#school spirits paramount plus

"Big day for who, I wonder."

His torso moved from the sound echoing in his core, laughing at your rolling eyes while you bit hungrily at your burger.

Wally was your bestfriend since middle school, sometimes, you wished you would have met him sooner.

It took a glance, a pin on your bag from your favorite cartoon, also happening to be his, and Wally personality worked its wonder.

A conversation, a lunch together... Him asking for your pen, which you got back before never seeing it again after a year of frienship. Sharing snacks... And before you knew it, you were each other shadow.

Doing everything together, having conversations you both thought would never have with anybody.

You bestfriended so hard that it became normal in both your household to have pyjama parties.

Wally agreed to anything you would propose him. A beauty mask with the cutest headband on ? He's in. Devoring ice cream while watching your favorite movie for the fiftieth time with him parenting all your plushies in his arms ? Didn't even need to ask.

And of course you agreed to anything he would ask you. Just fair trade. Showing up to his match with his spare jersey and jacket ? You're already wearing it. Helping him in his garden, throwing balls that were going anywhere but near him and screaming everytime he tried to scare you by tossing it back too hard ? You'll just launch the tiny leather rocket harder next throw.

And accompanying each other everywhere also was in the unspoken norms between you.

"I can't believe I can't even come tonight." You pouted, looking at your half eaten meal.

"Mother's rules." He shrugged. He didn't want to talk endlessly about it, but he shared your point of view.

Your eyes had rolled at his answer.

The nights before a big game were the ones he needed you most near him. Needed your comfort and your company. But of course, it were the only nights you weren't allowed to stay. Wally's mom not wanting you to disturb her son's peace.

You both weren't the type to break the rules, yet, sometimes, you bended them really hard.

"But," You raised your glance towards him and his desperate fidgeting hands. "do you think you could still try to come over ?"

It wasn't your first time hearing him said those kind of words. Suggesting you to go against the rules you both knew could get a hard scold for.

Nonetheless, it wasn't every game nights that Wally asked that of you. He'll never try and cut the string of the raging sword above both your heads.

He just needed you, and you knew it.

"Yeah." Your voice was quiet, warm, barely above a whisper as if the table right behind you would spread your secrets. When his brown eyes looked finally back at you, you felt how the night would have gone for him if loneliness won over. "Same hour right ? I'll be at your window."

Just like that, his smile was back like every worries of the world were just swiped away by your bare hands.

He also took that rush of joy to reach to your hand and steal your burger to rip off the biggest bite of the Wally's bite history.

"Come on dude ! You said you didn't want any !" You were outraged, not because he stole from you, but because he just godzilled your food. Which made him laugh while he tried to chew.

He knew how much you hated when people, like your mom, would take the bite of their life, tearing off your kindness along the way.

It was at least different with Wally, it made you scoff. Maybe because you knew he would buy you your favorite snacks afterwards.

. . .

Three knocks on the window was your cue for Wally to open to you. After waiting for a certain hour where you both knew would be out of trouble, you fast walked to his house, used the ladder long forgotten behind the house and in a bat of an eye, you were scaring yourself up his roof.

You've done it a few times, but you still hated climbing up there.

His arm helped you climb in, giving you balance and something to hold on to. He knew how much effort you were putting every single time you wanted to see him. And it made his heart warm up.

"I can't believe I haven't fell yet." You whispered in the room, slowly closing the window for him.

"Don't jinx it."

"Oh I wish."

Even through Wally's amused brown glance, you could grasp the colors of a warning sign. You never broke a bone, and you weren't going to under his watch.

Your body moved on his own, passing a rythm you knew all to well as if the boy's bedroom was yours too.

You fell on his bed once you hid away your tote bag under it.

Even after all these years, Wally's room scent always managed to ease you into believing you had found heaven on earth. Of course it had that boyish smell only a boy room could create. Yet, you could grasp whiff of his deodorant and the snacks he stacked away for you.

What you couldn't perceive amongst your best friend belongings, was your own scent. Wally though, of course noticed it everyday. Your fragrance had long been absorbed by some of his furniture and clothes.

Not to forget his bed you were currently catying yourself on.

Wally always let you use his bed as your own when you slept at his house, setting an old mattress soundly resting in the garage on his bedroom floor for him to sleep on.

Well, he always used to. After a few movies where you both fell asleep on his bed, sleeping separately sometimes became irrelevent. Especially when you both had to bring the matress back on forth from his bedroom to the garage, and especially tonight.

"You really rushed here in pyjamas." Wally lightly scoffed, taking a seat on the edge of his bed near you.

"I was on a mission, plus it would have been annoying to change here. Now I can just tuck myself to bed."

You turned your words to actions and covered yourself with the sheets, making the brown haired jock lightly chuckle.

"You know what I'm gonna do the same." His own words took action and his body pushed you to the further side of his crappy bed.

"God you take so much space ! No need to glue yourself to me !" You shouted to him through a whisper.

"It's either that or you sleep on the floor." He smiled back at you.

You rolled to your side to look at him with a frown.

"You won't dare."

"I am starting to-"

Two knock on his door made your body jerk, almost making him jump off the bed.

"Wally ?"

"Oh god that's my mom."

"Turn around turn around ! I'll hide behind your back !"

Your quiet voice instructed, so he executed. Turning his back to you, he allowed your body to close the gap and rest your forehead against his clothed skin. You were fully mirroring his body form to erase your presence.

"Yeah ?" He responded to his mother, his voice uncertain making him sound on the verge of dreams.

The wooden door opened, the woman only daring to show her face, believing her son was starting to fall asleep.

"Tomorrow's the day. I am sure you'll make me proud."

You could hear in her voice the expectation she had, how mistakes weren't part of her vocabulary.

"Yeah, of course mom."

You also heard that broken string in the back of Wally's throat, burried deep down. Echoing behind walls of stillness.

She wished the best night for her son before closing the old door as if your best friend was a baby already deep asleep.

Silence floated in the air for a while, a while too long, but a while he needed. You only nuzzled you forehead against him like a needy cat would, sweeping away the unwanted thoughts clouding his brain away from your silly attempt. He laughed.

"What are you doing ?" His smile asked, trying to look at you from above his shoulder.

"Comforting you."

On those words, his whole body turned around to face you, getting to meet his chest instead of his back.

"Oh well hello you guys." You raised your eyebrows to the sudden change.

Wally scoffed once more, bumping his forehead on top of your hair to make you look up.

"Eyes up here girl."

"That could have caused a concussion you know." You faked annoyance with a little pout only you had the secret for.

"With that big head of yours ? You're safe."

You whispered a gasp as loud as you could to be the right amount of fakely hurt, but not to much to be heard.

"That was mean !"

"Big but cute." He mocked.

"That doesn't help your case !!"

An exhale escaped you at the tuck of his lips. You couldn't get really mad, and he knew it. He always knew.

Yet, the spark you brought in the dark of his eyes soon crumbled under the thoughts still echoing in the back of his mind.

Thoughts of tomorrow.

Your own smile disappeared even when your forced a comforting tuck at its corner, wanting to ease his mind.

"We'll find a solution."

You had discussed about it, winning was Wally ticket for an intership. Or maybe more of a ticket for his mother.

He didn't want to do it, his mental couldn't take much more. But he had to. He always had to.

"I am not so sure about that." His eyes were tired. For a split second, you couldn't even see your reflection in them.

"Then I'll be right by your side." You straightened your pinky between you, wanting to seal your words under childhood magic.

He breathed a chuckle through his nose, bringing his pinky to yours and intertwining whatever words could make the pain of tomorrow go away.

"Feels like a wedding promise." A shadow of a smile appeared.

"Oh you wish."

A snort almost left his lungs if it hadn't been for some right timed self control.

"It's more of a... 'until the end of the line' promise." You finished.

"What line ?"

Your eyes widened at the same time you frowned.

"Dude you can't be that dense."

"I mean, there's a lots of lines in life." Was he just trying to tuck at every string he could to make you react and trigger a laugh. Probably.

"Every single one then. Every lines."

Your quiet overreaction couldn't distract him from the spark shining in your eyes. He only smiled, the same and tender one he offered you every time your words crawled in a corner of his heart and couldn't be shaken off anymore.

It sounded right, going until the end of the line with you.

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Wally didn't even made it to the fifth line yard when his body was slammed against the grassy and muddy ground. The sound echoing throughout the stadium.

Yet, it didn't quiet down any of the fuss.

You were the first to stand up tall, your core warning you something was wrong.

Your brain lying to you that he would get back up, like he always did. Because Wally always get back up.

Your heart speed rang in your ears, confining you in your own anxiety bubble.

Your body ran cold as you could hear only a few words, a few sentences whispered behind the, still, loud laughter and cheering.

Doubts. Wondering voices.

Questioning what happened when Wally's body didn't get up after a second too long.

A single of those voices was enough to make your vision blurry and your legs run down the bleacher's stairs. Your mind never focused on your mouvements, your feet tripped over each other, over the stairs, only able to look at the form of your best friend.

A few adults eyes caught on faster than the players, calling everyone out, trying to gather the attention.

You didn't even get the chance to put a feet over the line of the field when hands stopped you, grabbing your arm and keeping you on the other side of the scene.

You didn't turn around to look at the person stopping you. You couldn't.

Your eyes were glued to that unmoving body meters away from you.

You pulled, tried to run again. But the grip pulling you was stronger.

"Stay here darling. Stay here."

Her voice was panicked, trembling. She thought she was doing the best thing by keeping you away from her son.

Wally's mother's voice couldn't reach your ears. Nothing could.

"What's happening ?" Your voice rushed, shattering under thoughts that couldn't be accepted.

Only a second passed without your sentence being freed, without being answered.

You shouted, as fast, "WHAT'S HAPPENING ?" the sound from your own vocal cords unknown to you. You couldn't care.

Your voice shook the curtains only death could see.

A form that seconds ago was turned around, hazel, concerned eyes looking at you.

Wally didn't feel his death. He had only looked at the players still running around and his inert body.

He quickly forgot about it all, your state the only thing his mind could wrap around. The only thing that still felt important.

The despair in your eyes. The mix of anxiety, anger, despair, your voice screaming until you could no longer.

His legs jogged to you, to his mom trying to take you away.

"Hey... hey... It's okay." He didn't know what words he uttered, nor did he even know what went through his mind when he spoke up in a vain attempt to see, to believe you would look his way.

Not to the body you couldn't stop staring at, but him. Right next to you.

But you could no longer see him.

As his body got dragged away in black, plastic ending, you knew it was the last time.

Yet, you couldn't acknowledge, you would no longer see him.

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Seconds turned into days, which turned into months.

You never set foot outside of your room. Barely drinking. Almost eating.

You had to, though, one day. The day you didn't want to go to.

The day it would mean to accept, to say goodbye. To ackowledge there was no "see you tomorrow" to hear again.

Wally's funeral.

You went for him, more than for yourself. You didn't want to go, and you knew he wouldn't have forced you to.

But if spirits really were a thing, angels watching you from above, you had to be there.

You were the shadow of yourself. Not a word escaped your mouth, not even a sound.

You only followed your mom.

Bowed your head to greet, cried when people talked about your best friend. You went home as soon as you could.

Staring at that cold, engraved stone was another drop that made you believe you could die right next to his grave. Not able to breathe anymore.

You stayed like this, curled in bed, thinking about him for as long as only your mother know. Your body wrapped in clothes he had forgetten in a corner of your room.

. . .

Wally couldn't see you for a whole month.

He could only imagine the state you were in. Leaving your house being a topic throwed out the window with rage everytime it would be slightly mentionned.

He could only think, pray, and wait. Seated at the school entrance watching the cars come and go under Ronda scoff.

She would pester him, compare him to a lost, abandoned puppy. But deep down, she somehow understood.

Sometimes patting Wally on his shoulder before leaving as soon.

Every ghost wondered what maintained him here, seated, waiting. Wondered how much longer his patience could go on.

He never moved, even at night. Barely a few times when other undead asked for him, when Mr.Martin voice became a bit too loud.

But he always did it with hesitation. Always did it while looking back every meters he walked away.

And he always came back.

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And one day, he heard it.

The roaring and old rumble of your mother's car.

His gaze followed, his body jerked up, rushing to, he hoped, you.

Your mom was comprehensive and patient with you. But somehow, she had decided that one month locked in was enough time for the first stage of your grieving process and that you could do the others back in school.

You wore a long lost hoodie, hood stretched all the way down your face, your arms crossed over your chest, your body sunk in the passager seat.

You didn't want to move. Didn't want to see the school, the classrooms, his seats, his locker resting right next to yours.

You didn't want to see the field.

You didn't want to see anything.

Yet, one speech too many made you get out of the car. Slamming the door behind you, you walked like a dead body.

You made yourself small, smaller than you should. You looked tired. You looked...

"Did you lose weight ?"

Wally voice questionned, although, it was more of an observation than a question.

Even with your body fully dressed under the sun's warmth, he could see it in the hollows painted on your cheeks. The lack of hamster like roundness of your face.

You dragged your feet to your locker, careful not to glance at Wally's, a cold, worried presence hot on your heels.

"Please tell me you did eat."

"Y/n..."

The voice of one of your friend was gentle, almost not believing you were actually here.

Wally looked back and forth, were you... Ignoring her ?

"How are..." The question sounded stupid on her tongue, of course you haven't been well, still weren't. "Is there anything I can do ?"

You ruffled through your thing, not really knowing what you were looking for. Did you even know what was in your locker anymore ?

You took the first thing that seemed correct, a random notebook, and closed your locker. You lingered your hand on the metal door, hesitant, before shrugging your shoulders and leaving in the opposite direction.

Wally watched you slowly walk away, standing next to the sad brunette who had tried to hear a word from your voice. He couldn't understand why your lips seemed to be sealed. You always were a rather quiet person, but you never ignored someone.

"She could at least respond." Another voice showed up next to your friend, another girl. She was a bit upset with your attitude.

"It's okay." The brunette responded. "She is going through a lot right now. Wally was everything for her."

Her words only planted his feet deeper in the ground, his heart clutching around itself.

"I think she not only lost him that day... But a part of herself too." They both looked at your form becoming harder to discern.

Wally's jaw clenched, his eyes stinging, his heart warning him.

His feet ran after you.

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He followed you everyday. Watched how your voice never came out your throat for days and days.

Watched how your friends tried to comfort you, how you rejected them with a turn of your heels every.single.time.

Watched how you skipped every lunch, how you bit in a apple to end a single speaker argument and spitted the huge bite you took in a trash can when you left the room.

You were too quiet, bitter, almost provocating. Aggressive if someone deared to talk to you.

He could only be a witness, be there without you knowing. And it was starting to get to him.

. . .

An hour had passed.

An hour you were seated at the smallest table of the school library, which somehow managed to be in a corner no one was passing by, a sketchbook in front of you.

Wally was in front of you, watching your unmoving form and your eyes lost on the blank paper.

You didn't talk, not even to yourself like you would sometimes do.

You haven't talked either the time you hid yourself near the football field, not too close, not too far. You only sat on the floor, Wally next to you.

He had hoped, for you to utter a word in your moment of loneliness, of vulnerability.

He was meet with endless nothing.

And at some point, you cried.

It felt like an eternity. Hearing your sobbing, your sniffing.

It was the only time he heard a sound coming from you, when you cried that day, your voice almost silently screaming.

His head rested against the wall behind you, powerless. Sick.

Your chair scraped against the floor, making the memories in Wally's head disappear.

You had already shoved your sketchbook at the bottom of your bag, pushed your chair, and you left.

Wally jerked up, following your steps as his chair was reset at a table farther.

"Where are you going ?" His voice resonated in the empty hall for himself to hear.

You walked, even if you didn't know where to go. The library had too many people in it, and your empty sketchbook was starting to hit a nerve.

The more you rewinded all the places you could go to, the less you knew where to actually head.

"Since when did you stop drawing ? You used to love it !" Wally continued to talk behind you. Maybe for you, maybe for himself. "You always scrap something up, you don't need me to do what you like !"

Even through sadness, empathy, anxiety, he felt frustrated. Frustrated to see how you isolated yourself from good people. How every meal was just something didn't worth your time. How you stopped talking, smiling, creating.

It just looked like your life was at an alt. Like it had stopped. And he hated it.

"Y/n !"

You stopped in your track, and he did too, a few feet away behind you. Because no matter how tall Wally was and how short your legs were, you always managed to walk faster than him.

His heart stopped, stress crawling in, hopping, as his breath was caught in his throat.

You turned around, fixing, tired eyes piercing through air. Searching for something, anything. Maybe something you thought you heard, something that was not there.

For feet usually following you with long strides. For brown hair and sweet smiles.

God, you were going insane.

His brain thought, for a few seconds, that your bond managed to shake the line between life and death.

But there was no denying it. Not a single spark of hope in sight.

Your eyes were piercing through him.

You still wondered in thoughts of the past, stopped in your track, imagining Wally waiting for you to start walking again a few feet away. Because you somehow managed to always walk faster than him.

Tears welled up your eyes.

You tried not to let them pour, biting your lips inwards.

Wally didn't know what to do. Could he even do anything ? No, he couldn't.

His only option was watching you.

You turned around, sniffed away the tears with your sleeve rubbing your eyes as you walked.

He followed.

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"Wally ?"

His head looked up from where he was seated, next to you, in an empty hallway.

His eyes met Janet one's and her sweet, comprehensive yet urgent smile.

"Mister Martin asked for you. He is waiting in the gym."

"Yeah, okay." He nodded, fidgeting his hands, hesitant.

Janet caught on, it was hard not to. All those little signals he picked up after his death when he was with, or even without, you. The hesitation to leave you alone, maintaining his eyes on you until you were out of sight. Even refusing to move at all.

But he knew he had to, at some point.

"I'll watch over her. I'll tell you if anything happens." She kept smiling, hands clasped in front.

Wally smiled, looked one more time at you. At your head down and your gaze still on the empty sketchbook you have been eyeing for minutes too long.

He stood up, thanked Janet one last time before walking to the stairs right next to you three. With of course, a glance your way every step he took.

He soon disappeared in the stairs corner, walking towards the gym against his will.

Janet focused on you, her body moving to stand next to you. She watched your pencil mindlessly tapping grey dots on the blank paper.

You couldn't focus, even if you wanted to. Opening your sketchbook was a way to pretend you were busy, to make yourself believe you were busy. That you were actually doing something.

Your pencil ever barely touched the paper, mind too loud to draw, yet, heart too numb to think.

You could only remember the times Wally watched you draw. The times, he would ask you to teach him something. A line, a technique... And the others he just quietly gazed at your moving hands.

You sighed through your nose, a bit harder than intended. Impatience was building its way to your heart, tears threatening to sting your eyes.

It would be an understatement to say you hadn't noticed how your mood changed these past weeks.

Everything that drived you was anger, frustration, sadness, melancholy. You hated yourself for that. Hated the fact that you couldn't help but get angry at everyone sparing you a glance. And hated when woe wrapped your heart in deep, black silk.

But you hated more the fact that he wasn't around anymore.

You closed the book shut, like you would every time you took it out, when an hour or two had passed.

You stood up after shoving, yet again, the block of papers in your bag. You didn't want to be here anymore, you needed to change your scenery, to find a different hiding spot where you could pretend to do something new.

Turning your body quickly to reach the stairs, your foot already one stair down, you didn't feel yourself for a second. Brain fuzzy and eyes clouded, your head spinning.

"Oh god." You mumured faintly, shakely.

You wanted to stop your body from moving further, but your brain had already send a signal to your feet for the next move. For the next step.

The dizziness dragged you down, forced your flesh to descend quicker, made your heel slip at the edge of the step.

Your hand tried to grasp the handrail.

Missed shakily.

Your heartbeat quickened, but it was too late. Even with your head spinning, you felt your whole form falling forward, head first.

It was quick, way too quick.

A thought, not even a scream, barely the time to process, to fully be frighten.

You only heard a loud, horrifying thud. Something cracking. Snapping.

Your eyes widened at the form suddenly appearing at your feet.

You could recognise your clothes, your hair tossed in every direction but the right one. And your head, a weird angle twisting it.

You weren't supposed to be standing up, looking at a corpse seemingly yours.

You should be laying down, grunting from the fall, cursing eveything but yourself. Or maybe just yourself

Janet felt it in her core when you landed, light twitching for a few seconds only for the dead to see.

You just passed away, right before her very eyes. It was only a matter of seconds before the others would rush in every corner to find you.

She went down the stairs, only a few ones before the click of her heals made you snap your head to her.

She offered you a smile, apologizing for something that had nothing to do with her.

Your eyes caught on faster than you could originally have to. Her outfit was nothing your generation would wear.

She looked like your mom.

"Are you alright ?" She had stopped half way, unsure of the rightness of her words. She still didn't know what was the right sentence to offer to a person who just passed away.

You looked at her, incredulous, before glancing at your once body.

"Well I just..." Somehow you couldn't get the words out. What if you misinterpreted.

Janet felt surprised, her eyebrows raising. So that was your voice.

"Died." She added the word for you.

"That what I thought." You sighed, still not really processing.

The halls were empty, life still happening in various classroom while your head sinked in your palms.

This was ridiculous. The whole event was ridiculous.

Your death was ridiculous.

You were ridiculous.

And the more you stayed there, the more you felt our body take root into the floor.

"How about we..."

Her voice seemed to call you back to your senses. She wasn't familiar. It could distract you a few seconds from the reality that happened.

"Who are you ?" You looked back at her, lost, hands sliding down your face to scratch your neck.

"I'm-"

"Janet ?!"

A voice, loud, urgent, resonated further down the hall.

Your head snapped in its direction, face falling, lips trembling, eyes stinging, heart throbbing.

You knew this voice.

God, every single one of your cells knew this voice.

Your heart forced your feet to urgently make a move, descending every steps of the remaining stairs a little faster each time. The sound echoing and mixing with the one ringing in your ears.

You stopped at the end, looking at the person, the familiar blue, who had stopped too, meters away when he recognised your shoes.

A second flew by, passing oh so slowly. A second where he first believed your eyes pierced through his form, like each time you looked back, as if a red string was calling you to him.

But this time was different, he saw it.

The acknowledgement of seeing him again in your eyes. The tears swirling, pouring down your face hurriedly.

You thought your eyes were deceiving you. It wasn't possible for him to be here.

Yet, his image was stronger than any thought that tried to call you crazy. The feelings you felt when seeing his face erased all that had happened to you after he left.

"Wally..." Your voice was weak, quivering under the weight of the times you missed him. Lost him.

You felt your body becoming weaker at his view, wanting to crumble down and scream your agony to the world. To express how much you missed him.

When Wally heard your voice for the first time in what felt like an eternity, seen the relief in your eyes, the exhaustion exhaling out of your throat. He understood his absence almost erased all that you were, and he felt responsible for it.

He knew you adored each other, but maybe, he had lied to himself about how you could live without one another. That your lives were more linked that you could have ever thought.

And now here you were, in front of him. Dead.

Yet, even crying until you could no longer, your knees on the verge of giving up under your sorrow. You've never looked so alive.

You were letting everything shatter inside you. You showed yourself like you should have from the beginning, not hiding behind an empty book. It was suffocating.

He ran to you, catching you in his arms before you could try to motion a step further. One that would send your legs against the hard floor.

His arms envelopped you, strong, gentle, becoming the strength you needed to protect your body from breaking in his hold.

Your arms tightly embraced him in return, face hiding in the hollow of Wally's neck. Searching for the warmth you knew, for the safe place you missed, for the scent you had been scared to forget.

"I am here, I am here... Everything's okay." His voice wanted to soothe you, clear the storm striking inside of you.

You trembled, exhaling through wet and throbbing tears.

"I missed you... I missed you so much..." Your voice was weak, almost breaking, blowing your last strength away from your grasp.

You couldn't hear the ring blasting against the walls, inviting every students to leave the chair they stayed on for an hour.

Couldn't hear the chatters, the laughter, the footsteps, and the screams.

"How about we move ? Just us, to our spot."

Wally knew you couldn't hear the chaos the discovery of your, once, body created. He hoped, you would hear him.

Your hold on him tightened, a sign only his presence seemed to exist in your crumbling world, your senses only allowing him to find a way past your cracks.

Of course you would hear him.

He didn't need to remind himself of the gestures you needed. Your body wasn't going to move, you weren't going to let go. At least not for now.

So he lifted you up, moved your body to get you in a postion where he could keep you in his hold while walking you out of the building.

Like every time you needed him, Wally was going to take care of you. Making up for the time you missed together, hearing your pain out, finding food hidden in the kitchen of the school cafeteria. Hell, he'll even rummage through all the students' bags just to find something to lift your spirit.

For the next hours, he did most of the talking. Your eyes wanted to know the things you haven't been able to hear when his life was taken away from him, his voice soothing you into knowing everything was going to be fine.

Even with you now stuck as ghosts, your parents mourning and blaming themselves for the loss of their kids, being stuck with Wally for nobody knows how long didn't feel like you just lost your life.