Harriet answered his questions, trying to work out how to shake him off. She’d only agreed to the date because she thought it would be a good idea to keep him on her side. He might turn out to be useful. But the way he’d lit up when she’d said yes had made her regret it immediately.
Harriet had found herself joining in when they were all messing around. She’d even made a joke that they’d all laughed at, which had been a surprise. She wasn’t used to being funny. During primary school, her class had voted for their star classmate of the week, whose picture was put up on a display board. It was a popularity contest, mostly. Everyone in the class got picked at some point, either on their birthday or because they’d made up a fun game in the playground. Everyone except Harriet.
Making Rima and the others laugh was like finally getting chosen as star classmate. But she had to stop wasting time and distracting herself like that. Having friends wasn’t going to help her.
When Kasper tripped on a step, mid-sentence, and started stumbling forward, Harriet felt something stretch inside her chest. She reached forward and grabbed his arm before he could lose balance. If a ghost fell, it was possible they might just keep falling down through every floor of the building.
“Thanks,” he said, righting himself.
The bubbling feeling inside her chest disappeared. Harriet frowned, trying to work out what it had been.
“Shall we meet in my room?” Kasper asked. “Then we can hang out before the party starts.”
“Sure,” she said, rubbing her sternum distractedly. “Is it OK if I have some alone time until then?”
“Oh!” Kasper said. “Yeah, no worries. You must still be processing everything.” He gestured vaguely at her ghostly form.
“Mmm.”
“See you soon.” He backed off down the hall, grinning at her in a lazy, pleased-with-himself manner.
She gave him a little wave, then sighed with relief. She’d have to do her best to avoid him until the next day. When she was alive, she hadn’t been invited to many parties after freshers’ week had ended. A Halloween party could be fun, she supposed, though it was slightly annoying that she couldn’t change any of her clothes. She was stuck in the boring khaki outfit she’d died in.
At least she could change her hairstyle, to make it more suitable for a party. Her make-up was fine too – she’d been wearing her most popular YouTube make-up tutorial look when she’d died, ‘Boss Babe Hustle Eyes’n’Lips’. It wasn’t a bad look to have for all eternity.
Finally alone, she went to check her phone on the fifth floor. Her gran had left a series of increasingly frustrated voicemails.
“Harriet, darling, where are you? You know how I worry about you. Call me.”
“Harriet, where are you? It’s very unfair of you to leave me in the dark like this. I’m not well. Please call me back immediately.”
“Harriet, if you don’t come home this evening, I’m afraid we’re going to have a serious discussion about your curfew. This is unacceptable.”
Harriet leant back on her heels, wondering what to do now. The messages had left her squirming with guilt and determination. How had she already wasted so much time?
She had been wracking her brains to think of things that she could trade for another animal spirit. Now it occurred to her, as she stared down at her phone, that all the ghosts seemed to be fascinated by the technology. Felix had practically begged for a chance to test it out. Maybe she could trade time on the Internet for more animal spirits. It was worth a shot.
Harriet explored each floor, searching for the rat-hunting guy she’d spoken to on the stairs earlier. She found him in the third-floor kitchen, with his head stuck inside the fridge.
“I have something to trade now,” she said to his rear end. He jumped, the back of his low-slung jeans slipping down even further. “What if I let you use my phone for a bit?”
“Oh yeah, princess?” he said, extracting himself from the refrigerator. He considered her through narrow eyes for a moment. “What’s the point of that? Who would I call?”
“It goes online. A lot has changed since you died. You can look up whatever kind of stuff you want now.”
“On a phone?” He sounded sceptical. “I can look up anything? Like, X-rated stuff?”
“Uh.” She paused. It wasn’t like she was ever going to use the phone again – the battery would be dead soon. There was no reason not to let him infect it with viruses. The tips of her fingers were tingling at the memory of the rat energy rush. She needed another, whatever it took. “Sure.”
He looked at her more carefully, then. “What did you say your name was?”
She hadn’t. “It’s Harriet Stoker.”
He grinned. “All right, Stoker. Lead the way. I’m Greg.”
She took Greg back up to the fifth floor. A few ghosts were chatting on the stairs, and they looked between Harriet and Greg in surprise.
“Sup,” he said to them.
To Harriet’s surprise, the girls pressed up against the stairs to avoid him, not acknowledging his greeting.
Upstairs, there was a Shell floating over Harriet’s phone. She flapped her hands at it, pushing the boy away. Greg inspected the phone in wonder. “How does it work?”
“It’s voice-activated. I’ll unlock it, then you can just tell it what you want to see. Only … wait until I’ve gone, please.” Harriet hid a grimace. She didn’t even want to imagine what Greg wanted to search for.
“All right,” he said, and held out a hand. “You’ve got a deal.”
Harriet went to shake it, and then pulled back. He’d agreed suspiciously quickly. “What are you giving me for it? I’ll let you use it for fifteen minutes for one rat spirit.”
He frowned down at his outstretched hand, then back at her. “I don’t have any rats at the moment, but I’ll give you a mouse for it.”
“Three mice.”
“It’s worth a mouse and a half at the most.” He waggled his hand. “Come on, Harriet.”
“Two mice,” she said.
He sucked his teeth. “All right. Two mice. Shake on it?”
She paused, eyeing him. What did she really know about Greg? Those girls on the stairs hadn’t even wanted to make eye contact with him. He could be trying to swindle her somehow. “I want the mice before you use the phone.”
“Sure. Whatever you want.” He pushed his hand towards her again. She finally took it.
When her skin touched his, all her doubts left her mind. He was on her side – of course he was. She couldn’t remember why she’d ever doubted him.
“A mouse and a half, then,” he said, grip tight around her palm.
“Sure,” she said faintly.
He released her hand. Harriet swayed slightly, blinking.
Greg grinned at her, a lazy smile tugging up the side of his mouth. “Perfect,” he said, and pulled a mouse spirit out of his shirt pocket. He breathed in deeply, his tongue curling around the tail, then passed the other half over to Harriet. She closed her eyes and inhaled, letting the energy roll over her. It was amazing how quickly it worked to make her feel more alive.
It wasn’t anywhere near enough to manifest her power, but the buzz was still worth the trade. While Greg spent his fifteen minutes using her phone, Harriet found herself gazing deep inside a cobweb threaded across the ceiling.