by K. C. Wells
The wheel rotated at a leisurely pace. Neither of us sat but stood to gaze through the plastic at the fair below. The laughter and screams of the people enjoying the attractions were clearly audible, and the lights were colourful and bright.
“So… did we bring an extra passenger?” Ollie’s eyes sparkled.
I laughed. “Mike was never keen on heights. I don’t imagine that’s changed.” Certainly, there’d been no sign of him since he did his last disappearing act.
Ollie chuckled. “Wow. Alone at last,” he joked.
Except I was glad of the chance to be alone with him.
“It looks so pretty from up here,” Ollie murmured, his forehead touching the plastic wall. He seemed enchanted by the sights below us, his lips parted, his eyes focused on the lights. “So beautiful.”
The park wasn’t the only beautiful thing, in my opinion.
“Ollie,” I said softly. He turned his head to look at me, and I smiled. “This has been a wonderful day. Thank you. I wouldn’t have done any of this without you.”
His face glowed. “My pleasure.”
God, the light in his eyes…
In that moment, all I wanted was to kiss him, only properly this time. I wanted to feel those lips against mine, to feel his heartbeat as I held him close.
Fuck. I wanted him.
His breathing hitched, and I swore he inched a little closer, his lips still parted, his eyes locked on mine.
Do it. Do it.
It took me a second to realize that was my internal voice urging me to take action. I was taken aback by the suddenness of my reaction. Where had it come from?
The car gave a sudden jolt, and we caught our breath, both of us putting a little distance between us.
The bubble was burst, and it was time to go back down to Earth.
We got out of the car, and Ollie sighed. “Delightful as this has been, all good things must come to an end.”
But I didn’t want it to end. “Do you want to grab a bite to eat?” I wanted to cling to these precious moments, to stretch them out further.
Ollie smiled. “Actually, I don’t think I’ll be eating tonight.” He grinned. “Too much chocolate, too many hot doughnuts.”
Then I realized I’d imagined his response to me up there in the air, suspended in our brief bubble of time. He didn’t want me. Why else had he avoided talking about what had happened on the ice?
Give it up. I knew when to accept defeat. “Then let’s call it a night.”
As we headed for the exit, Ollie pointed to the rifle stand. “Are you a good shot?”
“How would I know? I’ve never handled a rifle before.”
“Me neither. So there’s no time like the present to find out.”
I was about to refuse, but then I reconsidered. I was going to win him something, remember?
He tugged me over to the stall where several rifles lay, each one chained to a wooden plinth. On the back wall were white squares on which were printed concentric red circles, a small red dot marking the bullseye.
I handed over my money, and we were each given seven lead pellets as ammunition. The stall keeper showed us how to load the rifles, and then stepped aside.
You can do this. Mike was at my left side.
I rolled my eyes. And where have you been?
Enjoying the fair. Besides, you didn’t need me. You were having fun.
Well, I need you now. I eyed the huge white unicorn with its rainbow mane and sparkly horn, suspended above us. That was the prize I wanted.
Mike followed my gaze. Ooh, someone’s ambitious.
Yeah. I was hoping you might be able to give me a helping hand.
He narrowed his gaze. You’re not asking me to help you cheat, are you?
I blinked. Who me? My heartbeat quickened.
“Damn.” Ollie’s first shot hit just outside the circles. He laughed. “I don’t think I’m very good at this.”
Mike still regarded me with suspicion. What on earth do you want with a giant unicorn anyway?
It’s not for me, I protested. I want to win it for… Ollie.
He stilled. Oh. He glanced across to where Ollie’s second shot had only just made it inside the outermost circle. Mike smirked. Well, he’s certainly not going to win it, is he?
Then you’ll help?
He nodded. Just not the way you think. He pointed to the white square, then at the foresight at the end of the rifle barrel. Line this up with the bullseye. You’re going to use this first shot to gauge how far out it’s been adjusted.
Adjusted? I frowned. Then it is fixed like Ollie says.
Mike smiled warmly at me. You really think anyone who’s a decent shot can walk away with a prize? How sweet. Now do what I say.
I nestled the rifle stock against my shoulder and peered along the barrel, lining up the two sights.
That’s it. Get the bullseye right in the centre, then take a deep breath and hold it while you shoot.
I took aim and fired, disappointed when it didn’t hit the centre, but a few inches to the right and about an inch above it.
“Oh, bad luck.” Ollie sighed. “You’re miles better at it than me though. I can’t get anywhere near the centre.”
Mike nodded in approval, then vaulted over the plinth, his dick bobbing. He stood beside the target.
Right. So now you know where to aim. He pointed to a spot to the left of the bullseye and a little below it. Here. Hit this spot.
Then move your finger, or I’ll hit it.
Mike rolled his eyes. So what? I’m a ghost, remember? Now shoot.
I took in another deep breath and fired.
A hole appeared smack dab in the centre of the bullseye.
“That’s amazing!” Ollie beamed. “Do that again.”
Oh, I think we can manage that. Mike grinned and pointed to that same spot. Here.
I repeated the shot five more times, each time hitting the centre, until the red dot had been obliterated.
Ollie gave up and placed his rifle on the plinth. “Wow. I am in the presence of greatness.” He shook his head. “And you’ve never even fired a rifle before.”
The stall keeper gaped at me. “Seriously? I’ve never seen a first timer do so well.” He pointed to the prizes hanging about our heads. “Take your pick, mate.”
I pointed to the unicorn, and he unhooked it from its attachment and brought it to me. I held it out to Ollie. “There. Now you have something big and fluffy.”
Ollie stared at it, then at me. “You… you’re wonderful.” Then he lurched forward and kissed my cheek, before enfolding the unicorn in his arms. “Now I’ve gotta name them.”
“Them?”
He grinned. “Yeah. It’s a unicorn, after all. Gotta be an enby.”
I had to admit, a non-binary unicorn made sense. “Just make sure they don’t make you buy a ticket for it on the tube.” It was huge.
Ollie nodded gleefully. “It’s twice the size of Tiny Tim.” He laughed when I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s Christmas.”
Then it really was time to go.
We walked in silence through the blue arch, past the security checks where people were being searched before entering the park, leaving the magic behind us. Ollie kept looking at the unicorn as he walked, smiling. The knowledge that I’d made him happy warmed me.
By the time we said goodbye in the station, him heading in one direction, me in another, I’d almost forgotten the kiss I’d wanted so badly.
Almost.
Chapter Twelve
Wednesday. Seven days to Christmas
I put my key in the lock and opened my front door, then gave a start to find Mike standing in the hallway. “What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?”
Mike folded his arms. “We need to talk.”
I dropped my bag onto the hall chair, before struggling out of my coat and hanging it on a hook. “How about you let me get into the flat first.” I brushed past him, still amazed that I could feel him, as solid as the cool
hand he’d laid on my shoulder, the first night he’d appeared.
Are all ghosts like that? Maybe the stories of ethereal, transparent beings were just that—stories.
Mike followed me into the kitchen. “You can feel me because I choose to let you.”
“Just like you chose to let Ollie feel you smack him on the head with your dick? I’m sure he appreciated that.” I still found it disconcerting that he could read my thoughts.
A snort was the only response I got.
“So, why are you here this time?” It had been a long day, and a stressful journey home. The train had broken down, and we’d had to wait for a replacement on a freezing cold platform. By the time it arrived, there were a lot of loud comments about making complaints.
All I wanted was a hot meal, a drink, and to flop down in front of the TV.
A text or a call would make everything better, and I knew it. Apart from sending me a photo of the unicorn, a sign in front of it bearing the words, ‘Hello. My name is Sparkle,’ there’d been no word from Ollie.
It’s my fault. If I hadn’t made such a stupid move…
“Why haven’t you called Ollie?” Mike made the question sound casual, but I knew him too well.
“How do you know I haven’t?” Then I snickered. “Stupid me. You know everything. You’ve probably been hanging around here, just not showing yourself.”
Mike snorted. “This might come as a surprise to you, but I don’t spend every minute of my time watching you. I do have friends I visit now and again.”
I stared at him. “So I’m not the only one who gets ghostly visitations? Just be careful not to pop in too abruptly on your mum. I’m not sure her heart could take the strain.”
“She says hi, by the way.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
“Yeah, and she wants to know if you’re dressing warmly. She says you should wear that jumper she knitted for you.” Mike’s grin told me he was thoroughly enjoying the conversation.
“The one with the ugliest Father Christmas ever?” We’d both laughed about it when I opened the present.
Then Mike burst into laughter. “Only kidding. As if I’d scare her like that.”
“But you’re perfectly okay popping in and out of my life,” I commented.
“That’s different.”
I nodded slowly. “You’re here for a reason. I get it. You’re on a mission.” I opened the freezer and grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a lasagne. I shoved it into the microwave and set the timer.
Mike stood in the doorway. “I know why you haven’t called him. I know what you’re up to.”
I arched my eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware I was up to anything. And in case you haven’t noticed, he hasn’t called me either.”
“So this is a case of ‘he hasn’t called so why should I’?” Mike rolled his eyes. “How mature.”
I’d had enough. “Look, I just want to unwind, okay? I’ve had a long crappy day, and I need to relax.”
“And all I’m saying is you’d relax better if you had a friend here.”
“A specific friend.”
Mike smiled. “Now you’re getting it.” He peered at the tree. “It looks better with the lights on.” And just like that, the tree lights winked on.
I blinked. “Neat trick.”
Mike’s smile was still evident. “Oh, believe me, there’s more where that came from.” He faded from view, just as a bauble fell off the tree.
I sighed and went over to pick it up. It was one of Ollie’s homemade ones, and looking at it, I realized I hadn’t seen it at the time. A colourful rainbow adorned one side, with the words ‘Love Wins’ below it in red.
“How apt,” I murmured. Then I saw there was neat writing on the reverse. It was a quote from John Updike: ‘We are most alive when we’re in love.’
Ain’t that the truth?
I hung the bauble in a prominent spot, and gazed at it. On an impulse, I grabbed my phone and pulled up Ollie’s number. I stared at it for a moment, my heart racing.
Call him. What harm can it do?
My hand trembled slightly as I hit Call. After four rings, he answered. “Hey. How was your day?”
We’re going to indulge in small talk?
“Don’t ask. And that’s partly why I’m calling. I wondered if you were doing anything this evening.”
The silence that followed made my heart sink. “Actually, I’m just getting ready to go out. Some of the office staff are going out for a meal tonight, and I said I’d go too.” Another pause. “Sorry. Another night?”
“Sure,” I replied, more light-heartedly than I felt. “Have a great evening.”
“You too.” Yet another pause. “Was… was there anything else?”
Yes, I wanted to shout. Tell me what was so bad about me giving you a peck on the lips. “No, that’s all. I’ll let you get on.”
“Oh, okay.” He sounded a little disappointed. “Goodnight, then.” He disconnected.
I tossed my phone onto the couch, thankful that Mike hadn’t reappeared. I really didn’t want to see him right then. I was certain he’d be telling me to call Ollie back.
I was going to eat my lasagne, watch something mindless on TV, then go to bed.
And try not to think about Ollie.
Love doesn’t always win, does it? Then I gave myself a hard mental shake. Love? Talk about exaggeration. I’ve known him for barely two weeks. Where does love come into it?
Except that didn’t explain the ache inside me.
Friday. Five days before Christmas.
“Did I hear you say you’re not coming to the party tonight?” Janice asked as she was putting on her coat. “Aw, that’s a shame.”
“Yeah. I double booked myself,” I lied. The truth was, I was in no mood to be sociable. Ollie hadn’t called, not even to tell me how his evening had gone. It was slowly dawning how important he’d become to me.
Apparently, that didn’t go both ways. And deep down, that hurt more than I could let on.
“Oh well. Have a good night, whatever you’re doing.” She gave me a warm smile as she headed out of the office. Other staff waved at me as they exited, wishing me a good evening and telling me what a great party I was going to miss.
The only party I wanted to attend would be a very, very small one, with just two attendees.
I put on my coat and scarf, picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, and followed everyone out of the building. On the street below, the pavements were crowded as people made their way home for the weekend. I tightened my coat around me and headed for the Tube.
The platform was jammed, and I couldn’t get on the first train because of the sheer volume of passengers. When the next train arrived, I squeezed into the tight space and grabbed the first empty seat I could find—until a heavily pregnant woman got on at the next stop, and no one offered her a seat. I tugged on her sleeve as she stood clinging to a pole, her face tired.
“Here,” I said, getting up. “You look like you need this more than I do.”
Her face lit up. “Oh, thank you. My feet are killing me. To say nothing of my back.” She sank down thankfully.
That was kind. Mike was squashed between a very large man who was trying to read the financial pages, and a young man who was nodding away to whatever music poured out of his enormous headphones.
You’d have done the same.
Yes, but no one here did. He cocked his head to one side. How’s Ollie?
My chest tightened. I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken since Wednesday.
Mm-hmm.
I took a deep breath. And what does that mean?
Mike frowned. Uh, it means mm-hmm.
I gave an internal snort. Oh no, you don’t. I know you, remember? If you’ve got something to say, then just come out with it. It’s not like I can stop you, right? I mean, I haven’t been able to thus far. I was doing my best to keep a straight face.
Mike widened his eyes. Ooh, someone’s a little cranky. Want
to tell me about it?
The urge to shrug was enormous, but it would have looked downright weird. What’s to tell? It’s not like you don’t already know. And besides, it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with a ghost in the middle of a jam-packed train during rush hour.
Fine. Mike set his jaw. We’ll talk later. But we will talk about this.
I was about to respond when he winked out of sight.
I wish you wouldn’t do that!
Mike’s chuckle filled my head. What can I say? It’s a ghost thing.
Yeah, sure. More like Mike’s way of ensuring he got the last word.
Another wry chuckle. But of course.
I had to smile. I was never going to win, so I might as well just accept defeat. Fine. We’ll talk when I get off this damn train.
I’ll be on the platform waiting.
I walked briskly, anxious to get out of the cold and into the warm. Mike had no trouble keeping up, but it was disconcerting to see his dick flapping with each stride.
Never mind my cock. I need you to talk to me.
I sighed. I kissed him on the ice. Just a peck. And later, on the Ferris wheel, I really wanted to kiss him, only I didn’t dare. But…
But what?
There was that ache again. He didn’t mention it. Like, not a word. And since then… I think he’s avoiding me.
I see. Mike went quiet for a moment. Let me ask you a question. Which of us made the first move?
Man, talk about conversational whiplash. Excuse me?
When you and I got together, who made the first move?
I rolled my eyes. Me. Tina, remember? Like I could ever forget.
Then let me rephrase the question. Which of us made the first move when you weren’t drunk? Because if memory serves, you fidgeted and stressed until I kissed you. Why?
That was easy. I wasn’t sure if you liked me. The wind picked up suddenly, and I shivered.
And now you’re not sure with Ollie. Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s feeling the same? Maybe that little peck on the lips left him conflicted, and he’s waiting to see what you’re going to do. I shivered as Mike’s hand touched mine. Your relationship with Ollie, such as it is, will need both of you to work on it. But you can’t wait if it’s something—or someone—you want. And you do want him, don’t you?
