Four humans and a ghost walked into Mazie's living room.

I couldn't come up with a punchline to that, though I had a feeling punches might become part of the set-up soon enough.

We stood for a moment until the awkward silence seemed worse than me blurting out something ill advised. "Sit down, everyone. Make yourselves at home. I'll make popcorn. Hey, who want to play a board game? How about Clue. Professor Plum in the conservatory with the lead pipe. I'm pretty good at figuring out who the murderer is." What a roll I was on. Why stop now? "Or maybe just who the guy is that accidentally shot his brother when he was aiming for someone else is."

"Mazie!" Blake and Jack's twin speak came at me in stereo. Ethan and Zeke gave each other dark looks. Zeke nodded at him, which I translated to mean, "she's about to go sleep with the fishes."

"I'm sure they know by now that I know. All I did was confirm it." I hissed at Blake and Jack. "Ethan, Zeke, how'd you know Blake was here?"

No one had taken a seat. Ethan and Zeke stood near the entryway, blocking out nearest exit.

"We just grabbed a slice." Ethan said, as though that would answer my question, which oddly enough, it did. Kayla must have been talking about these clowns in her last text.

"You should have listened to me." Ethan aimed his finger at my face. "I warned you Blake was dangerous. He attacked Zeke."

"And you tried to shoot me!" Blake leapt forward. I stepped in front of him, my arms out to separate them as much as possible. This was going to be an ugly repeat of the fall dance, only now, there were no parents or teachers or chaperones to break them apart, there was only me.

"There will be no violence in my house, do you hear me?" I turn my head from side to side, making eye contact with all three of them. Jack hovered near, mumbling about his knife, which in his panicked state, he'd been unable to grab. "No knives!"

"Who said anything about a knife?" Zeke asked. "And what is up with this place? I don't like it. You could stick a sign outside the last week of October and charge admission. It'd scare the shit out of kids."

"Sorry if our color palette isn't military fatigue chic." I lowered my hands. "All of you, chill, or remove yourselves from my house. My parents will be home anytime." That was a lie. They wouldn't be back until after Mazzeria closed late tonight.

"Kayla's coming over too," I said.

Ethan crossed his arms. "I don't want her here for this."

"Here for what?" Blake inched forward again.

"We need to have a conversation," Ethan said. "Be very careful about what you say and do, especially now that you've involved your girlfriend. Mazie, see what I mean about him being dangerous. He's dying to beat me unconscious."

"I'm not his girlfriend." I swallowed as a flash of metal caught the light. "And I'm guessing the dangerous one would be the guy holding the gun."

Ethan moved to the side. "Zeke, really? I told you not to bring that here."

"You don't get to tell me shit, Ethan." He swung the gun between Blake and me. My breathing became quick and shallow. I'd never seen a gun this close-up before. "You two need to listen to us, and this gun is going to make sure that you do."

"Zeke," Blake stepped in front of me. "This isn't cool. Wasn't it enough that you accidentally got shot? You almost died, and for what? You don't have to threaten us, especially Mazie. She didn't do anything."

Jack floated behind me, buzzing like a bee. He leaned in. "First opportunity you get, you run. Get out of here."

I nodded, but I didn't see how I'd get more than three feet before a bullet found its way into my back.

My mind was going to be stuck on this horrifying loop for the rest of my life, which would probably end a lot sooner than I wanted it too. I needed a distraction. "Jack," I whispered. "Go get the knife."

"I already tried but I couldn't touch it. There's too much going on. I can't concentrate."

"Try again!"

"Who the fuck are you talking to?" Zeke pointed the gun right between my eyes. "You a psycho too? That's your thing, isn't it, Blake... hot, crazy chicks."

"Put the gun down, Zeke." Blake's face grew tomato red. He looked like he might self-combust at any second. Before that could happen, Jack gasped. I turned in time to see him lift the butcher knife from the counter.

"Oh my god!" I cried, hoping I sounded as hysterical as I felt. "That knife is floating all by itself!"

All three boys turned towards where I pointed. This was my one chance and I was taking it.

As Jack waved his knife through the air, making his way from the kitchen to the living room, I ducked around Blake and did what I never imagined I'd have the guts to do.

My hands wrapped around Zeke's gun. I kneed him in the crotch and shoved the gun upwards, hoping to avoid getting shot point blank. The double surprise of a floating knife and sore groin forced him to loosen his hold. I pull the gun from him, stepped back, adjusting it so I was gripping it in both hands. Swinging around, I yelped as I came eye to eye with a butcher knife held by my ghostly sidekick. Directly behind him stood Blake, who stared at me , mouth gaped wide in horror.

Time stilled.

"Mazie, this is the moment," Jack said, his voice soft but steady. His knife clattered to the ground as he began to buzz.

I wanted to lower the gun, but my arms seemed locked in place. "Jack, don't you leave now. Please don't."

Time sped; chaos ensued. Ethan, recovered from the shock of a levitating knife, dove for said knife, only to be tackled by Blake. Zeke, not quite recovered from my badassery, managed to stand up straight. I barely registered them. All I could see was Jack, flickering in and out like a candle nearly out of wax.

"Mazie," his voice became gravely. "If it's between me and you, save yourself and let me die."

"What? No! No one has to die!"

The floor shook as Blake threw Ethan against it. Turning around, Blake struggled upwards, pushing himself at me like a linebacker.

I still held the gun. Could I use it if I needed to?

"Mazie, look out!" Ignoring the weapon, Blake lunged, but not in time to save me from being tackled from behind.

I screamed as Zeke jumped on my back. Blake tried to pull him off me, but Zeke was strong, wrestling for the gun even as Blake pounded on him. Zeke clawed at my hands until I was afraid I'd accidentally press the trigger and shoot one of us. My hold gave way and Zeke claimed his prize, pushing me away so he could refocus his efforts on Blake.

I envisioned how this was going to go: Zeke would shoot Blake and I'd witness his death and the birth of Jack. But most likely, I'd also witness my own death when Zeke decided to take out the witness to his dastardly deed. I was too much of a liability to leave standing.

Jack buzzed in the corner. He was beyond words by now, but his eyes did all the speaking they needed to. This was why he'd come to me.

You have one job to do, Mazie, so do it.

Zeke and Blake were a boy tornado, all swirling limbs and glint of steal caught up in the storm. Everything in me told me to run. If I did, I'd save myself. Blake would die and Jack would exist, travel back in time, teach me to dance, fall in love with me.

And live forever as a ghost trapped in a time loop...

I ran, but not away. I entered the fray, a place I never wanted to be, and I hit Zeke as hard as I could. I was small compared to him, but he had two opponents. Plus, he hadn't expected me to put up a fight. The gun went flying. He pushed Blake against the wall, then turned to seek his revenge for the headache he was about to endure.

If you've never had someone wrap their hands around your throat, intent on squeezing you until you passed out and died, I don't recommend it.

"This wasn't what I wanted," he told me as I gasped for air. "I'm the victim. I almost died, and it's Blake's fault."

Why did he have to tell me this now? I didn't want the sound of his whining to be the last thing I ever heard.

Just as my vision grew dark, the pressure eased, and Zeke yelped. A line of blood formed on his wrist. Jack stood with an unsteady hand wrapped around a bloody knife.

No, not Jack. Blake.

Blake with the knife in Mazie's living room.

Injured but not out of commission, Zeke threw me to the ground, which would have been a sweet release, if my head hadn't hit the edge of the coffee table on the way down.

I lost time. It might have been five, ten, thirty seconds or a million years. I spent that unknowable period as a captive of darkness.

#

Cool air. A draft. Someone had opened all the windows, which was stupid because it was freezing out. I shivered. Or, that's all I meant to do. Instead, my whole body convulsed.

The voices came next.

"Hold her."

"Are you calling them?"

"Don't worry, it will be okay. It's going to be okay. It's okay."

I realized with the slowness of a tortoise crossing the finish line that those final words were said to me, over and over like one of my mind loops, as I lay on the floor sobbing.

My vision returned, and with it, a tiny bit of sense.

The door was opened because Kayla had arrived. She stood in the entryway, moonlight shining on her as she stared out at my front yard. She held a phone to her ear speaking in hushed tones to someone on the other end of the line.

"Who's she talking to?" These words seemed clear in my brain, but they came out like I was a two-year-old who had barely managed the art of speaking in complete sentences.

"What?" Blake sat on the floor, my head cradled in his lap. He waved a hand in front of me. "Can you see me?"

"You're blurry."

"You hit your head pretty hard."

"Why would I do that?"

His hand stroked my forehead. Jack's gentle, barely there touch. I closed my eyes.

"Don't do that, don't go away, Mazie. Stay here."

"You sound like Jack."

"The police will be here soon," Kayla's voice grew louder as she walked towards us. I forced myself to open my eyes again.

"Why are the police coming?"

She crouched down next to me. "How hard did you hit your head? Zeke tried to kill you both. I called your parents too, Mazie. They're on their way."

"Oh God, really?" I'd rather deal with police questioning me than with my parents' fretful attention.

Kayla made a gurgling sound. "I'm so sorry. I told Ethan that Blake was coming over to your house. I didn't think he and his brother would..." she trailed off. "I didn't even realize they knew where you lived."

Ethan and Zeke. "Where'd they go. Did I shoot them?"

Kayla made a face. "Of course not."

"Did I shoot anyone?"

She exchanged a glance with Blake. "I hope the EMTs gets here at the same time the cops do."

They didn't understand me. I had to make them see that I was being perfectly reasonable. "Jack had a memory of me pointing a gun at Blake."

"You did point a gun at me," Blake said. "Twice, actually. But not because you wanted to shoot me. I think you were in shock."

"So, I saved you from dying and becoming a sweet, beautiful ghost?"

"You um, you say that like it's a bad thing?"

I didn't answer; instead I turned my head away from him. The movement made me flinch, but the physical pain was nowhere near as bad as the keening hollowness carving out a permanent place in my chest.

I'd woken and everything was different. Ethan and Zeke seemed to have fled. Blake was unmurdered, I was barely conscious, and Jack...

"Blake, how do you feel?"

"You're worried about me?" He stilled his hand on my forehead. "I'm fine, Mazie. You saved my life. I don't even have that creeped out feeling the way I did when I first came to your house. It's like I'm heavier and lighter at the same time."

"You're whole again." I bit my lip and let the tears fall.