The next morning, I got up a little early to take care of some personal grooming. Miguel had breakfast ready for me, and because of that, he felt the need to complain about how few ingredients I had. I guess I'll have to buy groceries after school.
"Did you study to make up for skipping class?" he inquired.
"No," I answered, my head down.
"What? Why not?" I didn't answer."You don't learn as well from instruction as you do reading it yourself… I wish you'd take this more seriously."
I laughed. "It's nice that someone is worried about my grades."
Miguel smirked. "Most of them are fine… but you're pretty absent-minded. Someone's gotta look after you."
I smiled but stayed quiet to avoid attracting attention.
"Hey, Lemon… can we talk?" It was Jack, waiting for me at the front gate.
I froze. The air, which had been a sweltering 96 degrees just moments ago, plummeted to 60. Miguel's face, so gentle moments earlier, now looked furious.
"I'd rather not," I said, brushing past Jack. He reached out and gently held my hand, but I snatched it away and walked inside.
"Who was that?" Miguel asked, staring at the door as I pressed my face against the wall.
"My ex…" I murmured, cheeks hot with shame.
"I… don't understand…" he said slowly.
"We broke up… three years ago."
"Then why the hell does he think he can touch you?"
Miguel's voice was sharp—too sharp. I turned, startled. He was hovering above the crowd, arms tense, face pale with fury.
Our eyes met. A beat passed.
He smiled, much too softly. "You should hurry. Mr. Aberman will lock you out." That fake calm chilled me more than his anger.
Miguel stretched out on the floor beside me. There was a test today, so he didn't speak. I kind of wished he would—the exam was ridiculously difficult. After class, he draped his arms over my shoulders and rested his head on mine as we walked.
"I'm bored," he complained.
"Then leave," I said through chattering teeth.
"Wow, you're so cold," he chuckled.
I wondered if he knew how conflicted I felt. How his nearness made my chest tighten.
"I'm actually getting very cold," I whispered.
He moved away, and the boiling heat in my chest finally started to cool.
"I'm sorry." He didn't sound like he meant it. But we were both saying things we didn't mean, so I let it go.
"So how do you feel about your ex?"
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. I coughed, caught off guard. "Why do you ask?" I said, popping in my Bluetooth earbuds to look less suspicious.
"Why are you avoiding the question?" he countered, stepping in front of me and halting my walk to History.
"I'm not…"
I paused, thinking carefully. "Um… I just don't know."
"Do you hate him?" Miguel's gaze cut through me. "Or do you still love him?"
"N-Neither…" I replied nervously.
"Explain," Miguel demanded. "You're skipping History today; I'll help you study later."
I gasped, beginning to protest, but the words didn't come. Miguel grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the library, then into a vacant study room. He locked the door behind us.
"I don't think this will take a full hour," I muttered, fidgeting.
"If we have time left, we'll talk about other things." He sat casually on the table. "So… tell me."
"W-Well… when he cheated on me, I thought I hated him. But then I met you… and I realized I don't have the right to hate anyone. No one does. I still don't like him and I don't want to be near him, but I can't fully hate him."
Miguel didn't seem satisfied.
"If he wanted to get back together, what would you do?"
"He already did," I confessed. "I turned him down."
Miguel's face darkened.
"When? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I… forgot. I'm sorry."
He scoffed. But it was true. I'd brushed Jack's proposal off so easily that I hadn't thought about it again.
"Why did it slip your mind?"
I opened my mouth, ready to say it didn't matter—but that wasn't the full truth.
"There were more important things at the time… so I forgot," I said. Miguel sighed and took a step back. Then he opened his arms.
"Come here. Let's talk about something else."
My heart fluttered. Even I could tell he wanted a hug. Cautiously, I stepped forward. He pulled me into his lap and held me close. My body was torn in two directions—frozen where his skin touched mine, burning everywhere else. My pulse pounded so loudly I thought he might hear it.
"How… did you and the girl you're looking for meet?" I asked. It hurt to ask.
"She didn't notice me. I was used to being seen—because of my looks, my status—but she ignored me completely. That's what made me curious. She was honest. Stubborn. Beautiful. But… there were complications. So I never confessed. Then one day, something happened. I got worried. I warned her. She yelled at me. Called me a liar. That was the only time we ever spoke."
My heart ached. I cuddled closer, hoping he didn't notice. But deep down, I wanted to comfort him.
"She must've been stupid not to realize you were just worried for her."
"Yeah, she is stupid," he muttered. "But she's still the girl I love."
He gently lifted me from his lap and set me on my feet. That gap between us felt like a chasm. Does he only pull me close so I'll feel the pain of the distance even more?
He's dead. And it's my fault. So maybe my feelings aren't justified. I'm the stupid one—for falling for a ghost.
"I'm sorry if I offended you." My eyes began to sting. I didn't even know why I wanted to cry.
"You're amazing. No wonder he wants you back," Miguel murmured.
I didn't know how to respond.
"What's your favorite dish?" he asked suddenly.
"…Probably grilled salmon. Is that weird?"
He smiled.
"What do you like to eat with it?"
"…Spring lettuce salad. With apple balsamic or Italian vinaigrette… red onion slices and crushed red pepper."
He seemed to ponder that for a moment.
"Lemon…"
"Y-Yes?"
"…Your ex was an idiot for cheating on you."
All the topic changes made my head spin.
"Can you please stop…?" I whispered. "You're making me misunderstand. So… please stop."
"Alright… my bad."
We sat in silence until it was time for lunch—assuming I wanted to eat before Acting class. Miguel hovered behind me. The air felt heavy.
He's an expert at being quiet. He might've made a better mime than chef—though he's a fantastic cook.
Later, I sat at my desk, thinking. I needed to find that girl—for my sanity. But he never gave hints. He only looked at me… never anyone else. He said he spoke to her, even if only once. Miguel stands out so much—I don't think a girl could forget meeting him.
Maybe if I had a picture of him… and checked the school website…
"What are you thinking about?" Miguel asked, his chin suddenly on my shoulder.
"I'm thinking about what I should be doing."
His lips were near my cheek. My breath caught in my throat. Panic flared.
I lurched away and nearly fell Miguel caught me by the waist, laughing.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
Before I could reply, the room filled with light. The white-haired man from before appeared—Tzadqiel. He smiled, joy sparkling in his golden eyes.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked, covering his mouth and chuckling.
"Shut up!" Miguel shouted, flustered. His arms dropped from around me. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to see how you're doing. Seems like you're doing very well," Tzadqiel laughed again.
"What the hell is so funny?!"
"Nothing… It's just nice to see you happy. I've never seen it before."
Miguel's cheeks reddened slightly. He glanced at me, and I quickly looked away.
"Please don't talk about that right now…" He didn't deny it. Is he really happier now than he was in Heaven? "I'm just taking your advice," Miguel mumbled.
"I'm glad to hear that. You seem happier too, Miss Lemiette."
I blinked. "Th-Thank you," I said, bowing slightly.
"Don't talk to her," Miguel snapped.
"Why not?" Tzadqiel teased. "Are you maybe…"
"Shut your stupid fucking mouth!"
Tzadqiel was visibly amused. "If you still want to talk, we can go somewhere else," Miguel grumbled.
"What? Anything I have to say, I can say in front of our princess."
I blushed. Miguel moved in front of me.
"I know humans aren't outside your tastes. Watch what you say."
"You think I'd fall that far from grace? You don't know me at all." Tzadqiel wiped away a fake tear. "Actually, I do need to speak with her. Is that okay?"
"Not at all."
"When have I ever broken your trust?" Tzadqiel pouted.
Miguel didn't answer.
"I promise your friend will be fine."
"Fine. Do what you want." Miguel vanished.
Now alone with Tzadqiel, I grew nervous.
"How are you?" he asked warmly.
"I'm fine," I mumbled, eyes on the floor.
"What do you think of my little boy?"
It took a moment to realize he meant Miguel.
"Oh… I… I'm grateful to have him. But because of that, I have more regrets. I wish he could have lived… been happy… He pulled me out of the darkest place, but I don't think I deserve it."
"You're right. You don't," Tzadqiel said, smiling gently. "But not many people deserve the good in their lives. Don't feel guilty for enjoying it."
His words made tears spill from my eyes. He wiped them away.
"No tears. I hate crying."
I tried to stop, for his sake.
"Have you given up on killing yourself?"
I gasped. How did he know?
"H-How…?"
"You were going to wait until college ended. End it quietly, with no drama."
I bit my lip, fidgeting. "Can you read my mind?"
"Something like that. But I want to know—have those plans changed?"
I stood silently. Then, deep breath.
"I'm not sure. I still want to… sometimes. But after being with Miguel, I feel like I should value life more. So I'm confused."
"That's fine," he said.
The room filled with light again. This time, I was alone.
…I wonder when Miguel will be back.