I couldn’t believe it.

The things the lady described, flickering lights and cold temperatures, those were just two of the things the ghost had been using to haunt me. Did he do something nice for me? I shook my head, pushing the cart down the hall. That was impossible. I chewed on my lip, trying to make sense of his actions. Maybe his goal all along was to get that woman to complain about me. He was trying to get me fired. That had to be it.

The rest of the day passed without a single interruption. It was really weird. When I went to dinner after my work was done, I was more nervous than ever. Something terrible was about to happen, I just knew it. As I got my food and sat down, my eyes travelled the room restlessly, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Also, I was kind of looking around to see if the jester guy was here. I knew he wouldn’t be performing tonight, since I’d never seen the same entertainment twice in a row, but I was kind of hoping that he might be here for dinner. After a moment it became clear that he wasn’t among the tables. I felt a thread of relief and disappointment at that. I mean, if he was here it’s not like I’d actually talk to him, I would just watch him creepily from a distance. That was how most of my romances went.

When I was done eating, I glanced over at the bar on the far end of the great hall. I’d noticed Brittney working there some nights, and I could even see her now, sitting on one of the bar stools, her curly hair pushed back by a head scarf. It looked like she was on break. Before I could think it through completely, an impulse filled my mind. It was crazy, but I think I was actually about to go and initiate a conversation. It wasn’t that I wanted to talk to Brittney—heaven knew that I never wanted to talk to anyone—but I did want information.

Moving through the tables, I went and sat down next to her. She looked up and smiled.

“Hey Jess!” she said brightly. “How’s it going? I hope you’re feeling better.”

I stared at her for a moment, unsure of what she was talking about. Then I remembered what I’d told her when she found me sleeping in the bathroom. “Oh yeah!” I said quickly, “I’m feeling way better, thanks.” There was a pause. “How’s work going for you?” I asked.

“It’s been good,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I just love being called wench and barmaid all night long.”

I laughed. I didn’t know how to bring this up subtly, so I decided to abandon subtlety altogether. “I was wondering if you could answer a question for me,” I began, feeling a little nervous now. “Last night I noticed that there was a jester performing, and I wondered if you knew him.”

She gave me a scrutinizing glance before answering. “I do,” she said. “His name is Allan. We’re friends, but he’s friends with pretty much everybody, so that’s not saying much.” She smiled. “Do you think he’s cute?” she asked slyly.

I tried to look as indifferent as possible. “No,” I said, my mind racing to come up with something, “I was just curious about the white hair thing. Does he bleach it and paint his face white for the act? I don’t really get it, and I was wondering if you knew.” Brittney had to see through my excuse. It was totally flimsy. Yes, I thought he was cute, but I would probably die before those words left my mouth.

Brittney laughed and nodded. “I do know actually. He doesn’t paint his face or anything; he really is that pale. It’s super weird, but he rocks it.”

My eyebrows rose. “Are you serious?” I asked. “Is he an albino or something?”

She grinned at me again. “You should just ask him yourself.”

I leaned back and shook my head. “That would be a very bad idea.”

“I’m serious,” she said as she elbowed my shoulder. “He’s the nicest guy in the world. I’ve known him for the couple of summers I’ve worked here and I’ll bet that if you asked him out on a date he would totally say yes.”

I smiled back at her, but it felt forced. If a guy was friends with someone as pretty as Brittney, why would he ever go on a date with weird, anti-social me? She said he was a nice guy, but I didn’t want to go on a date with someone who was just doing it to be nice. Before I could think of any response, Brittney stood up.

“Well, my break’s almost over,” she said as she stretched. “Seriously though, you should just talk to him. You guys might actually have a lot in common.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said with a nervous laugh. What could he and I possibly have in common? He was the center of attention and I was a creepy goth girl hiding in the shadows with a ghost. Why did I always have to be drawn to guys that would never be into me?

Even though Brittney had left, I stayed at the bar for a little while, staring out over the crowd of dining guests. Without meaning to, I again searched for the white hair of the jester among the crowd of people. I knew he wouldn’t be here, but it didn’t stop me from looking. While I looked, I could feel someone sit down on the bar stool beside me, but I was too absorbed in studying the crowd to see who it was.

“Hey there.”

My heart stopped as I looked up. In my attempts to spot the jester, had he come and sat down beside me? My eyes rose to meet the gaze of the man next to me and my hopes fizzled away. This guy was kind of old and had a weird goatee thing going on.

He smiled at me. “Hey,” he said again, “watssyur name?” His words were slurred together and when I saw the tankard of beer he held in one hand, I knew why.

“I’m, um,” I edged away from him, “I’m Jess.” Was this guy hitting on me? I didn’t know how to tell. It had never happened before.

“Thatsscool,” he slurred. “So, I saw you talkin’ to the barmaid a minute ago. Whatsser name?”

My expression soured. “You mean Brittney?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin. “Are you like, friends with her?”

I rolled my eyes. I should have seen this one coming a mile away. “Why do you want to know?” I asked with a sigh.

He hiccupped. His face was really red. “She’sso—she’s super hot. Do you think you could talk to her for me? I’m a really, really nice guy. You, you should tell her to talk to me.”

“You know,” I said, narrowing my eyes, “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that I don’t think she’d be interested. But I mean, do your thing man, just don’t ask me to do it for you.”

Raising the tankard to his lips, he took a long drink. When he set it back down, his face got all crumpled up and his eyes got shiny and wet. “You’re right,” he said with another hiccup. “A girl like that would never be into me.”

I was floored. Did I honestly just make a grown, albeit drunk, man cry? I wanted to be harsh, but not that harsh.

“I probably couldn’t even get a girl like you,” he continued to blubber, “and you’re not even that pretty. You’re just short and your ears are too big.”

Any pity I’d just felt for him was snuffed out. “Well,” I breathed, “that is my cue to go.” I stood up from the barstool.

“No, wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing my arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

My anger spiked. “How about you let go of me there, you jerk?” I said.

He blinked in surprise. “What did you just call me?”

“I called you a jerk. Now let go of my arm!”

He opened his mouth to respond, but he never got the words out. At that moment, the ghost appeared right next to him. My heart stopped in alarm, but the drunk guy didn’t seem to notice anything. With wide eyes, I watched as the ghost vanished right into the guy.

I slapped my free hand over my mouth to keep back a yell of surprise. At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then the man’s eyes bulged as a spasm shot through his body. Letting go of my arm, he jerkily reached out and grasped his tankard of beer. It didn’t look like his movements were voluntary. Lifting the tankard, he held it up for a moment, and then dumped the contents down the front of his tunic. I almost yelled in shock.

The ghost suddenly appeared again, moving away from the man. His eyes met mine and he smiled. “I suggest you run,” he said, his voice echoing in my mind.

I nodded numbly in reply, and with one last glance at the drunken man, I turned and dashed out of the great hall. The guy was still just sitting there, staring down at himself in confusion. I didn’t stop running until I reached my room. Once there, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, a shocked laugh escaping me as I tried to catch my breath.

“That was awesome!” I said as I took another deep breath. I couldn’t see the ghost right now, but I was fairly certain he could hear me. “And totally disturbing. I had no idea you could possess people like that!”

The ghost materialized in front of me, a smug grin still on his bearded face. “How else would I have returned my sword to your room?” he asked, his Scottish accent thick.

I almost choked. “You possessed someone to do that?” I cried. With a heavy breath, I leaned against the wall. “That’s—that’s so messed up.”

The ghost just shrugged. “Choices are rather limited when you’re dead,” he said frankly.

I shook my head. “So what now?” I asked. “Are you still haunting me, or are you—” I faltered before I finished my sentence. It just seemed too crazy. “Or are you helping me now?”

The ghost looked thoughtful for a moment, his image flickering in and out. “I find haunting you rather dull,” he answered. A devilish smile spread across his lips. “There are many here far more deserving of righteous judgment.”

I breathed out slowly, hardly letting myself believe it. This was too good to be true. I might cry. “You mean I can sleep again?” I whispered. I was dead serious, I could feel tears coming. Sleep didn’t seem like that big of deal before I came here, but now I couldn’t think of anything I loved more.

“For now,” the ghost said, “but haunting others may grow to be dull as well.”

I stared at him, my eyes wide. I had never had so many mixed feelings about anyone ever before. One moment I wanted to thank him, and the next, I wished he was alive so I could punch him in the face.

“You’re a monster,” I said bluntly, “but as long as you’re being a monster to someone else, I honestly don’t care.” A sudden thought occurred to me and I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “Unless of course, this is all a big trick.”

The ghost seemed surprised. “What would I gain by tricking you now?”

“I don’t know,” I said after I studied him for a moment, “but I don’t trust you. Maybe you’re just trying to gain my trust so that you can possess someone and then make that person knife me in the back or something. There’s no way that being haunted by a ghost ends up this anticlimactic.”

“My gracious,” the ghost said, sounding offended. He disappeared, then reappeared a moment later, sitting at the foot of my bed. “What sort of spirit do you think I am?”

I stared at him like he’d lost his mind. “The evil kind,” I said, “that torture poor innocent girls who just want to raise money for college.”

“Innocent?” the ghost cried. He reeled back in laughter, floating in midair as his jubilant cries filled my head. “You impertinent scold! You were the one to break my sword!”

My hands curled into fists. “That was an accident!” I yelled, “And hardly deserving of this crapfest you’ve put me through!”

His laughter died down and he gave me a shrewd look. “I do not understand all of your words, but I take your meaning. You have been dealt a just reward, and so I state again, there are others here far more deserving of righteous judgment.”

“And then what?” I asked. “Am I supposed to just go about my business, always looking over my shoulder and dreading the day you get bored and start haunting me again?”

He looked thoughtful, and then shrugged. “Just so.”

I frowned. Not even the beauty of his Scottish accent could make that sound appealing. “How about I propose a better idea,” I said. Before he could say anything, I stepped forward. “What if I helped you? What if I became your partner in crime?”

He folded his arms over his broad chest. “What is your meaning?”

Without bidding, a smile twitched at the corner of my mouth. “What if I helped you with scaring people? Trust me, being on the receiving end of a haunting sucks, but I bet it’s not easy for you either! You just said that you had to possess people to return the sword to my room! I don’t know much about possession, but I’m guessing it’s kind of difficult.”

The ghost tilted his bearded head and gave a grudging nod.

“See!” I said excitedly, “With me, you wouldn’t have to worry about that sort of thing! I could do all the stuff that you need a tangible body for, and you could do all the spooky, light flickering stuff.”

The ghost gave me a long, flat look. “I feel uneasy about this,” he said at last.

“It’ll be great,” I continued. So many ideas were popping into my head that I couldn’t get them out fast enough. “I could help with other stuff too! I could start spreading a couple of stories to the other employees here. I could tell them about the creepy stuff that’s been happening to me, and then as you start haunting them, they’ll open up about the creepy stuff that they’ve been going through. Before you know it, you’ll have every employee here peeing their pants every time the lights go out. Their own imaginations will do half your work for you!”

The ghost still looked skeptical. “It’s an intriguing idea,” he said slowly. Then he shrugged. “And I haven’t a thing to lose, really. But I’ll have you know that should any part of this plan go awry, you’ll be the one to pay.” His expression darkened. “My retribution will be swift and severe! I will—”

“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted, “you’ll unleash all of your terrible, ghosty powers on me. I get it. Do we have a deal? You’ll stop haunting me if I help you haunt everybody else?”

He looked miffed that I stole his thunder. “Aye, that’ll be so,” he said at last.

Without thinking, I stuck out my hand and waited for him to shake it. He gave me a glare in response.

“Oh, right,” I said, pulling my hand back, “handshakes are a no. Lack of body and all that jazz.”

This was awkward.

“My name’s Jessica, by the way,” I said in a rush to change the subject. “I don’t know if you caught that while you were driving me crazy.”

He stood up straight and tall, his arms still crossed over his chest. “I am called Gréagóir,” he said.

His accent confused me. “Gri-gor?” I asked. I could tell that I was totally butchering the pronunciation.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Gréagóir,” he said again.

“Gray-gir?” I butchered it again, but this time it was kind of on purpose.

He grew visibly frustrated. Not gonna lie, it made me feel pretty good. “Gréagóir!” he cried.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to irritate the ghost I’d just struck an alliance with, but I couldn’t help it. This was the sweet taste of revenge. “Gr—” I furrowed my eyebrows as I feigned confusion. “Grow-gar?” I shook my head. “You know, I just don’t think I’m going to get this. How about I call you Greg?”

If looks could kill, I’d be a ghost too. “You will not call me Greg,” he growled.

I nodded. “Greg totally works for me. It’s definitely going to stick.” I smiled wide. “Well, it’s been super good to officially meet you Greg. I’m really glad that you’re no longer trying to ruin my life and I’m looking forward to working with you.” I walked around him and grabbed my bag of toiletries. “Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to get ready for bed.”

I left the room without another glance and when I returned a few minutes later, the ghost was gone. At least, as far as I could tell, he was gone. It seemed that he could appear and disappear whenever he wanted and so maybe he was still around and I just couldn’t see him. That thought made me uncomfortable.

As I crossed the room to my bed, I noticed the light bulb sitting on my nightstand. I could probably screw it back in now that we had this truce thing going on, but after I’d just annoyed him, I was sure he’d like to retaliate. I’d have to put it back tomorrow night. Lying down in bed, I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled the blanket up under my chin.

“Goodnight Greg,” I said to the dark room.

There was silence for a long moment, and then I heard his sullen voice in my head. “My name is Gréagóir.”

An impossible smile stretched across my lips. It seemed that I ended up with a roommate after all.