Presence took a deep breath, turning to KK with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, KK, but something's come up. It's urgent - I need to go take care of it."

KK's eyes narrowed slightly, clearly seeing through the hastily constructed lie. But to Presence's relief, he didn't push. Instead, he simply nodded, concern evident in his voice as he said, "Alright, honey. Just... be careful, okay?"

And then, those five words. Five simple words that held the entirety of their friendship, their shared history, their unbreakable bond. "To the moon and back."

In that moment, Presence realized that sometimes, love isn't about knowing everything. Sometimes, it's about trusting enough to let the other person navigate their own craters and dark sides, always keeping a light on to guide them home.

Yet, guilt twisted in Presence's stomach as she gathered her things. "I will. Thanks, KK. I'll call you later, I promise. To the moon and back"

As Presence rushed out of the café, Kel on her heels, the weight of her secret pressed down on her like a thousand unspoken words. Her mind raced back to senior year, when her world had shattered with her father's inexplicable death. While whispers and rumors swirled around her like harmattan leaves, it was KK who had been her lighthouse in the storm.

KK, with his painted nails and gentle soul, had reached out when others pulled away. In a sea of judgment, he'd been her lifeboat, teaching her that friendship could be an act of rebellion against the world's cruelty. Together, they'd coined their own language of belonging: "to the moon and back," a phrase that held the entirety of their bond in five simple words.

Now, with each step away from the café, Presence felt like she was walking on the moon itself - distant and disconnected from the person who knew her best. The irony wasn't lost on her; here she was, keeping KK in the dark when he had once been the one to guide her through it.

Once they were a safe distance away, she turned to the ghost with a frustrated sigh. "Look, Kel," she began, keeping her voice low, "I can't keep doing this. You can't just pop up whenever you want and expect me to drop everything. I have relationships, a life in the living world. I can't jeopardize that because of you."

Kel's face fell, genuine remorse crossing his features. "I'm sorry, Presence. I didn't think... I just knew I needed your help, and it felt urgent."

Presence's expression softened slightly at his apology. "I understand, but we need to figure out a better system. I can't keep lying to my friends or acting weird in public."

They continued walking until they reached a secluded spot behind one of the campus buildings. Presence leaned against the wall, crossing her arms as she faced Kel.

"Okay," she said, her tone becoming serious. "What's this urgent problem?"

Kel ran his hand through his rough high top fade, a gesture of frustration and worry as he spoke about Anthony. Presence found herself momentarily distracted, her eyes tracing the contours of Kel's face. She hadn't really taken the time to properly observe him before.

He was a skyscraper of a boy, the kind that made even Presence's 5'8" frame feel small. As she tilted her chin up to meet his eyes, she calculated the vastness between them - a solid four inches of air and unspoken history. Her gaze caught on the beauty mark above his left lip, a tiny pattern on its own, before wandering to the patchy beard that clung to his jaw like a child's desperate attempt at adulthood. It was an unfinished masterpiece, she thought, much like the boy himself - all sharp angles and soft edges, a reminder that growing up isn't a destination but a journey, often accelerated by forces beyond our control.

Suddenly, something Kel said snapped her out of her reverie. Her eyes widened, and she blurted out, "I'm sorry, what?"

Kel paused, looking at her with a mixture of confusion and concern. "I said, Anthony and I used to sneak into Pa Obinna's Bar when we were underage. We know all the back entrances and hiding spots. That's probably why he chose it for the fight."

Presence's eyes widened in alarm as Kel's words finally sank in. "Excuse me, what? A gang fight? No no no no NO! Never!! I am not getting myself in the middle of a gang fight!"

Kel held up his hands placatingly. "Presence, calm down. It's not as bad as it sounds-"

"Not as bad?" Presence interrupted, her voice rising an octave. "Kel, I very much like being alive. You know, breathing, having a heartbeat, not being see-through like some paranormal fashion statement!"

Kel couldn't help but chuckle at her description. "Look, I promise it's not as dangerous as you think. These guys are more bark than bite-"

"Oh, great! So instead of getting stabbed, I'll just get punched. Much better!" Presence retorted sarcastically.

"You won't get punched," Kel insisted. "Or stabbed. Or even lightly tapped. You'll be like... a ghost. But, you know, alive."

Presence raised an eyebrow. "A living ghost? Is that supposed to be comforting?"

"You'd be fine, Pres," he said, the nickname falling from his lips like a challenge.

"Don't call me that," Presence shot back, her finger a loaded gun aimed at his chest.

"Okay, okay," Kel conceded, his hands rising in mock surrender, palms out like he was trying to calm a spooked animal. His voice softened, taking on that infuriatingly confident tone that made Presence want to believe him and run away in equal measure. "The plan is foolproof. Nothing can go wrong, I promise."

But Presence knew better. In her eighteen years of life, she'd learned that 'nothing can go wrong' was the universe's favorite invitation to prove otherwise. Still, there was something in Kel's eyes, a spark of reckless hope, that made her want to leap anyway - if only to see where they'd land. "So, you're saying you know the layout of the place?"

Kel nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah, like the back of my hand. If we can get there before the fight starts, I might be able to guide you to Anthony without drawing too much attention."

Presence bit her lip, considering the implications. "Okay, but how do I explain knowing all this? And more importantly, how do I convince Anthony to back down without revealing that I'm getting information from his dead best friend?"

Kel's brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe... maybe you could say you overheard some guys talking about it in the café? It's not far from the truth."

Presence nodded slowly, her mind racing. "That could work. But I still need a reason for caring enough to intervene. It's not like Anthony and I are close friends."

"What about Funi?" Kel suggested. "You could say you're worried about how this would affect her if Anthony gets hurt."

Presence felt a pang of guilt at the mention of Kel's girlfriend. "That... that might actually work. I know her from a few clubs we've shared."

As their whispered strategies wove through the air, Presence felt reality slip sideways, like a book with its pages out of order. Just days ago, her biggest worry had been acing her math final. Now, she was co-conspirator to a dead boy, plotting to derail a gang war like it was some kind of after-school activity.

She stole a glance at Kel, his face etched with the kind of determination usually reserved for epic quests in fantasy novels. It was absurd, really. She should be terrified, or at least questioning her sanity. Instead, she felt a strange bloom of something warm and electric in her chest.

Here was a boy she'd never spoken to in life, a footnote in her university existence, now becoming the co-author of her most insane chapter yet. And the craziest part? It felt right, like finding a puzzle piece you didn't know was missing.

Presence wondered, not for the first time, if this is what people meant when they talked about fate. Not some grand, predestined connections, but these small, impossible moments that change everything - a collision of worlds that shouldn't work, but somehow, miraculously, do.

"Alright," she said finally, straightening her shoulders. "Let's do this. But Kel, promise me one thing?"

He looked at her questioningly.

"If we manage to pull this off, you owe me a full explanation of... well, everything. How you became a ghost who won't pass on to the afterlife, why I can see you, all of it."

Kel's face softened into a small smile. "Deal. And Presence?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. I know this isn't easy for you."

"Sure," Presence replied with a wry smile. "Just add it to my ghostly resume: 'Gang fight prevention specialist.'"

Kel laughed heartily at her joke, his ghostly form shaking with mirth. "Alright, I'll let you get back to your normal, non-ghostly life for now," he said, waving goodbye.

"Right," Presence said, amusement dancing in her eyes. Then, her expression turned serious. "Oh, and Kel? We need to set some ground rules. No more eavesdropping or secretly following me around, okay? I need my privacy."

Kel nodded earnestly. "Of course. Sure."

Presence glanced at her watch. "I've got a class in five minutes. Where should we meet up later? The gang fight's not until evening, right?"

"How about the old library?" Kel suggested.

Presence smiled and nodded. "Perfect. See you then."

As Presence turned to go, Kel's form flickered like a faulty streetlight, then winked out of existence. She rolled her eyes, a gesture caught somewhere between "I can't believe this is my life now" and "Show-off ghost boy."

Then, as if the universe decided her day wasn't quite surreal enough, her phone erupted in a peppy jingle that felt about as appropriate as confetti at a funeral. Presence fished it out of her pocket, her stomach doing an Olympic-level somersault when she saw the caller ID.

Mom.

"What now?" she muttered, frustration coloring her voice. For a fleeting moment, she considered letting it go to voicemail, filing it under "future Presence's problems." But the weight of familial obligation (and let's be real, the fear of mom-level guilt trips) won out.

With a sigh that could rival the most put-upon teenagers in literary history, Presence swiped to answer.

"Hello?" she said, trying to infuse her voice with a neutrality she definitely didn't feel.

Her mother's voice crackled through the speaker, bypassing pleasantries with the efficiency of a heat-seeking missile. "Where are you?"

Presence rolled her eyes skyward, as if seeking divine intervention from the scorching sun. Of course, that would be the first question. Because in the grand cosmic joke that was her life, even a simple 'hello' was too much to ask for.

As she formulated a response that wouldn't add 'liar' to her rapidly growing list of job titles, Presence couldn't help but wonder: was this what growing up was all about? Juggling ghosts, best friends and crushes, potential gang fights, and cryptic phone calls from clairvoyant mothers?

If so, she was beginning to think adulthood was seriously overrated.

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I apologize for not following my regular schedule of updating on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I'll get back on track starting tomorrow, and you can expect new updates from me on the usual days. Drop a vote, leave a comment, and perhaps even share with a friend. Appreciate it!🤍