Love, Like Ghosts: A Bay City Paranormal Investigations Story

I’ll see you at the house tomorrow night, yeah?”
Adrian licked his lips and forced himself to speak. “I’ll be there.”
“Good. I’ll tell Scotty.” Grinning, Ryan turned and made his way through the crowd before Adrian could say a word.
“Great. Wonderful. Thanks.” Adrian shuffled over to the nearby steps and sat with his shoulders hunched, staring at the ground. He wished he could teleport straight to the tower room at Groome Castle. Lyndon’s silent company would be welcome right now.
Somewhere behind him, Adrian heard a male voice express the opinion that Scotty did indeed give an amazing blow job. A second man laughed. A woman told them both to shut up. Adrian tuned out all three of them and breathed quietly until the knot in his gut eased and the burn of humiliation cooled from his cheeks.
Slipping the strap of his laptop bag onto his shoulder, Adrian pushed to his feet. He had just enough time to eat before his last class of the day. After that, he had a couple of hours free before he was supposed to be at Groome Castle. The theater group had made plans to meet there at one, but Adrian was exempt from that since he was on work study and so could only work a certain number of hours at the haunted house.
Guilt tugged at Adrian’s insides as he strode across the Pit to the dining hall. A great deal of work remained to be done in order to get the Castle ready for its haunted house debut on Friday night. There was no rule saying Adrian couldn’t volunteer his time toward that goal if he wanted. The truth was, being around Greg after yesterday’s debacle had made Adrian feel at once horribly conspicuous and utterly insignificant, and he dreaded feeling that way again.
On the other hand, there’s always the tower. You could go early. Sneak upstairs, quiet your mind for a while. Maybe visit with Lyndon.
That, even more than the fear of Greg’s mocking gray eyes, convinced Adrian to wait. After all, that was the whole reason he’d gone to Ryan in the first place—to drag himself back into the world of the living. He’d become far too set in his solitary ways. He had to fix that, and hiding in the Groome Castle tower with a ghost wouldn’t fix anything. Maybe a frat party would help and maybe it wouldn’t, but it couldn’t hurt.
At least, Adrian hoped not.
Of course it won’t. Just stay away from Scotty and his magical blow jobs.
Adrian snorted. A normal guy would seek out a person who’d expressed an interest in giving him oral sex, not avoid him. Then again, Adrian had never been normal. He’d learned to accept his own idiosyncrasies, for the most part. He saw nothing wrong with holding out for a man who accepted him as he was.
The fact that his mind went straight to a man who’d been dead for over one hundred years strengthened Adrian’s resolve. He would go to this damned party, and he’d have fun if it killed him.
Thus decided, Adrian pushed all thoughts of the next night to the back of his mind, along with those of Greg, Lyndon and men in general. He had plenty of schoolwork to keep his brain occupied. At least physics never made him feel awkward, or sick with dread, or aching with unfulfilled need. Equations for his paper started clicking into place in his head, and he entered the dining hall with a smile on his face.
~ * ~
    Thirty-something hours later, Adrian sat wedged between a giggling sorority girl and the unexpectedly suave Scotty on Sigma Pi Sigma’s stylish brown leather sofa, nursing a whiskey and soda and wondering why he’d ever thought this was a good idea.
    Not that the party was objectionable, exactly, or the company less than engaging. In fact, Adrian had met more people in the past hour and a half than he had in the entire three years he’d been at Chapel Hill, and most of those people had been quite friendly.
    Some more than others , he thought as Scotty slid close enough to press their bodies together . Adrian eased another inch to his left, enough to put some space between them. If he had to move again, he’d end up plastered against the girl sitting next to him, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t be rude to anyone tonight. However, as Sean always told him, he didn’t possess the tact gene. So how was he supposed to extract himself from this situation?
    “So. Adrian.” Scotty twisted his upper body toward Adrian. His arm rested along the back of the sofa behind Adrian in a move a little too casual to be real.