I can’t have been asleep for more than an hour, maybe two, when my bedroom door swings open with a long, shivering groan. I ignore it—the door never latches right in winter, and our apartment is draftier than a frilly skirt on a windy day.
But then there’s a touch on my foot, the barest hint of pressure on the duvet, and I am instantly, fully, awake.
“We’ve got company, Cupcake,” a voice says from the chair beside my bed.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. Why did you let it in?”
“Last I checked, I wasn’t a doorman,” he says.
Still soundless, the thing continues its path around my bed, moving ever closer to where my head is resting on the pillow. I tuck my chin to my chest, shifting so the blankets cover most of my face, just in case. Ghosts won’t try to get physical, usually, not if my oh-so-helpful partner Zeke is around. But it never hurts to be cautious.
“Gross,” Zeke says, and even though I know better I open my eyes.
I relax. It's not a ghost after all. But Zack is still tense.
"For craps sake," he says. "You know I don't mind you writing that stuff, Honey. And I have no issue with you spending hours online every day with your research. And I never once complained when you invited him to stay here for a few days, even when the few days turned into a few months. But damn it, Cupcake, does he have to keep coming in here half naked and 'hanging out' on our bed?"
Evil Editor clears his throat, scratches himself, and tucks his balls back into his shorts.
Opening: Mary Miltner.....Continuation: Anon.