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When Piper’s dad first told her they were moving, she sighed. The last five years had been spent moving from one sleek new building to another, with whoever he was divorcing getting it in the settlement. Step-mom number three was a little goth and had chosen a Victorian house out near downtown LA. It was nice- not the Oklahoma ranch that Piper yearned for, the one with horses and lots of clean air, but it at least had a porch. She also thought that the pale purple colour and big windows were pretty cool. Her stepmom had insisted on her marital home having some kind of cool and morbid history- Piper figured as long as she didn’t hear the words ‘ancient indian burial ground’ then they were good. After some light research Piper had determined that the house’s history wasn’t as salacious as her Step Mom wanted- mostly just sad and littered with tragedy that the local horror tours liked to ham up.
Her new room was spacious with a pretty sick reading nook- the last occupant had put down an aqua carpet over the hardwood and covered the walls in a pretty severe pink that was a bit too y2k for Piper’s taste. She certainly couldn’t imagine the old guy who had sold them the place choosing these colours. He had been a tall history professor whose two sons had flown the nest years ago, leaving him and his wife to retire to Boston. He’d had light grey hair, a tired face, and watery eyes that had looked sadly at Piper as he left.
She was half way through filling her new closet when she found it. Piper had yanked open the drawer of her built in dresser to finally give her mountain of thrifted Levi’s a home, when out tumbled a large box. The thing landed with a clatter right onto her big toe, causing her to let out a string of curses that would have made her grandfather blush. It had a thick film of dust coating it and as she wiped it away, she begged to whatever god that would listen that the grime didn’t ruin her manicure. It was an ouija board; an old one at that. Given her life long passion for horror movies and that fact she wasn’t white- Piper threw that shit away.
Her new room was mostly done: the walls were now a pale lilac and her step-mom had restored the floors. This one was pretty cool, she had the same taste in eclectic furniture as Piper and not only gave her a ride to the best flea markets in the city, but cared enough to haggle for the ridiculous art nouveau furniture the teenager coveted. It was nice. Her new school wasn’t bad and there was even a girl in her art class who had a nose ring, only painted women with huge breasts, and lingered by Piper’s table when it was her turn to give out worksheets. Any day now, Piper would work up the courage to add her on snapchat and make her move. She had art class today, and the jeans that made her ass look really good were of course right at the back of her closet.
With her whopping five feet of height and lack of step stool, Piper had resorted to groping around until she felt that perfect worn in denim texture only they had. She figured she must be close, until her fingers met something solid and leather. In surprise she jerked back, her closet teetering and slamming back, forcing her pants to tumble out and drench her. Something else clattered out with them- that box.
After first finding it she had tried to throw it out, only for her step-mom to fish it out the garbage and hail it a proper antique that ought to be kept. It had been living quite happily in the downstairs study as far as Piper was concerned- so how had it ended up back here? Maybe it was a prank; only, her step-mom didn’t know where she had found it- so how could she have returned it to its exact spot? Piper figured it could have been luck- but boy what a fluke that would have been! In the fall, the lid had popped off, and out spilt the board and a delicate little planchette. Hastily Piper tidied them away, only to find a strange strip of hot pink fabric and a small green button alongside the antiques. Gathering the strange items into her palm, she considered them for a moment before something caught her eye. There was movement by her reading nook where two figures had appeared. They were crouched on the cushioned bench and looking out of her window. In her surprise, Piper’s hand shook and the little scrap of fabric fell back to the floor.
They looked almost solid, like seeing someone through smoke. The girl was tall and blonde- things that usually spelt out crush to Piper. She was like a Britney Spears wannabee- dolled up in a pink velour tracksuit, her over pronounced breasts spilling out of a white tank top. Piper darted her eyes down to see if she had a cute little ring through her bellybutton to boot, only to have bile rise in her throat. What should have been a smooth expanse of exposed stomach was muddied a dark red. The edge of her jacket had soaked up some of the blood, totally ruining the malibu barbie thing she had going. Where Piper had imagined her piercing was a savage cut, the poor girl’s intestine and stomach had spilled out a little and now rested atop her low waisted sweat pants; it was the kind of wound that no one could survive. The smokey figure, who had turned to Piper after her sharp gasp of surprise, caught the teenagers gaze and her own expression darkened. Piper had figured she’d have ocean blue eyes to complete her image, but instead her pretty face was gifted with stormy rain clouds.
‘Rude- stare much?’ the girl snapped at Piper, combing through her curly hair with her obnoxiously square french tips. The boy next to her was partially obscured as he had yet to move from the window, but from what she could tell he was lanky with handsome dark features. His clothes made him look like he’d stepped right out of some costume drama her dad was working on- dark slacks just unfashionable enough to not be a throw back and a starched shirt that looked a bit too big. At his friend’s words, he turned to her. Now, Piper couldn’t help but scream.
The first thing she saw was a pretty green eye and the smallest hint of a smirk. In her defence, there wasn’t much else. The right side of his face was nothing but gore- like something had taken fifty whacks to it. He was completely destroyed: like his skull had collapsed in on itself, the cavity of an axe strike showing off layers of peeling skin and exposing the raw flesh underneath. Piper wailed and tears burst from her eyes- at her reaction, what was left of his face sagged into a frown. He turned away a little, retreating into a shadow like it could almost make her forget the horror of his face.
‘You are rude!’ yelled the misty girl, ‘First you tear up my sick aqua carpet then you go and hurt Percy’s feelings!’
Piper felt the air in her room cool several degrees in seconds, the gentle breeze that had been a welcome addition to the California fall now howled and tore around her bedroom. Her clothes rattled from the hangers, books jumped from their shelves, and the jeans she had disturbed earlier now whipped around the room like a strange Canadian tuxedo hurricane. Piper was sobbing now, desperate pleas escaping her trembling lips as her shitty new lamp crashed onto the floor.
‘Beth, I think that’s enough,’ came a soft voice that cut through the violence like a hot knife through butter. Piper peeked through one eye to see the ghastly boy, who had gently taken zombie Barbie's hand. In an instant the storm ceased, leaving her new room looking as if a tornado had passed through it, but so still that it was as if nothing had happened at all.
‘Hmph,’ the ghost girl grunted, ‘Listen up fresh meat- the deal is that if you play nice then we play nice- got it?’
Piper, who was half sure she was going through some kind of psychotic episode, nodded. Quickly, she darted out of the room, resigning herself to going school in her hello kitty pyjamas.
The next few weeks were pretty weird. For some reason, only Piper could see the ghostly squatters, something that became overwhelmingly obvious when she sat down for family dinner only to notice Barbie hanging out in the kitchen with her unfazed step-mom. The girl's legs were kicking out from where she was perched on the island, her intestine drooping down next to the fruit bowl. Her step-mom was setting the table as usual, not noticing how she phased through the ghost’s legs. Piper had pretty much come to terms with the fact she was probably going insane, but the ghosts hadn’t bothered her since the first encounter- in fact, she hadn’t seen Percy once. The ghost girl seemed unfazed by Piper’s predicament and could often be seen lounging in Piper’s bedroom, pulling books from the downstairs library or half heartedly rummaging through her CD collections.
After a week of feeling totally crazy, Piper decided to do a little research on her school computer into the history of the house. Something much more in depth than half heartedly listening to her Stepmother’s ramblings. In her search she found some old newspaper reports about a murder in 2005. The descriptions seemed to match: high-schooler Anna Elizabeth Chase, death by grievous bodily harm, and her killer unknown. There was a grainy digital photo that Piper had managed to find in an old yearbook of a pretty girl with a classic California tan and a list of extra curriculars longer than her obituary. Cheerleader, track team, chess club, and school council were just a few of the girls' credits. The article had also said she was on track to graduate early and heading for early admissions to Berkley before her death.
Piper didn’t know what it was that made her do it, but after reading the grisly police report, she clicked open another tab. Before heading to school the next day, she fished out the brand new chess set and left it on her vanity.
By the time Piper returned home, it was gone.
Weeks later there was still no sign of the ghost boy, but Annabeth had slowly carved herself a place in Piper’s routine. After accepting the chess set, the ghost had become something like a pet to Piper, one who left strange gifts and hung around aloofly. It had started with a history project that Piper was pretty stuck on and her waking up to post-its on helpful pages of her textbook. The less helpful gifts had become a source of annoyance for Piper- each day Annabeth sought to leave a pre-prepared outfit laying neatly by her closet, nearly always involving some sort of mini skirt or tube top that would so get Piper dress coded. Every time Piper walked past the outfit and pulled on her usual cargo shorts or thrifted t-shirt, the ghost would sigh and make some sort of passive aggressive comment. On the off chance Piper managed to slip away unnoticed in the morning- the ghost’s bitching would increase tenfold come the afternoon. Today was no different.
‘What’s the point of having such nice boobs if you’re just going to wear a men’s XL t-shirt,’ she’d bemoan, ‘Fish want me, women fear me? What the hell kind of message does that send?’
‘Mhm,’ grunted Piper in response, throwing her back pack away and face planting on her bed.
‘Math quiz not go so well?’ asked the ghost, who turned out to be some kind of algebra wizz, had been unsuccessfully tutoring Piper for the past few weeks. Piper let out another grunt but put out a thumbs up. She had in fact crushed her quiz and had earned that solid B. Through her face full of comforter, she felt her phone buzz.
‘Who’s texting you?’ asked Annabeth, appearing at the end of her bed, legs kicking up as she inspected her ghostly manicure.
‘How do you know what texting is?’ Piper asked as she sat up, spitting a braid out of her mouth.
‘Please,’ the blonde scoffed, ‘I had a phone- I wasn’t an animal. Mine was just smaller with more buttons- but my brother’s both had smart phones before they left for college.’
The girls voice got a little sad and Piper could see why. She couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to watch her family go on getting older whilst she stayed preserved in what must have been the worst moment of her life. Piper felt guilty and tried to change the subject.
‘Oh, just Jason,’ she replied idly, choosing to throw away her phone and ignore the message.
‘Who’s that?’ asked the ghost, perking up at the name.
‘Ex-boyfriend,’ she said to pacify her. The girl tilted her head in confusion.
‘I thought you were- uh,’ the ghost struggled, Piper knew she was trying to find a polite way to call her a dyke. They’d had a few frank discussions about what was acceptable to say and for the most part the blonde seemed to get it- although Piper had to pretend not to laugh when the ghost called her carabiner a lady lover hook.
‘I’m more into people than gender,’ replied Piper, studying the pale girl’s face for a reaction. The ghost just nodded thoughtfully.
‘There was this girl on my cheer squad I thought was the prettiest person in the world,’ said Annabeth a little shyly, catching Piper off guard, ‘But I also found her boyfriend pretty hot too, so I’m whatever that is.’
Piper didn’t reply, just regarded her new friend with a little more affection. Sure, they were unconventional- but Piper didn’t really mind.
‘So,’ Annabeth continued, ‘Jason?’
‘He was nice, a perfect first boyfriend,’ Piper said simply. It was true, he was a wonderful experience, but there just wasn’t much longevity there.
‘Nice,’ Annabeth said the word like she was tasting it, considering the letters and carefully sampling the meaning, ‘My first boyfriend wasn’t very nice.’
Piper couldn’t help it, her eyes darted to the wound. She wondered…
Annabeth, clever and intelligent and dead Annabeth, caught her gaze and sighed.
‘His name was Luke, he was- older,’ she said, and Piper’s blood ran cold, ‘He wasn’t well- his dad had left and his mom wasn’t all there. Neither was he as it turned out…’
Piper didn’t know what to say, where to look, what to do. But Annabeth wasn’t really here right now, her eyes looked beyond Piper and into the hallway through the open door. There was a room at the far end of the landing, mostly used for storage now, but Piper had noticed Annabeth never followed her into it as she did the rest of the house.
‘He’d found my college acceptance letters and sort of lost it- my dad had this replica civil war bowie knife in his office and-’
‘Oh Beth,’ Piper whispered, instinctively going to grab her hand but falling straight through, ‘I can do something- now that I know I can go to the cops or-’
‘He killed himself about a month after my funeral- just long enough to play the grieving boyfriend,’ the ghost spat, ‘ Y’know the worst thing? My family kept having him over for dinner- I guess he was pretty convincing but god. How could they do that, how could they let him sit in my home, go through my things, laugh with my brothers-’
That strange wind from their first encounter was back- rippling around the bedroom and fuelled by every heartbreaking word the ghost spoke. In a second another body had entered the room, Percy was now standing like a barrier between Piper and the sobbing ghost. She could only see his back, the inky black hair disguising his wound as he gathered the girl up into a hug. At the contact, the wind stopped and the room got a little warmer. All Piper could hear now was gentle sobbing and Percy’s quiet words of comfort as he guided her out of the room.
‘Percy?’ Piper called from her bed as they got to the threshold. He turned his head very slightly, showing only a sliver of intact face and indicating he had heard her, ‘I just wanted to say- you’re welcome to hang out here with Beth and I, uh, if you want.’
He didn’t reply, but Piper saw the corner of his lips curl up into a smile.
Percy Jackson got easier to look at the more Piper saw him. By now she was almost immune to his peeling epidermis and exposed muscle and tendons. He was funny, as it turned out, and loved it when she left her ipad running with episodes of Jackass. He had died sometime around 1920 after several brutal blows from his step father’s temper and axe, but he didn’t seem all that put out by it.
‘My Mom finally got the courage to leave- there was nothing keeping her here anymore, I could never be too disheartened about my death if it meant she could be free,’ he had told her one day as they watched Annabeth riffle through her closet.
He enjoyed watching movies with her unknowing father, criticising her stepmother’s cooking (‘it’s too much damn salt!’), but Piper had come to realise his favourite pastime was Annabeth. He would watch enraptured as the ghost girl fiddled with her new chess set, or listen in quiet awe as she read from whatever book had captured her attention that week. Piper had also noticed that despite his relative ease with modern life and the changing times, he always managed to look delightfully scandalised at Annabeth’s eternal plunging outfit, his one good eye moving away with frantic chivalry whenever she leant over.
In her growing affection for the boy, Piper had done a little more research and was able to tell him his mother had married a kind old english professor and that he had had a little sister. Sally Blofis had died old and happy but had never forgotten her oldest son. She found a small success as a novelist, but Percy beamed when he found out his Ma was a published writer- she had even dedicated her first novel to him:
My Perseus, here is the happy ending
you did not get
Later, as she toyed with her biology homework, Piper overheard Annabeth quietly reading the book to Percy, whose last good eye shined with something indecipherable.
Piper was going to prom, her date was not the girl from her art class (turned out she was lowkey an anti-vaxer and Piper was so not interested in catching polio thank you very much), but instead a nerdier girl from her calculus study group that had stuttered out an invite after class one day.
Annabeth had actually been a huge help when it came to getting Piper ready, teaching her how to use boob tape correctly and advising what jewellery made her dark complexion pop. Piper had caught the ghost on multiple occasions looking wistfully at the dress hanging on the closet door. Percy had confided in her once the blonde had disappeared for her weekly library haunt.
‘Personally I don't get the fuss,’ he had begun, ‘Sure we had dances, but I’d left school early to work so I suppose I’ve not got much to miss, but Beth’s a hell of a dame- she had suitors left and right.’
‘I guess I’ve never thought about you haunting the house before she died,’ Piper said thoughtfully.
‘She looked real pretty for her dance’s,’ said the boy enthusiastically, ‘I wasn’t really sure about the new styles of dresses but what I did know was that she was the most beautiful girl I ever saw.’
‘You’re real sweet on her aren’t you,’ said Piper softly, the ghost boy just used what was left of his face to give her an earnest smile.
‘If I'd been the lucky guy to court her, you bet I’d have shown up with the biggest bunch of flowers I could afford, I’d have even danced if she’d wanted even though I was always crummy at the waltz,’ he said wistfully. Piper melted. ‘The chump who took her didn’t even come up to the house- just honked and didn’t even open the car door for her!’
‘You old romantic!’ Piper exclaimed, ‘You should ask her out! Or in I guess?’
Now he looked bashful- at least, Piper thought he did.
‘Pretty girl like that doesn’t deserve to be lumped with a guy who looked like he picked a fight with a meat grinder and lost,’ he replied dismissively.
Piper couldn’t see how he could be so blind. Annabeth was nuts for him! In the early days of Piper and Percy’s tentative friendship, she was still a little wary of his looks. Annabeth would glare at her whenever she’d flinch in surprise or gasp if she looked at the horror too closely. The ghost girl was his fiercest protector and wouldn’t hear a bad word about him even if she herself could moan for days- very much a he might be an idiot but he’s my idiot vibe. Annabeth would take every opportunity to throw a compliment Percy’s way, and Piper saw how he flourished under her praise.
‘Hmm,’ Piper replied noncommittally, her brain whirring with a cooking scheme.
On the night of the dance Piper felt as pretty as a princess. Annabeth had been fussing around her all day and even managed to bite her tongue when Piper decided to forgo the sparkly heels in favour of her comfortable doc’s. The spooky wind, as it turned out, could be used for things other than scaring the shit out of the living girl- who needed a dyson airwrap when you had your own ghostly beautician? Piper’s hair was appropriately windswept by the time her taxi arrived, although she let her friend fret a little longer.
‘You look so pretty,’ Annabeth said idly as she manipulated a final strand into a neat curl, ‘Sometimes I wish I'd died in my last prom dress- it was this bitchin blue frock that I think Percy would have liked.’
‘If it makes you feel any better- pink is so your colour,’ Piper remarked as she grabbed her clutch, ‘Also, I don’t think Percy particularly cares about what you’re wearing, he seems pretty thrilled with you regardless.’
Ghosts couldn’t blush, but the shy look Annabeth gave her made Piper imagine her cheeks colouring a pretty scarlet.
‘I know it’s not the same, but how about I leave some music playing- and I’ll take a bunch of photos to show you later!’
The dead girl nodded absently and Piper flicked her sound system on, playing something a little romantic but with enough substance to dance to.
As she darted past the kitchen, she caught Percy lounging on the island, half watching the movie her dad had playing in the next room.
‘Percy!’ she called, and his mangled face turned to her in surprise, ‘Annabeth’s in my room- I think you should give her a little company.’
‘You say something sweetheart?’ her dad called from the lounge.
‘Nothing dad- just heading out!’ she bellowed back, her next sentence was softer, ‘But seriously, she’s a little gloomy- I think only you can cheer her up.’
He didn’t say anything, just nodded seriously (the action caused what was left of his eyelid to flutter and she pretended it didn’t cause bile to rise in her throat). As she left she caught him floating back up to her room. Piper hoped they’d both take the hint- the soft yellow string lights, slow dance music, and the totally kissable privacy.
She also wondered idly what Annabeth could kiss once one of them worked up the courage- but hey, that was for those two dead kids to figure out.