Days Remaining: 27Bank Account: ₹50
The library was supposed to be a sanctuary. It was quiet, it smelled of old paper, and most importantly, people didn't talk to each other.
Elian sat in the furthest corner, hidden behind a stack of Biology textbooks. "This is boring," Lyra complained. She was floating upside down, her face phasing through the bookshelf. "You've been reading the same page for twenty minutes."
"I'm hiding," Elian whispered without moving his lips. "Go away."
"No. I want entertainment." Lyra drifted away from Elian. She scanned the room. Her eyes landed on a guy sitting two tables away. It was Sam, the guy with the messy hair and the band t-shirt. He was intensely focused on writing an essay, tapping his pen rhythmically against his chin.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"He has a nice rhythm," Lyra mused. She floated over to Sam. Elian watched from behind his book, tense. "Lyra, don't."
Lyra waited for Sam to put his pen down to check his phone. Quick as a flash, she slid the pen six inches to the left.
Sam put his phone down. He reached for his pen without looking. His hand grabbed empty air. He frowned, looked down, saw the pen, and picked it up. He went back to writing.
Lyra grinned. She waited a moment. She slid his highlighter off the table. Clatter.
Sam jumped. He looked under the table, retrieved the highlighter, and shook his head.
"Stop it," Elian hissed under his breath. "You're gaslighting him."
"It's funny!" Lyra giggled. She hovered directly behind Sam. She leaned in close to his ear and blew a sharp, freezing breath of air.
Sam slapped his neck. "Ugh, what is with the AC in here?" He looked around, frustrated. He started packing his bag, looking like he was about to give up on studying entirely.
Elian felt a pang of guilt. Sam was just trying to work. Elian sighed. He stood up. He didn't want to talk to Sam, but he couldn't let Lyra drive the poor guy insane.
He walked over to Sam's table just as Lyra was about to knock Sam's water bottle onto his laptop.
"Hey," Elian said, loud enough to startle Sam.
Sam looked up. "Uh, hey?"
Elian grabbed the water bottle just as Lyra shoved it. To Sam, it looked like Elian had weirdly snatched his drink. To Elian, he had just saved a MacBook.
"Your... uh... your table is wobbly," Elian lied, setting the bottle down safely on the floor. "I saw it shaking. Didn't want your water to spill."
Sam blinked. He pushed on the table. It was rock solid. "It seems fine," Sam said slowly.
"Drafts," Elian panicked. "Old building. Lots of... wind. Makes things fall."
Lyra was cackling in the air above them. "Smooth, Elian. Very smooth."
Sam looked at Elian like he was an alien species. But then, he looked at the water bottle on the floor, then at his messy papers. "Well... thanks, I guess? I've been dropping stuff all morning. Maybe the building is haunted."
"Probably," Elian muttered, glaring at the empty space above Sam's head.
Sam laughed. "I'm Sam."
Elian hesitated. He should walk away. He saved the laptop. Job done. But Lyra was making faces behind Sam's head. "I'm Elian," he said, defeatingly.
"Elian? You're the guy who made Jason punch himself, right?"
Elian froze. "News travels fast."
"Legendary," Sam grinned. "You saved me from a boring afternoon. Hey, do you know anything about Biology? This diagram makes no sense."
Elian looked at the diagram. He looked at Lyra, who was gesturing for him to sit. He sighed. "Yeah," Elian said, pulling out a chair. "I know Biology."
The Vending Machine in Lunch time
"I'm thirsty," Lyra announced.
"So? Go and drink something." Elian whispered, walking down the hallway.
"I want to watch you drink. Get a soda."
"I have no money."
"Ugh, fine." Lyra floated ahead. She stopped in front of the vending machine. A girl, Maya from Elian's English class, was standing there, looking frustrated.
Maya fed a crumpled bill into the machine. She pressed B4 for a cola. The coil turned. The bottle moved forward. It teetered on the edge... and stopped. Stuck.
"Oh, come on!" Maya groaned. She hit the glass with her palm. Nothing.
"Ooh, tragedy," Lyra whispered. She floated inside the machine. She put her hand on the stuck bottle.
"Lyra, don't," Elian whispered, stopping ten feet away.
Maya hit the machine again. "Give me my drink!"
Lyra pushed the bottle backward, wedging it tighter. "Nope," Lyra giggled. "Mine now."
Maya looked ready to kick the glass. She was already having a bad day; Elian could see it in her posture.
"Let go of the bottle," Elian hissed at the machine. Maya turned around, startled. "Excuse me?"
Elian panicked. "Uh... talking to... the machine. Percussive maintenance doesn't work."
"Well, unless you have a key, I'm out twenty bucks," Maya snapped, turning back to glare at the soda.
Elian looked at Lyra. She was hugging the soda bottle inside the glass, making a 'nuh-uh' face. Elian walked up to the machine. "It's just... the angle," Elian mumbled.
He placed his hand on the glass, right where Lyra's face was. He glared at her. Let. It. Go.
Lyra stuck her tongue out. Elian narrowed his eyes. I will throw away the traffic cone.
Lyra gasped dramatically. She surrendered, letting go of the bottle. Elian gave the machine a tiny, gentle hip-check. THUNK. The bottle fell.
Maya stared at the dispenser. Then she stared at Elian. "How did you do that?" she asked. "I was hitting it for five minutes."
"I have a touch," Elian lied, sweat forming on his brow. He bent down, retrieved the soda, and handed it to her.
Maya took it. She looked him up and down. "Elian, right? From English?"
"Yeah."
"You're weird," Maya decided. She cracked the soda open. "But thanks. You saved me from punching a machine."
"Don't mention it." Elian turned to leave, grabbing Lyra's invisible ankle to drag her away.
"Hey," Maya called out.
Elian stopped. Please don't talk to me. Please don't talk to me.
"Sam and I are studying at lunch," Maya said. "He says you actually understand the Bio homework. You should sit with us. Unless you have other machines to whisper to?"
Elian looked at Lyra. She was floating next to Maya, doing a victory dance. "Go on," Lyra whispered. "Say yes. Or I'll tie her shoelaces together."
Elian sighed deeply. The weight of being a responsible ghost-sitter was heavy. "Sure," Elian said. "I'll be there."
Lunch
Elian sat at the table. On his left, Sam was drawing a mustache on his textbook. On his right, Maya was highlighting notes with terrifying precision.
Elian sat in the middle, eating his sad sandwich. He wasn't saying much. He was mostly listening to them argue about movies. But he was there.
"So," Sam said, looking at Elian. "You're pretty quiet for a guy who fights vending machines."
"I'm just tired," Elian mumbled.
"Well, wake up," Maya said, sliding a bag of chips toward him. "We need a tie-breaker. Best superhero. Batman or Spider-Man?"
Elian hesitated. He looked at Lyra. She was sitting on the table, invisible, eating imaginary chips. "Spider-Man," Lyra said. "He climbs walls. Like us."
"Spider-Man," Elian said. "He's... relatable. Broke. Tired. Climbs things he shouldn't."
Sam slammed the table. "Yes! Thank you! Maya thinks Batman is cool just because he's rich."
"He has resources!" Maya argued.
As they bickered, Elian took a chip. He looked at the two strangers he had been forced to sit with. They didn't know he was dying. They didn't know he was talking to a ghost. But for the first time in 18 years, the noise around him wasn't overwhelming. It was... okay.
"Good job, Babysitter," Lyra whispered in his ear.
"Shut up," Elian whispered back, smiling into his sandwich.