How Curiosity Killed the Cat and the Ghost Was Brought Back

The New kid

Kat returned to the manor to find her dad half-asleep, lying lopsided in a chair he had dragged from the living room to wait for her. James woke up with a start at the sudden creak of the door. He managed to catch his glasses just as they fell from the bridge of his nose.

"Where have you been?" His tone was less stern than it was plain worried. He gently felt her face and forehead before throwing a blanket around her shoulders, despite her temperature already being back to normal.

"Have you seen Casper?" Kat said, breathlessly.

James, still recovering from his panic, was slow to process the question. He looked around the room. "I think I saw him around here, maybe a couple hours ago?"

Kat felt something cold like ice on her cheeks, either tears or dripping sweat. She pulled the blanket tighter. The trek home was not-so surprisingly the least exhausting part of the night.

James looked back to her. "Is everything okay?"

"I guess," she shrugged, unsure if she wanted him to get involved. He was a professional psychiatrist, after all. On other hand, he was her dad. ". . .I'm not sure."

James sighed. His hands tucked into the pockets of his cardigan while the heels of his feet rocked up and down against the creaky floor. If he was trying to conceal his regret for giving up the blanket, he wasn't doing the best job. "Is anyone injured or on the run from the police?" To translate: it was his way of asking whether or not she actually wanted him to stick his nose into what otherwise wouldn't be any of his business.

"No, it's okay," Kat gave a small smile. "I'm sure it'll work itself out."

She couldn't promise herself that everything would really work itself out. She had always been quick to jump to Casper's side in times like this. They had always supported each other. But considering that she was the reason he was acting so coldly, Instinct told her to leave it alone. Despite her uncertainty, maybe that's what he really needed. Maybe it was time for Casper to cope on his own.

Kat pushed away everything clouding her thoughts. Her chest still felt heavy. "Right now I just want to get some sleep."

* * *

There was an aching chill that lingered in her bones from the previous night, another side effect of the growing guilt meshing with anxiety. Kat wrapped her arms tighter around herself and sunk deeper into her seat.

"Raise your hand if you brought your permission slip," Ms. Buckley announced. "I need signatures for everyone interested in the field trip."

A dozen hands flew into the air like flags, waving their slips of paper as Ms. Buckley began to weave in between desks. With their teacher distracted, students began shifting around in their seats and turning heads to exchange hushed laughs and gossip. Kat stared at the clock above the chalkboard, letting her vision blur as she began to zone out and all of the chatter muffled into white noise. She snapped out of the self-induced trance, at first from annoyance at the volume of the room, but her attention was quickly caught by bits and pieces of overheard gossip. Most of the class seemed to be in on the news.

"Where is he from?"

"Why did he transfer?"

"Do you think he's cute? I think he's cute."

Kat searched the room for a new face. She may as well have been searching through a football stadium. With all of the commotion, she wasn't too concerned about her subtlety. It wasn't like those conversations with friends when someone says "don't look now," but you still take a peek at the worst possible moment. Everyone around her worked as camouflage- or at least that's what she thought before she turned to face the desk behind her.