"You play nineties jams for your ghost?" Maliyah cackled, as she and Kiara lounged across Alexander's burgundy couch. The faint hum of a Third Eye Blind song filled the apartment.
"I put on Friends for him while I'm at work," Alexander said, twirling the small pinecone pendant around his neck until the chain bit lightly against his skin. The apartment smelled faintly of old carpet and cinnamon incense, a scent he swore helped with the haunting.
"Why Friends?" Kiara asked, scrunching her nose as she reached for the bowl of raisins in she and Maliyah's lap.
"It was one of the most popular shows of the nineties," he replied, shrugging.
"So you think keeping him entertained will win you points with the dead?"
"It helps me sleep at night," Alexander said, pacing the wooden floors.
"You're ridiculous," Kiara muttered, shaking her head though her lips curved into a reluctant smile.
"It's a valid coping mechanism," Maliyah countered, adjusting the blue bandana on her head.
"Thank you," Alexander said with mock solemnity, shooting her a grateful glance.
"It's just, what reason would this ghost even have to hurt you?" Maliyah asked, leaning forward a little, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
"I don't know his state of mind," Alexander said quietly. "He might have trust issues, given that he was beaten to death by his best friend."
Or his lover, though he kept that part to himself. He wasn't about to out someone, ghost or not. Besides, who was to say that those rumors were even true?
"Ouija board?" Kiara asked, eyes lighting with mischief.
"No," Alexander and Maliyah said in unison, exchanging a knowing look.
"You two are no fun," Kiara grumbled, tossing a raisin at Alexander.
"Why would we want to disturb his spirit by summoning him?" Alexander asked, more serious now. "If he's finally at peace, the last thing I want to do is drag him back."
"It could help you understand his state of mind," Kiara said with a nonchalant shrug.
Before Alexander could answer, a cold rush of air swept across his shoulder. His skin prickled, breath catching as he stiffened in place. The others didn't seem to notice, still bickering softly over the ethics of spirit communication.
He swallowed hard, forcing a shaky laugh. "No," he said again, quieter this time. "I'm good without answers."
The Ouija board sat squarely in the middle of Alexander's bedroom floor the following night, looking almost theatrical in the flickering candlelight. Kiara had insisted on doing this, and not even Maliyah's well-reasoned protests could talk her out of it. Alexander, against his better judgment, went along, mostly because Kiara had already brought the blue and purple candles and made a whole production of arranging them in a perfect circle. Their soft, colored light spilled over the floorboards.
The board was a cheap, store-bought thing with wood made to look ancient, the alphabet and numbers curling across the surface in fake Gothic script. The words yes, no, and goodbye stood out in stark black print. The planchette, a small, tear-shaped pointer with a cloudy glass window, rested at its center, waiting.
"Dagnabbit," Alexander muttered under his breath as he sat cross-legged, his long fingers tapping against his knee. He wasn't sure why he was nervous. He'd never believed in ghosts or portals or any of that nonsense. But the air tonight felt heavier, like the room itself was holding its breath. Worse still, that same cold sensation from before crept over his hands again, icy and deliberate, like the ghost of a touch.
It's just somatic. I'm imagining things.
"Okay," Kiara said, rubbing her hand against Maliyah's with mock gravity. "If we summon anything, I'm calling dibs on the TikTok rights."
Maliyah rolled her eyes. "Girl, the only thing we're summoning is embarrassment."
They laughed, the sound easing the tension a bit. The three of them placed their fingers on the planchette. Kiara started the chant, a jumbled collection of phrases she'd found online. Half Latin, half poetic jargon. None of them knew what they were doing, but that was part of the fun.
For a while, nothing happened. The candles flickered. The old ceiling fan rattled faintly above them. No spirits, no signs, no gusts of wind.
Then, out of nowhere, Kiara began to hum. A strange tune, low and melodic. It wasn't anything Alexander recognized. It didn't even sound like a proper melody.
Maliyah joined in, snapping softly to the beat. Alexander couldn't resist adding his own twist. He broke into the Friends theme song, smirking. He wondered if Roscoe would've found that funny.
"Stop messing around," Maliyah laughed, reaching across to give him a playful whack on the shoulder.
"Roscoe," Kiara called dramatically, "if you want to talk to us, go ahead. We're not gonna judge."
They pressed their fingertips back to the planchette. It sat still. The only sound was the faint hum of the refrigerator down the hall, those damned crickets outside, and the fan.
"Come on, man," Alexander teased. "Don't be shy."
And then—movement.
The planchette jerked slightly, then began to glide across the board, dragging their hands with it.
"D!" Kiara shouted, eyes wide.
"D for 'don't bother you'?" Alexander quipped, trying to disguise the hitch in his voice.
"I!" Kiara said next, following the pointer's path.
"What's next, Roscoe?" Maliyah called, leaning forward.
"C!"
Alexander's brows furrowed. The cold was back, seeping into his skin, gnawing at the bones of his fingers.
"K."
Then silence. The planchette stopped dead center.
Alexander forced a laugh, scanning the others. "Was that an insult or a request?"
Neither girl answered right away. They just stared at the board, the letters gleaming faintly in the candlelight before bursting into another round of laughter.
"Alexander! Be serious!" They chided in unison.
"It was one of you!" Alexander insisted with a chuckle of his own.
Surely one of them had pushed it. They had to have.
Still, as the seconds stretched, a tight unease curled in Alexander's gut. The air felt colder now, the shadows thicker.
What if they hadn't?