Sorry for the delay, but I was on a holiday and didn't have time to write and then got sick just recently, so...

Also, let me know if you'd like a short story of the Geshleigh relationship progressing!


We look onto the sunset for several minutes, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Even Gabriel looks a bit more peaceful. Then George throws his arms over Fred and Gabi's shoulders. "We'll be preparing for the summoning. Ladies," he winks and drags the boys with him. ("Ay! Let me go you ugly eyebrow demon!")

When they're out of sight, Ashleigh sighs, resting her head on the railing.

"Ashleigh? What's wrong?"

"Wha-?" she perks up, "Oh...um. Nothing. Just thinkin'."

I don't pry. She'll tell me when she wants to. Prying often ends up in people not telling you stuff, as I learned from Uncles. And rushing is no good either. If you're rushing, you have no time to actually enjoy the thing.

She starts eventually. "Hey, Grissie. What do you think of George?"

"Huh?" I was not expecting this as a start. "He's nice. A good friend. A bit crazy, but who isn't," I smile. Everyone's a bit crazy in their ways, that's what. i learned from my twelve years of existing, if nothing else.

"Hm," she cracks a smile. "I guess you're right. And I'm glad. I like George, too."

"I don't really think you mean in the same way as I," I correct her.

"W-wha-?!" Ash gets all flustered. "What is that supposed to mean?!" What do you think, genius.

"Um, I never blush around him."

The American looks so flustered right now. It's funny. She reminds me of Vati. He also gets flustered a lot when Papa's around doing what he's doing (cuddling). It's also... what's the word! Dear...endear..endearing?

"His hair is totally so soft!" Huh? Are we still talking about George?

"Meh," is all I can add.

"And did you notice how he furrows his brows when he's mad? Isn't that the cutest?"

Damn, she's deep in it. Then Ashleigh rants about how gentlemanly George is acting, but actually being a dork, and how she likes his tea parties and how cool it is to have a unicorn as your friend. When she begins swooning over how hot he is, I get confused even more than usual around the American. How can a person be hot? Hot... Fire is hot, hot chocolate is hot, the Sun is hot, Australia is hot, but George?

I shrug, but as I turn to leave, Ash calls me back.

"Thanks. For the talk, I mean." I nod. I rarely have 'girly talks', so I enjoyed this one. The last 'girly talk' I had was with Anni, when we each talked about cute romantic stuff our dads do. Imagining Finland carrying Sweden during a 'wife carrying' contest was enough to make my day. Then I imagined dads, but Vati carries Papa a lot, so they have practice.

"Feliciano... can you please get off?"

"Buuut, Luuudwiiig..."

"Listen, I don't mind carrying you somewhere where we're alone, but not in a supermarket!"

"Buuuut, Luuudwiiig!"

Maybe they'd win. They'd definitely have a chance. Ah, I have to remember to sign them up next year! It'll be so much fun!

=u=

"I'm scared," Fred says while watching George draw some magical symbols on the ground.

"Ah, don't be! Trust me! I know what I'm doing," the other assures him. "I've done this before, with br- Britain. It's safe."

"Doubt," Ashleigh, bringing some candles from the Captain's cabin, mutters.

"I'll try not to summon Russia," the magician grins, setting the candles and lighting them.

"You could do that?" I ask, scared. What if it works?

"Sure, I just have to sing the song."

"What song?" Gabi asks.

"The Summoning song," George smiles.

"Woah, Georgie! You're so clever!" Ashleigh says. Both Fred and Gabi glance at each other like 'hmmm, you sure?', but don't say anything. George himself blushes a bit, but keeps lighting the candles. Soon he decides they're enough. Ashleigh turns her phone flashlight off and Fred shuts the opening from the deck.

There's dark now that the candles are the only source of light.

"Step forward and ease your mind!" George's voice invites us to the circle around a candle. Eeek, he sounds scary! And it looks scary, with the candles and darkness all around, George's face being lit up in a spooky way.

Anyway, we sit there, Ashleigh at one George's side and Gabi on the other, Fred sitting next to Ash and I in between my cousins.

"What now?" Fred asks indifferently (did I get that right? I think I did).

"I know!" Ashleigh exclaims, looking at the dark space from left to right. "If there are any spirits here tonight, tell me, does this sound like Shakira? Le ro ro le-"

George facepalms. Fred bursts out laughing.

"Are you done?" George asks after our albino friend takes a few deep breaths. "Great, so, shall we begin?" His voice is so mysterious again, the shadows on his face making his eyes (and eyebrows) stand out even more.

"This is bullshit," Gabe sighs. George's eyes start glowing. Creepy!

"Spirit of the past, come forth and speak!" he says in a thundering voice. All four of the rest of us are paying attention now. Oh god, please spare my life.

"Spirit of the past, come forth and speak!" The slightest wind, more of an exhale, makes the candles' lights flick. Gabriel, even though he wouldn't say it, is also scared now, tightly gripping my hand. But, I mean, I'm hugging him tightly, so...

"Spirit of the past, come forth and speak!" rings through the air for the third time. All the candles' lights go out. I shriek. Ashleigh shrieks too. Gabi hugs me back. Fred stays quiet, too, but joins our hugpile.

"Calm down," George whispers. "And Ashleigh, please stop breathing at my neck."

"Dude," the girl whispers, freaked out. "I'm, like, kinda far away from you."

The words settle, and when they do, I scream again. Fred grips both of us tighter, and Gabe makes a choking sound. Ashleigh scoots closer and presses onto Fred. George is the only one remaining calm, bored almost. 

"Well then. Hi, Spirit."

"Hola." 

Wah?! That was a boy's voice, barely much older than me and Gabi, with a slight crack to it. 

"Who the fuck are you?!" Gabriel! You can't just say that! What if the ghost kills you? I'd miss you! D: 

Nobody can see a thing in this darkness, and the ghost doesen't produce light, like cartoons suggest they do. It's just a voice. 

"My name is Gabriel."


From the diary of Griselda Vargas-BeilschmidtWhere stories live. Discover now