Chapter One

Live every moment like it's your last—at least, that's what people say. We never know what life will bring or what will happen. Life doesn't come with guarantees.

 

It's a good thing, really. There's no set path forward which keeps things interesting, and whether that is good or bad remains to be seen. One thing's for sure: life likes to surprise you.

 

"Morning, John."

 

It's nice to see Hannah waiting for me when I walk into school every morning; it was pretty lonely before. I have more casual acquaintances than friends, but I wasn't interested in any of the clubs or sports teams, and here at Deep Harbour High, if you're not in a group, you're alone.

 

Sometimes, it feels like someone took the cliques you see in old movies and made them concrete rules: talking to your group and only your group, not to anyone else, not unless a class makes it mandatory.

 

Sure, it's a little lonely, but I'm used to being on the outside looking in; it's familiar.

 

This, of course, brings me back to Hannah. "Morning to you, too." She's the complete opposite of me. The only thing we have in common is height. With the odd pair of heels, Hannah is actually taller than I am.

 

Cheerleading captain, a queen bee of the school. Someone who should never be talking to me in a million years - except I'm the only one who can see her.

 

Hannah Meadows died twenty-five years ago; there was an accident on the way to the state championships, and apparently, she never left high school.

 

I'm not totally sure why I can see Hannah; I've never seen ghosts before her or since, really. Every so often, there's like an itch in my eyes, but so far, Hannah is the only ghost I can see.

  

She won't tell me if there's more.

 

One of the few benefits of being invisible around here is I can talk to Hannah, and no one cares. Oh, some people give me the odd look, but I can usually hold up my cell phone or point to my ear. Sure, sometimes it doesn't work, but it's literally better than everyone thinking I'm talking to thin air.

 

"So, are you going to do it?"

 

"She'll never go for it."

 

I have a crush on Payton Reed, my old friend. We share third-period art, and I've been debating whether to talk to her or ask her out for coffee. I don't know; I've never asked anyone out before.

 

"Please, do it for me. I'm dying here."

 

Or just dead, but it would be really rude to point that out. Hannah's just so peppy. Sometimes, I think she forgets I'm not her or one of the jocks or popular kids. I'm just John, and despite being alive, I'm just as invisible as Hannah is.

 

"She'll say no."

 

There's absolutely nothing I can offer to Payton. That's why we aren't friends anymore.

 

"Please, please, please! Seriously, nothing happens at this school. Sure, I can practice the new cheer routines and see who's kissing who behind the bleachers, but I can't give them feedback or anything." Hannah smiles at me, and just like every other time, it takes my breath away. Girls like her never look at me like that. "Unless you want to reconsider joining the cheer team. I could coach them through you!"

 

It's never going to happen.

 

"Hannah, I'm not you. Even if I was interested, I'm not athletic enough, and they wouldn't take me anyway."

 

There. Three very good reasons.

 

The bell interrupts whatever Hannah is about to say. She obviously thinks it's important because she stomps her foot, and just that image alone has me smiling all the way to homeroom.

***

Seeing ghosts, or at least one ghost, isn't all it's cracked up to be from watching movies, playing games or reading books.

 

Honestly, Hannah is just a massive distraction.

 

She isn't haunting the school, but I sometimes get the impression she's trying to live her best afterlife. Walking with the cool kids and participating in pep rallies—absolutely everything she did when she was alive, it's just artificial now.

 

I'm the only one who can cheer for her. Originally, I thought that might bother her, that of all the people who could see her, it's me. A nobody, but Hannah was just happy to be seen, finally. I hate how relatable that feels.

 

Third-period art looms in front of me, and Hannah has already tried to nudge me over to Payton. Her ability to affect the real world is limited. I've seen Hannah pick up objects, but nothing heavier than a backpack.

 

I might not be the biggest guy out there, but Hannah can't physically move me. Usually, I give in and just do what she wants. Her hands sink into me when she tries, and that always makes me feel like I've been submerged in ice water.

 

"Take your seats, everyone."

 

Hannah gives me one last pleading look before I slip into my seat. Mr Brown is decent enough for a teacher; he knows his subject, but sometimes I think he's a little too tethered to reality.

 

We're an art class, but he frowns if we do anything fantastical. He likes all of our assignments to reflect the world as he sees it, and to be honest, even discounting the ghost pouting at me from an empty desk, Mr Brown's reality seems a lot more boring than mine.

 

There's an entire world and a universe beyond Brightondale. Who knows what could exist beyond these walls, but Mr Brown doesn't seem interested in that. I had hoped that my art teacher this year would be more Ms Frizzle than not, but maybe in university?

 

"To perfect your portfolio for the end of this semester, I've assigned you each a partner to work with. How you critique is just as important as what you say. I've chosen your partners; break into groups as I call your names."

 

Oh, joy, a partner. 

 

Mr Brown starts rattling off names, and I mostly zone out until he says, "Miller and Reed." And Hannah's scream of joy drowns out whatever else he said. She's going to be relentless.

 

Payton glances over at me, and I wave. Then, she's on her way over. Hannah, meanwhile, is almost vibrating in the seat she's claimed, maybe actually vibrating - I think it's moving a bit. No one else seems to be reacting to it, so it might just be my imagination.

 

"Hi, John."

 

"Morning Payton." 

 

It's not like we haven't talked before;  it's just been a while. We've shared at least one class since second grade, so we're familiar with one another. I just haven't been partnered with Payton since I realised I had a crush on her or since our friendship ended.

 

I don't really have time to worry about that because Payton's already talking.

 

"Are you still working on that fantasy set?" 

 

Off and on for the last four years or so, Mr Brown's disapproval has made working on it more complicated, but it's my vision, not his. My reality just has more depth than his.

 

"Critics notwithstanding, I am. How about you, floating islands in space?" 

 

Hannah's pushing her hands together, and that's something I'll need to be careful with. I absolutely wouldn't put it past her to shove mine and Payton's heads together.

 

She's such a meddler.

 

"Definitely, I pivoted a little. Habitable asteroids in a planetary ring." Payton laughs. "I guess some things never change."

 

When was the last time I just chatted with Payton, eighth or ninth grade? She went to summer camp, and once she came back, she started pulling away; I've never been the type to chase someone.

 

I thought Payton might come back when she was ready, but she never did. Sometimes, I wonder if that's my fault. Instead of giving her space, I should have sought her out and pushed her.

 

There's nothing I can do about that now.

 

"Why change what works? Did you want to swap portfolios?"

 

Hannah's making kissy faces at me, and I roll my eyes, thankfully out of Payton's sight. That's hardly the impression I want to give her.

 

"Sure, sounds great."

 

There is a lot of idle conversation in the classroom. Everyone is doing what Payton and I are doing, chitchatting under a thin veil of actual classwork.

 

Payton's sketchbook has a familiar crescent moon on the cover, and I have to catch the sketchbook when I almost drop it in surprise. I drew that for her in sixth grade.

 

Oh, the design has changed a bit. The seal inside the crescent is different, which also makes me ache a little.

 

Has she still been iterating on that design for the past few years?

 

That's, wow.

 

Maybe Hannah has a point.

 

There's time for that later. I really should get past the cover. Flipping through the first few pages, I find it startling how familiar some of this is. It's only when I get to a sketch of a binary system that I have to ask.

 

"Payton, is this Iridia Prime?"

 

We only ever talked about it—the location of an ancient superweapon—but our projects never reached the point where it was relevant. It feels right, though. There are little bits of detail that scream it.

 

"Yep! I finally figured it out." Payton is almost vibrating. "I was actually about to ask you about this." And she tilts my sketchbook so I can see it. "I didn't realise you were doing a whole Buffy thing."

 

Buffy thing?

 

And then the meaning slams into me: Delia Drake, my protagonist. I kept changing what she did for a living: she was a college student, detective, high school senior, and reporter. This sketchbook has half a dozen photos of Hannah in her cheerleading uniform.

 

Of course, Payton thinks those sketches are relevant. I'm lucky that our school changed the uniforms a few years ago. I don't need people to ask too many awkward questions.

 

"I'm still fiddling, but a cheerleader who solves supernatural crimes while trying to make it to tryouts works." Hannah knows everything about cheerleading I could ever need to know, and that might be a good solution, regardless.

 

"She's pretty; you've got really good at capturing moments. I can picture what happens next so easily."

 

Hannah's beaming from her chair. She prides herself on her appearance. I don't blame her; if I looked like her, I probably would, too.

 

"Thank you. Your depth of field is really incredible now."

 

The bell rings, but I don't jump out of my seat, and neither does Payton. I missed this; I was just chattering with her for hours, and it looks like she missed it, too.

 

"Hey, I have to run. I have fourth-period calculus, but would you like to come over after school? We could continue there."

 

I think my heart just stopped, but eventually I manage to say.

 

"Sure, that sounds great."

 

"Cool, meet you out front." And then Payton's out the door, and I need to pack myself up.

 

Hannah's been doing literal cartwheels down the halls; she's thrilled. It isn't a date or anything close to it, but I have to admit, I really enjoyed talking to Payton again a lot.

 

Today actually makes me even more hesitant to ask Payton out. We talked and had a good time - good enough that I'm worried about ruining our easy rapport.

 

I missed Payton a lot more than I expected. What if asking her out means you won't talk again?

 

No. I can't risk that.

 

Fourth period was a blur, and I really hope that no homework was assigned; I blinked, and the class was over.

 

I'm too caught up in my thoughts.

 

"So are you coming today, or are you going to practice, Hannah?"

 

She usually insists on attending the cheerleader practices, but she stops and rolls her eyes at me. "Coming, obviously. You two look adorable together."

 

"Such a gossip."

 

As far as I've been able to figure out, Hannah can go anywhere she wants. She isn't limited to just school grounds, but she usually needs to walk there. If we're in contact, she can climb into vehicles with me.

 

The cold sensation takes some getting used to, but it's worth it for the smile she gives me when we go to the mall, the beach, or even the movies a few times. One thing about Hannah is that she's been expanding my experiences.

 

I'm a homebody, and by letting her live vicariously through me, I've lived a little bit more myself. It's been nice.

 

"There's your girlfriend," Hannah says before she glances over towards the quad.

 

"She isn't my girlfriend, but thanks."

 

A second pair of eyes does wonders for finding one person in a crowd. It only takes a minute to walk over to Payton, who smiles and waves when she sees me.

 

"Ready to go, John?"

 

A few students, including a couple of the cheerleaders, are looking at us as they walk towards practice. I guess my having a conversation with someone is notable.

 

"Definitely."

 

My hand twitches towards Payton's, and for a second, I imagine hers does, too. Then we're walking towards Payton's house. It's not quite like we used to, but it's still pretty nice.

 

Her house looks the same, and there's the odd photo of the two of us together. I'm honestly surprised they're still up. 

 

Hannah looks around and stares at the photos pretty intensely. I never told her that Payton and I used to be best friends. I'm sure she'll have plenty to say about it later.

 

"So, I was thinking we could go through each other's portfolios in more detail."

 

"Sure, sounds great."

 

We're sitting back to back, like old times, on the sofa when the door opens, and a head pops in.

 

"Hey Payton, hey Layla." Mrs Reed says, and I freeze. Layla Peters? From the cheerleading team, why would Payton's mom think I'm her? She startles and then smiles at me. "John! Come over here, it's been ages."

 

"Hi, Mrs Reed. It's good to see you." She throws her arms around me as soon as I get close, and I hug her back.

 

"What brings you by, feeling nostalgic for afternoon tea with your aunt?" There's a bit of emphasis on Aunt, and I smile.

 

Aunt Pattie, even if we're not related, Payton and I spent so much time together that we called each other's families aunt and uncle. 

 

"Classes, I'm sorry to admit. Tea sounds lovely through Auntie."

 

"Tea then, and then stay for dinner, John; I'll give Diane a ring and tell her not to fret."

 

Payton shakes her head in amusement. "I'd love to if it wouldn't be imposing."

 

"Definitely not. It's so wonderful to see you, John." And then Aunt Pattie heads off to start the tea. Being here today really is like coming home.

 

"So, can we just forget about Mom's slip-up?"

 

I have so many questions, and Hannah is looking at me with an apologetic face. Does she know something about this?

 

"Definitely, I'm curious, but it isn't my business." Not anymore. "Did you want to run me through what you've been working on?"

 

Payton breathes a sigh of relief, but something passes over her face so quickly that I can't figure out what it is before it's gone. "Sure, John, thanks."

 

Tea and then dinner were lovely, and Aunt Pattie told me to come back soon. I don't think that will be a problem. Payton and I started working together like clockwork, just slipping into old rhythms.

 

It was amazing.

 

Hannah was pretty quiet all afternoon, mostly with warm smiles, but once I was almost home, she said, "You two looked cosy, but you didn't ask her out."

 

"I couldn't; I've missed her, Hannah, a lot. I hadn't actually realised how much, but what if I ask her out, and that ruins it?"

 

I feel a cold chill as Hannah hugs me. "I saw the photos; you two used to be close."

 

"For a long time, yeah. I didn't think Payton knew Layla." More than we know anyone we go to school with, but if anyone knows the gossip, it's Hannah. "So, is there anything you'd like to share?"

 

"Cheerleader secret," Hannah says with a sly smile as if that explains everything, and in a way, it does.

 

Layla's a cheerleader, and Hannah still considers herself one. Everyone in the group has secrets and promises to keep them.

 

"I won't push then, Hannah."

 

She's allowed her secrets, just like Payton is allowed her privacy.

 

"You should still ask her, John; you would be a good match."

 

Maybe, but if what I'm starting to suspect is true, I never had a chance to begin with. I'm okay with that; I really enjoyed today.

***

Hannah has been chattering at me a mile a minute today. She slept over last night. We've done this a few times, but she usually heads off somewhere else.

 

I've been thinking that I should make it an open invitation. It isn't like Hannah has a home she can go to unless she actually goes home, and that sounds heartbreaking.

 

Besides, after the day I spent with Payton, I was happy for more company. For the first time in a while, I felt like a real person, and I'm going to chase that feeling for a while.

 

I'm looking forward to art and a chance to talk with Payton again when there's a shout; Dennis is riding his skateboard in the halls again. He isn't very good at it but insists on riding around, careening into lockers and people. It's annoying, but he's harmless.

 

Maybe I'm imagining things, but I swear the cheerleaders are watching me today. Every time I turn a corner, someone's there, mostly Layla, but Madison, Zoey, Caroline, or Kristy. Maybe one or two more; I don't know the names of.

 

It's odd. They've definitely never looked at me before; I would have noticed.

 

As I walk into class, Mr Brown  says, "Sit with your partner and get started." He seems to repeat this message to everyone as they filter in.

 

Payton gives me a shy smile; it's less open than yesterday, and it makes me think back to all the stares from the cheerleading team. 'Cheerleader secret', Hannah said, and it makes me wonder all the more about what Aunt Pattie let slip.

 

It really isn't my business, and if Payton is gay, I'm glad she figured herself out. 

 

I just don't understand why everyone's looking at me. Does Payton think I care about that kind of thing? Or is she actually with Layla, and is that a secret they're keeping from the school?

 

"Morning Payton."

 

She rolls her eyes at me. "It's afternoon, John."

 

"And yet, I wish you a good morning." I wink at Payton, and she laughs. "I was thinking about your sketches; I don't specifically have critiques. Each page shows a refinement of your skills.  The theme is distinct, and your use of colour is fantastic. Space is hard, but you're using purples, blacks and blues to add depth. Honestly, Pay. It's stunning."

 

She laughs. "Pay, really, Jay? Back to that old thing?"

 

"Only if you don't mind." There's a minor quiver in my voice. I really have missed her.

 

"Definitely not. Come over after school?"

 

Hannah's shaking her pom-poms; she's excited, but I'm positive that I'm right, that Payton's gay. That's fine; better than fine, really. I'm perfectly content to have my best friend back in some capacity.

 

"I'd love to see Aunt Pattie again." And then we're laughing like old times, loud enough. Mr Brown frowns at us both before he says. "Quiet down."

 

"Yes, sir." We both say and giggle. Well, I laugh; at least, I'm pretty sure it's a laugh.

 

"I appreciate the feedback from you, Jay. It means a lot. I envy your ability to infer motion." Payton flips through a few sketches and points at one of Hannah doing a front flip into a twist and then to a second photo of a handstand. "I can feel the connection points, that one leads to the other so clearly." She grins at me. "I didn't know you had a thing for cheerleaders; she's stunning."

 

Just one who winks at me, but Hannah is thrilled with the praise. 

 

"Having Delia be a cheerleader makes sense, even if she's more of a Cordelia. It actually filled in some of the narrative gaps I was struggling with. Captain of the team, working towards a scholarship while dealing with supernatural mysteries each week."

 

"It does. The blurred background when you focus the camera on Delia works nicely, though I'm sure Mr Brown will complain." And Payton taps the page.

 

It's an artistic choice, not a lack of skill.

 

"I'm prepared for that; flip to the back."

 

When Payton does, it's the entire image and background in detail. It's a fully realised world, and I see her leaning closer to the page to pick out those details.

 

"You should submit this, Jay, honestly."

 

I've thought about it a few times with the blurbs I've written for what's happening in a scene. They're more comic descriptions than anything.

 

"I submitted the next page for a contest last week."

 

Delia, who is really based on Hannah, stands in the middle of the football field with her raven's wings wrapped around her like a cloak. Payton flips to the page, and then she's smiling at me.

 

"I'm glad you did, or I would have yelled at you." She taps the raven on the beak, and I smile when she asks. "So what was her name again?"

 

"Payday."

 

"You didn't."

 

I absolutely did. Payton 'Payday' Reed. My best friend and a way I could keep her close, but at the same time.

 

"I can change it if you want; I just couldn't change it on my own." My eyes are starting to water a little; that's the last thing I want right now. Hannah smiles at me and shoves Nikki Prescott's steel thermos off of her desk. Once everyone turns to look at the noise, I wipe my eyes.

 

Payton probably noticed, there's a look on her face, but she doesn't say anything. I'm glad. I might have decided not to act on my crush, but I don't need to cry in front of her, either.

 

"Can you show me how you do the motion?"

 

"Absolutely." And not just because I'm happy to move on to something else. "The trick is to let your brain fill in the rest. It's why flip books work."

 

We spend the rest of class trading tips and occasionally writing notes. Technically, we're supposed to be critiquing, but I'm just happy to have this time together.

 

Class lets out, and we go our separate ways. Once I'm away from Payton and everyone else, I stop and look at Hannah. "Thank you."

 

"Oh please, John. That was easy. You looked like you needed a second."

 

"Still, I appreciate it."

 

Hannah has this habit of defying my expectations, and every time, I feel shitty for thinking she would be vapid or stuck up. I really need to be more open-minded; if ghosts are real and one cheerleader is good, maybe the rest are, too, or at least some of them. 

 

I should probably just try to be more friendly in general. Although Payton has only been back in my life for a day, it has really made it clear how lonely I have been.

 

"So, how does someone learn cheerleader secrets?"

 

I'm more surprised than I should be when Hannah tosses her pom-poms at me. "Suit up, of course. Give me an A!"

 

Not on her afterlife.

 

"No thanks."

 

"Your loss, Jay, and you'll have to tell me *all* about that later," Hannah says with a laugh.

 

Sure, it's not as painful as it was before, but for now, I have to get to class. 

***

The cheerleaders are definitely watching me, Kristy Michaels didn't take her eyes off me all class. It's weird, and I'm not the only one who's noticed. I'm sure I overheard someone mentioning it.

 

Whatever is going on, the cheerleaders don't seem worried about being subtle, and that concerns me. 

 

Hannah's still keeping quiet about it. We're friends, but she absolutely prioritises team loyalty over everything else, and I'm not a cheerleader.

 

I'm on my way to meet Payton when a hand darts out and pulls me into the girl's locker room. A glance around shows exactly who I expect: the cheerleading team, at least a few of them.

 

"Sit down, John," Layla says, and she points to a chair.

 

Well, okay then. Hannah's leaning against one of the lockers with a smile. If she isn't concerned, I don't need to be, not really, so I sit.

 

"Does Pay know about this?" She doesn't. 

 

"We'll ask the questions," Kristy says, and I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. They're taking whatever this is seriously, and I don't want to give them the wrong impression.

 

Payton's going to be looking for me in a few minutes, so I doubt the cheerleaders are going to keep me here too long.

 

"Just a friendly chat, John, for starters. We can be less friendly if we need to be. Rumours can be vicious things, and sneaking into our locker room? I'm sure the principal would love to hear all about it. Coach Vargas, too."

 

That actually makes me wince; it's seven against one, and no one would believe that they dragged me in here. Hannah gives me an apologetic shrug. Cheerleaders stick together.

 

"So what's going on exactly?"

 

"Whatever you think you know, you don't. If we hear you spreading any rumours about members of the team, you'll regret it."

 

The only thing I know is that Aunt Pattie thought I was Layla, which okay. We're about the same height, and we have the same hair colour.  She wears hers longer than mine, but a casual glance made Aunt Pattie think I was Layla, which implies familiarity.

 

"I don't know anything about anyone on the team. Besides, I'm pretty much invisible. No one would believe anything I said."

 

"He talks on his phone, but I've never seen him with anyone," Caroline says. That's depressing but accurate.

 

"Who do you talk to on the phone?"

 

"My friend. Hannah. She doesn't go here. Seriously, Layla. I don't know anything, can I go?"

 

"Give us the room." She says, and the rest of the cheerleaders file out. 

 

"Payton's going to be looking for you, so you do need to go. She misses you a lot. Don't hurt her, John."

 

"I've missed her too, a ton—more than I ever expected. Anything I might suspect is air. Cheerleader secret, I'm in your locker room after all."

 

Hannah grins at me and shakes her head.

 

"Sure, a cheerleader secret." There's something to Layla's tone, amusement, I think, but she just shakes her head. "I'll text you tonight. Go see Payton."

 

I didn't think Layla had my number, but I'm not about to argue with her either. Either she has it, somehow, or she'll get it from Payton. It's not like I've changed it.

 

The cheerleaders make sure I'm not seen as I leave their locker room. Only minutes later, I'm outside and see Payton waiting for me.

 

"Sorry, Pay, I got held up."

***

 

Hannah hasn't stopped grinning at me all afternoon, and since I'm on my way home, we finally have some privacy so that I can ask.

 

"What has you so amused?"

 

"You'll find out, Jay." I stop and roll my eyes at Hannah, honestly. Why can't she just tell me what's going on?

 

It doesn't matter, Payton and I had a great afternoon together, and I have a lot to work out. She and Layla are definitely a couple, and from what I vaguely remember from the gossip grapevine, Layla's parents are virulent homophobes. I at least suspect something that could bring her entire life crashing down.

 

No wonder the cheerleaders have been on my case.

 

My phone rings, and it's an unknown number. I usually don't answer those calls, but I'm expecting one today.

 

"Hello?"

 

"I'm pulling up, get in."

 

A red car screeches to a stop beside me, and Hannah grins at me again. The windows are tinted, but I open the passenger door and slip into the car, but not before I grab Hannah's hand. She settles into my lap, and I shiver.

 

I'm not sure if I'm ever going to get used to the chill.

 

"Hi, Layla."

 

"You don't have to be too nervous, John." I'm not exactly, but being nervous would explain my shiver. I can't exactly say a ghost is sitting in my lap. It's just the only way to bring Hannah along.

 

"So, where are we going?"

 

"You're buying me a milkshake."

 

Judging by this car, Layla has more money than I've ever imagined, but I can afford a milkshake and maybe some fries.

 

"I'm not dressed for a date." I look fine, but I don't look like I should be with Layla. "Not that I think that's what this is, but like appearance matters."

 

"We're doing the drive-thru, but thanks for thinking of me."

 

People are going to be talking regardless; it's just a matter of what they say. I don't need to add to the rumours by being seen in public with Layla, but speaking of.

 

"Does Payton know I'm with you?" I didn't mention it, but Layla might have.

 

"She does; I told her I wanted to speak to you." 

 

Good, that's one less secret I need to keep. 

 

"Okay." 

 

Hannah's still grinning at me; she's so distracting.

 

The car stops after a few minutes, and Layla looks at me. "What flavour?"

 

"Vanilla." I slip a hand into my coat and hand her a twenty. Layla said I was buying her a milkshake, but maybe I'll skip the fries for now. Even if the salt would be nice, I don't want to make a mess in Layla's car.

 

Layla takes the money with a roll of her eyes and leans out the window. "Two vanilla shakes."

She pulls up to the window, grabs our drinks, and then we're back on the road. 

 

I have no idea where we're going.

 

Hannah wraps her fingers around mine and, incidentally, the shake. That will at least keep it cool. 

 

After a few minutes, Layla peels off the road onto a wooded path, and I actually start to get worried. I let a basic stranger drive me to an unknown location.

 

The car pulls to a stop, and Layla climbs out without saying a word. Hannah shakes her head at me, but she does say. "You're fine, Jay. Trust me."

 

If I can trust anyone, it's Hannah.

 

We're in a clearing, up near the bluffs, I think. I've never come up here, but it feels right.

 

"So, I haven't brought you here to murder you." Layla's tone is blunt enough that I laugh, but I can see her hiding something behind her back.

 

"Good, that's good. I was sort of wondering."

 

"John, Payton vouched for you. You're good, mostly." She holds something out to me and wiggles it; it looks like a baton or something. "This is the spirit stick; hold it."

 

Umm, okay. I wrap my fingers around the spirit stick, and Hannah has one of the brightest smiles on her face that I've ever seen.

 

"Congratulations, you're now a cheerleader. So you can keep cheerleader secrets."

 

"I don't suppose I can say no?"

 

Layla laughs. "Nope, you're one of us now. We'll get you some pom-poms." Hannah shakes her own at me. 

 

I don't want to be a cheerleader, though. Sure, I did a little gymnastics as a kid, but it's been years.

 

"I guess I can carry stuff or something. It isn’t like you have any guys on the team" The last time I talked to Hannah about the team she said no guys signed up this year or last.

 

"John, John, John. We'll work out the details. Thanks for playing along."

 

It feels a little weird to be in the woods with Layla. The only light is the car's headlights, and we're holding milkshakes and a spirit stick.

 

"So, what's next?"

 

"Mostly just hang out, drink our milkshakes, and I get to know Payton's, John. She's over the moon that you two have reconnected."

 

"I don't even know what happened between us; just one day, there was this distance, and it just kept growing." 

 

One of my top regrets is not doing something about it, but we're together again, and that's the important thing.

 

Layla and Hannah both shrug almost at the same time. "Girl stuff."

 

Sure, girl stuff.

 

"So related to that, your teammates weren't exactly subtle about watching me. I overheard at least one person comment that Kristy was staring at me in fourth period."

 

"That girl, I swear." Layla shakes her head. "We'll figure something out; worst case, we'll tell everyone that she was scouting you unless you want a date." There's a smirk in her tone.

 

"Nah, I don't need to hurt her reputation." 

 

To my surprise, Layla scowls at me. "None of that on my team; be nice to yourself."

 

"I'm being perfectly nice." Hannah wraps her arms around me, and I shiver, and to my surprise, Layla nods.

 

"Let's get you back in the car; you seem cold tonight."

 

"It's been a weird couple of days. I've been on edge."

 

I'm shocked but thrilled when Layla turns the heat on in her car once we're back inside. The heat doesn't bother Hannah, and it nicely offsets the chill.

 

"So, you're coming to the dance on Friday, right?"

 

I never go to the dances; I mostly go to the pep rallies for Hannah, but the dances have always sounded lonely. Standing what, by the wall alone? I can do that at home.

 

"Nope, I've never gone."

 

"Teams stick together, John; you're coming to the dance." Layla winks at me. "Half the squad is single; we'll find someone for you to dance with."

 

There's only really one girl I want to dance with, but she's taken, and I don't want to interfere with that.

 

"I don't even know how to dance, not really."

 

Layla laughs hard, and I look at her in surprise. "Payton said differently."

 

Fuck.

 

"That traitor." She wasn't supposed to tell anyone, sure. We never promised, but it's the principle of the thing.

 

You memorise one dance from a music video, and it will haunt you forever.

 

"Zoey and Kristy are both good dancers; they're happy to lead if you don't mind it."

 

"Layla, I'm not part of any of the clubs; you don't need to do this. Payton was my best friend for years; I don't need to be bribed into keeping a secret."

 

It honestly feels shitty that Layla thinks she needs to invite me into her inner circle, throw her friends at me to make sure I don't ruin her life. 

 

"It isn't a bribe, but I can see why it's coming off that way, and I'm sorry for that." I'm shocked when she reaches over and pats my hand, right over where Hannah has hers, and Layla shivers. "You're freezing! But seriously, John, you seem like a good guy; you have a crush on Payton, and you're keeping it quiet."

 

"Is it that obvious?"

 

"Just to me, some of the girls suspect, but Payton's oblivious."

 

"Good, that's good. I thought about telling Pay, but then we reconnected and losing her again terrifies me." I glance away from Layla out the window. We barely know one another, and I'm just bearing my soul to her.

 

"You just want your friend back."

 

"Yeah…" 

 

"Let me take you home, we're good. Seriously, I'll let the team know, but I'm glad we talked tonight, John."

 

I take a deep breath. "Me too, I'm glad Payday has you." She deserves to be happy.

 

"Payday? She told me she never had a nickname!"

 

That lightens the mood considerably, and now I'm almost doubled over in my seat, laughing. It's a little awkward since it presses Hannah against me, but I can't help it.

 

"Fourth grade, after Halloween. She called dibs on all my payday bars, and it stuck." Technically, I'm not supposed to share that, but if Payton can share my attempts at dancing, I can share her nickname.

 

"Good to know, really good to know. Don't be surprised if you're added to a few group chats tonight."

 

Sure, why not? I get my best friend back, and suddenly, my life is changing.