey lies not too far away. My heart feels heavy, as I walk over to her, picking up one of the blankets from the armchair, and covering her with it.

The pink, unicorn blanket. Mum bought it for me when I was eight, and going through a unicorn phase. Whenever I felt unwell or sad, she would lay my head on her lap, and we'd both snuggle up on the sofa under that blanket until I cried myself to sleep. A pang of guilt wells up inside of me. We've never had much money, our comfortable things in this house. But Mum always used to take care of me when she could... I couldn't help but feel bad that I'd left her alone like this, while she was so upset. But how was I supposed to know she was going to have a breakdown? I thought she was just going to be in bed with a guy again.

I kiss her lightly on her forehead, before heading back to the bathroom.

***************************************

I'd told my hospitality teacher that my seat near the window was distracting, since there was a lot of noise outside, and asked to sit further back in the classroom to help with my concentration. She seemed a bit reluctant at first, but let me move anyway.

This way, I'm able to stay far away from Gina and also go onto my phone without being easily caught. I'd be insane to focus on something like hospitality when I've literally met a ghost. How could I possibly keep my mind on school?

I googled several things, "Ghost communication" "why can I see ghosts" "Reasons for ghosts existence" but it was extremely difficult to find a genuine response that wasn't people trying to get clout or scientists proving that ghosts didn't exist. I know Riley exists. He isn't made up.

How am I even supposed to tell these ghost stories from real to fake? I wouldn't know what other people's experiences are like. I let out an exasperated sigh, which causes a few turning heads in class and a sour look from my teacher, but I ignore them.

As soon as the lesson is over, I take a quick picture of the notes on the board and pack up my things. There might be some things on ghosts in the history department library. I'll probably have a lot to look through, but it might be worth it. I'd made a promise to Riley that I'd help him. But I needed to understand ghosts more first. And I needed to know why I'm the only one who can see him.

I hurriedly head towards the emergency exit staircase, narrowly avoiding Gina who attempts to talk to me as I leave the classroom.

As I head up the stairs and into the history department, I realise I'm probably going to have to ask for help to know where I could find books about ghosts. I hate this. I kind of wish Riley came with me to college today. I don't see why he can't. I'll invite him next time.

The large glass door of the library seems to be locked, but when I look inside, there are several people studying there. I look for another way to get in, but then notice the scanning box next to the door. I groan, annoyed.

"If you want to get in you need a scanning pass which you get if you're a history or literature student." I hear the voice from behind me, and I turn around hesitantly to see a lanky ginger haired boy in a preppy green outfit. When he sees my face, his lips set in a hard line and his green eyes go cold. "Valerie Davis. I'm pretty sure you don't take literature or history." He says bitterly.

"Well, I need to get in."

"Well, you can't."

"Why don't you just scan for me?" I ask him, rolling my eyes.

"Because I don't do favours for people like you. I assume you knew your Mum had sex with my Dad?"

"Depends on who your Dad is..." I trail off as I realise he reminds me of the ginger who I'd seen Mum with the other night. "Oh. Him."

"So you did know." He walks closer to me, so that his chest is right in front of my nose. He is tall,but not the attractive kind of tall. The lanky, stretched, unattractive type of tall. "Do you realise what your family has done to mine? I hope both of your parents get punished for everything they've done to people." He hisses.

I look up at him, scrunching my nose. "If you should be blaming anyone right now it should be the man who left you and your family in the middle of the night and took advantage of a miserable woman."

"You disgust me." The boy says. "My father is a religious and loyal man, and was corrupted by an immoral slut, who-"

I grab his collar suddenly and slam him against the wall behind him. No, no, no. This is happening again. Don't hit him. Don't hit him.

His jaw falls open, and he doesn't move, probably in total shock at my actions. He's taller than me, like I said, but doesn't seem to have an ounce of muscle, though I'm sure he could attack me back if he really wanted to. Or perhaps he thinks I'm too timid because I'm a woman. Or on the contrary, maybe he knows.

My eyes lock with his,"People like you disgust me," I whisper to him, "Blaming their problems on everyone else except themselves." I can hear gasps, see people staring.

The boy blinks, seemingly coming to his senses, and grabs my wrists, shoving me off of him. He adjusts his collar and dusts himself off, scowling. " Attacking another student in the middle of the college corridor, in front of all to see. Living up to your reputation, I see."

His face is turning bright red. I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction that I've managed to embarrass him, but also relief that I managed to stay in control. Maybe he should know how it feels to get those stares of disapproval.

"What's happening here?" A teacher is heading towards us, and my body stiffens. Of course, I know there are going to be consequences. But really, what's the worst this school can do to me now?