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T hat night, Jax and I are crossing the wedge back from his car when I hear a scream behind us .

Evan comes up behind us. He’s walking fast, head down, hands in his pockets .

The ghost is on his heels .

She looks at me, her eyes wide and pleading ,

Then Evan looks up, and our eyes meet. His eyes widen as if he realizes I’ve seen the ghost behind him. Maybe my face gives me away. I make myself smile and then raise a hand, belatedly, in a wave. He rushes past us. So does the ghost .

“What’s going on?” Jax asks me impatiently. Then he seems to check his tone, because he bumps my shoulder with his, and he sounds teasing when he speaks again. “Do you have a crush on that meathead ?”

“No.” Definitely not. I think he might have murdered that girl. “I’ve got to go do some homework .”

“We don’t have homework yet,” Jax says. “The first day of classes is tomorrow .”

Awkward. This is the one and only moment in my life I will ever be sad about not having homework. “ Right .”

Jax sighs, tucking his hair behind his ears .

“Look,” I tell him, “I will be normal soon. Next week, maybe? I just have a lot going on right now .”

He shakes his head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep .”

“Thank you for the ride.” I stare up at him, at his hazel eyes and his stubborn jaw, the slightly petulant cast his kissable lower lip takes on. I think I’m the only one who brings out Jax’s pout .

“No problem.” His voice is flat .

Instead of his coldness pushing me away, it pulls me closer. Before I can lose him, impulse flares, giving me a burst of energy. Just kiss him. What am I waiting for? The perfect moment? If there’s one thing I learned from my near-death experience, it’s that you’d better be grateful for any moment, even if it’s not perfect. You never know how many you have. And I want to spend some of my moments with Jax .

I grab his forearm and tug him toward me, surprising us both, I think, because he resists automatically, leaning away from me. But I’ve already committed, bobbing up onto my tip-toes, and it’s too late to stop. I brush my lips against his smooth cheek and then back away, my cheeks blazing .

“Ash.” He reaches out for me, and his voice is full of regret .

“No time!” I keep backing away. “ Next week !”

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect — ”

I wave at him over my shoulder, and, even though we’re headed in the same direction, I make a run for the dorm .

A few minutes later, when I close the door to my room behind me, my heart is pounding. Maybe it’s from the jog—I lost a lot of endurance during that coma—or maybe it’s because Evan saw me, seeing the ghost, or maybe it’s from that kiss. That embarrassing disaster of a kiss .

Whatever. I have a ghost to focus on. Once I’ve released the soul of this poor girl, who is stuck dragging her hot pink backpack all over Kensey State, then I can be normal .

Well, then I can try to be normal .

“I wish you’d just talk to me,” I mutter as I slide into my desk chair and open my laptop. I glance at the door, but my ghost hasn’t materialized. Has Evan been there every time I’ve seen her ?

I wrack my brain, trying to remember if he was in the hallway that first day. But I hadn’t noticed him yet, so the faceless mass of people carrying duffel bags down the hall in my memory remains faceless. Still, every other time I’ve seen my ghost walking—as opposed to trapped in the mirror—she’s been with him .

Maybe the dorm isn’t haunted .

Maybe Evan is haunted .

Maybe he killed that girl .

As soon as the thought settles in to my mind, I’m sure of it, and a dark pit opens in my stomach. He saw me noticing. He might very well realize that someone knows his secret… and if he killed once, he might very well be willing to kill again .

Where is Evan from? I quickly look up our dorm’s social media page, scrolling through the members until I come to his name, and then click on his profile. He’s from Hastings, Virginia, so I google murders in Hastings Virginia .

Hastings, Virginia seems like a nice place to live, because the last murder I pull up was in the 1970’s. That is not the corpse I’m looking for. I try again, searching for missing people, and then broadening my search. Finally, I come across a missing girl, a runaway, from near Hastings .

When I click on the information wanted page for the girl, Beth Calley, the face of my ghost pops up in front of me .

Beth Calley played hooky from school and never came home, but people think she was just a runaway .

I know the truth .

I head out into the hallway, determined to have a friendly conversation with Evan. I plan to imply that even though I’ve seen the ghost following him, I’m not suspicious of him at all. I’ll pretend I believe the ghost follows him because she’s in love with him. I need to do damage control, so his guard won’t be up .

I pass Jax’s door, which is propped open, and I stop and glance in his room. I really want to talk to him, even though I can’t afford to be distracted right now. His guitar is thrown across his rumpled green comforter, like he just stopped practicing, but his room is empty .

I turn back into the hallway, and see the ghost standing at the end, by the door. She gestures to me frantically. She wants me to follow her. What if Evan is headed off campus ?

Fuck .

I shoot one quick glance up and down the quiet hallway and then run into Jax’s room, grabbing his keys off his desk .

I’m a terrible friend, but he’s always known that .