The Ghost of Her

Mikaela’s POV 🌸

I am certainly not looking forward to going to school today. I’m almost 18 years old, and I know I only have over a year left until I am free. Do I know what I want to do with my life? No. Do I know when I will know what to do with my life? Hell no. My parents are Polish immigrants; they came here when I was just a little kid.

My mom, Krystyna—here in the U.S., you would just call her Kris- and my dad, Józef, whom you would just call Joseph. Our surname is Wasilewski, but it’s a bit of a challenge for the locals around here, so my parents changed it to Wilson.

At home, we do speak Polish, but very rarely. My parents usually call me Mika. They use my Polish name only when I’m in trouuubb... oh shitt...

Suddenly I heard a loud screaming noise from downstairs resembling an enormous monster no one would dream of fighting. “Michalina Wasilewska, move your butt downstairs, right now!”

Yeah... I was telling you about those moments when I’m in trouble?! I wonder what it’s about now. Let me check and I’ll be right back!

“Yes, Mom?” I poked my head out of the doorway, peeking downstairs and awaiting another terrifying roar.

“Downstairs, right now!” She screamed, almost making my heart tremble.

Okay, this is it, guys, the end is near. I ran downstairs, envisioning myself going on some kind of life-or-death mission.

“What happened?” I stood between the kitchen island and the doorway, leaving enough space between us in case she smacked me with a kitchen towel or threw a random slipper in my direction. This was the safest spot, giving me just enough time to make my grand escape.

“Why is your teacher calling me, saying you’re almost on the verge of failing math? What did I tell you Michalina? If you have problems, if you struggle with something, just come to me and we will figure something out!” She looked at me very disappointed.

I don’t know about you, but seeing that signature grimace of disappointment on your folks’ faces just hits differently. My stomach twisted into knots.

Would you blame me, though? Anything involving numbers or equations makes me want to find a hole, dig it even deeper, crawl inside, and never come out. I’d rather die than solve another one of these... I pointed a finger at my mouth, opening it wide as if I were about to throw up.

“I know, Mom, I know... I’ll try my best to at least not fail, alright?” I gave her one of my signature cheesy smiles, looking at her apologetically.

From around the corner, my dad appeared, casually reading a newspaper. I know...a newspaper. It’s not like he doesn’t have an iPhone he could use, but somehow, it makes him feel more intelligent and important.

“Listen to your mother, or I’ll have to take your grandma up on her offer and send you to Poland to finish your school year!” my father said firmly, though a playful smile tugged at his lips.

My eyes widened in horror. There was no way I was going to Poland for a year! Don’t get me wrong, I could speak a bit of Polish, but studying over there? That would be insane!

“What? Dad... no! Okay, I promise, I’ll sort myself out!” I blurted, waving my hands frantically. “Anyway, I’m gonna be late for school, sooooo... I better go get ready! Love you guys!”

Behind me, my mum rolled her eyes and started listing off the plans she’d made.

“Okay, but don’t think you’re getting off that easily, young lady. I’ve already spoken to Mrs. Blake, her son Nicholas will be helping you with your homework and prepping you for your next exam. He’ll come with you after school!”

I was halfway up the stairs when she was still talking, but I wasn’t really listening. Under my breath, I was humming Love is a Battlefield by Pat Benatar, drowning out whatever she was saying.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, thanks, Mom!” I called back, before storming into my room like a tornado.

I just had loads and loads of energy that sometimes I didn’t know how to let go of. At school, I run a photography club and I’m a part of the drama club. I know, cringe, but hey, it gives some nice credit and it’s nice to sometimes make a fool of yourself and get applauded for it!

I stood in front of the mirror, eyeing my blonde hair, which could definitely use some extra conditioning after all the dyeing. I scrunched my nose at the flimsy strands, feeling slightly frustrated.

I managed to twist my hair into two messy space buns. For makeup, I went with pink eyeliner as it really suits my small green eyes and makes them pop! A bit of blush on my cheeks and a highlighter on my nose finished the look. I love how the moles and freckles scattered across my nose and cheeks add character.

I pulled on my favorite Gorillaz t-shirt, colorful tights, and a black skirt. To top it off, I threw on my one-thousand-year-old Converse shoes. They’re probably going to fall apart any day now, but hey, we’re not a wasteful bunch!

“Hmmm, okay, this will do,” I mumbled to myself.

I’m not exactly the most attractive person; I don’t look like the popular girls or what you’d call a natural beauty, and I’m fully aware of it. I’m curvy. Since I turned 13, let’s just say my body changed dramatically. On top of that, the contraception pills that were supposed to reduce my monthly “Aunt Flo’s visit” only made things worse. With my mom’s cooking and my increased appetite, let’s just say I wasn’t exactly freezing during the winter.

I grabbed my phone and opened up my bestie’s group chat, “WLW,” aka Weirdos Love Weirdos group chat.

Why is it called that, you may ask? Because even though we are kind of recognizable at school, it’s due to our weirdness! I’m everywhere and anywhere, and I’m not bothered by the occasional bullying in my direction. I know how to stand up for myself..and my friends. My bestie, Kira, is the most gorgeous person I’ve ever set my eyes on. Her parents migrated from Zimbabwe when she was 10. We ended up playing in the same playground and then ended up in the same school, and just never stopped hanging out!

Why is she a weirdo? I’m not sure. People didn’t hang out with her because of her accent. However, now she has gotten rid of it completely, and again is very stunning. If you ask me, I found her accent extremely cute! Somehow the old bunch at school still thinks of her as a 10-year-old. I bet they would change their minds if they only saw her dancing. I’m telling you, it’s a game-changer, even for me, and I’m straight!

Last but not least is Lewis. He is obsessed with medieval times and runs a history club trying to make people attend his D&D sessions. I’ve tried, trust me. I’ve tried to be a part of this, but whenever we’ve tried to play a session, Lewis turns into Lucius the Morbidius and I’m freaking terrified of him to the point that I can’t sleep for the next two days.

How are you guys? On the way to school? I typed quickly.

Nope, we are waiting outside for you, Miks! - Kira. When I read it, my eyes widened and I made a loud squeak.

I’m gonna be there in a sec! I responded and ran downstairs quickly before my mom stopped me.

“Michalina!” I panicked and turned around. “Yes, Mom?” I asked politely, asking myself on repeat what did I do again.

“I’ve made pączki for Lewis and Kira, please give them some, and don’t forget about the plans!” She handed me two bags of freshly baked goods and smiled at me.

“Mom, you’re amazing! Dziękuję!” Dziękuję means ′thank you’ in Polish. I kissed her on the cheek and grabbed two separate bags for Lewis and Kira.

Whatever plans she mentioned just now, I honestly don’t remember, but I’ll let her think I do.

I ran out of the house and saw Lewis and Kira waiting in Lewis’s car—a 20-year-old Toyota Yaris. It was red, and we’d made so many great memories in it: countless adventures, arguments, making up, and, of course, laughs!

I smiled to myself as I looked at them and ran over. I opened the door and jumped into the backseat. “Okay, my lovely people, I’ve got something for you.” I raised my hands, holding bags of pączki. The sweet aroma filled the air, and then...

“No, you didn’t...”

“You’re joking, Mika!”

“I love Mrs. Wilson! I love her, love her!”

They began shouting excitedly, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

After a few minutes of driving towards the school, Lewis asked me, “So, your parents know about you failing math?” He smirked to himself, looking at my reaction in the mirror.

“Well, she did find out, but only because Mrs. Roosevelt snitched on me, that bitc...” I looked outside of the window and continued, “That’s fine. I need to sort myself out, otherwise, they are sending me to Poland for a year to cut the slack.”

“What?!” They both shouted at the same time with shock on their faces. “Michalina Wasil...eskaaa...” Kira tried to imitate my mother’s accent but failed so miserably that we all started to laugh. “You’ve almost nailed it! I know I know, I need to figure something out, but don’t worry about it, I will!

We entered the school and made our way toward biology class, my other ‘favorite’ subject. I could hear a few girls gossiping amongst themselves, excited as the basketball team passed by with Mr. Blake at the front.

He was nearly 6 feet tall, with long black hair that fell in loose, almost curly waves to his shoulders. His eyes were dark brown, almost black, and his pale, muscular build, paired with those dreamy lips, made him quite the sight.

Every girl had a major crush on him. Not only was he handsome, but he was also kind and smart. On top of that, he was about to become our basketball team’s captain once the seniors graduated the next year.

As he passed by with his other male best friends, I smiled. But then I remembered what I was doing and rolled my eyes.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not your typical girl, but when something catches my eye, I’m not going to fight it. However, we could never be friends. I once accidentally knocked Mr. Popular’s tray in the cafeteria while rehearsing a scene for class. He called me a “fucking weirdo” and told me to move. Fair enough, but since then, the tension between us has been... strange. Sometimes, he laughs at my jokes and watches me from a distance, probably because I act like a clown.

🌸🌿🌸🌿🌸

I entered the classroom and sat down, looking for my book. “Oh shit,” I mumbled, but loud enough for Mrs. Harrison to hear.

“Are you okay, Mika?” she asked, turning around while writing the lesson topic on the chalkboard. “Yes, all good, Mrs. Harrison!” I replied, panicking as I realized I had forgotten my book.

There was no way I could ask Lewis and Kira to lend me one, considering they’ve always shared one, claiming it helps them focus. I call it faux! I suspect they have something going on, but I’m waiting for them to tell me. It was obvious from the way Lewis looked at her—sometimes drifting to her body or lips. The dynamics had shifted, but I didn’t mind. Love is love, as long as we stay part of the friend group!

“Are you okay?” I heard a raspy voice behind me. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me until I felt a few fingers tapping my back. I turned around to find Mr. Lasagna...oh yeah, lasagna went all over him that day. I chuckled a bit, remembering the incident, then straightened up and responded with a serious face.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot my biology book, so I won’t be able to read the material.” He stared at me for a few long seconds, what seemed like an eternity—before he replied, “I can share it with you if you want.” He looked at me with a straight face, a few loose strands of hair falling on his cheeks. The corners of his lips lifted slightly.

Oh my gosh, is it just me, or are the freckles on his face seriously adorable? Wait a damn second...what am I even thinking? Mikaela Wilson...sort yourself out...right now!

“Yes, please!” I responded eagerly.

“Okay, let me move my desk then.” He started to move his desk, but I was quicker.

“No need!” I grabbed my chair and moved it next to him, sitting very closely as I looked at the book. “Thank you, you’re a lifesaver!” I gave him a huge smile and waited for him to open the book to the right chapter.

“Have you ever heard about personal space?” he asked seriously, as if he were about to kill me. I laughed, but then realized he wasn’t joking.

“Oh, you’re serious? When do you ever have personal space in basketball? I thought you were used to it. I can go back!” I started to stand up, moving toward my desk. He placed his hand on my thigh, murmuring under his breath, “That’s fine, just stay then.” He quickly pulled his hand away and began searching for the right page. I smiled at him, turning my attention to the chapter, though I could feel his gaze lingering on me.

Maybe I had overdone it with the blush today, and he was probably comparing me to some kind of comedic character in his mind. No one had touched me like that before, so when I tell you I felt butterflies, not just in my stomach, but elsewhere—trust me, it was intense!

I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of nun or anything, but I’ve never really made out with anyone. Sure, I’ve had the occasional kiss during a bottle-kissing game or a quick peck, but nothing more. Somehow, around school, I’ve earned a reputation for being a bit weird, and because of that, no one seems interested in getting romantically involved with me. I know, I know... I’m almost 18, but hey, don’t judge me! It’s not like I’ve chosen this lifestyle; it kind of chose me!

When the bell rang, I stood up and, without thinking, blurted out, “Thanks, Tray-z!” My eyes widened as I realized my mistake, and I immediately felt like I might have peed myself. I thought I’d only said it to myself, but his visibly pissed-off reaction made it clear that I’d messed up.

“I mean, thanks, Nicholas. See you soon!” I bolted out of the classroom. I had two more classes, but thankfully, he was at practice, so I wouldn’t see him until at least tomorrow.

Why do I always make such a fool of myself?

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After school, Lewis and Kira dropped me off 15 minutes from home as they had to rush somewhere, probably one of their secret dates. I was walking home when I turned around and saw Mr. Lasagna leaving the bus and following behind me.

Is he still really pissed off about that comment? Am I in trouble? I thought to myself.

Two minutes, four minutes, six minutes passed, and he was still walking behind me, listening to music through his headphones. It felt like a scene from the TV series YOU. Maybe this was it—he was about to kidnap me. I briefly considered the possibility. Eight minutes, ten minutes, and twelve minutes passed. We were only a few minutes away from my house, and he was still following me.

That’s it! I won’t stand for this! I thought to myself, and then I turned around and walked toward him.

“What the hell are you doing?! I’m sorry I called you Tray-z. It was a huge mistake, but don’t follow me like a freaking stalker. This is sick!” He raised one headphone with a casual smirk, almost like he was about to laugh, but then his expression shifted. His face went serious, and he murmured, “You’re not that special, Wilson.”

I froze. My breath hitched. I gasped so loud, that I was sure he could hear my shock.

When I tell you I gasped... I gasped! What was I supposed to do?

I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Was he serious? Was this what he thought of me?

What was I supposed to do now? I felt this strange mix of confusion and frustration bubbling up, but I couldn’t let him see that. So, I just turned around and shouted, “Whatever!” before I started walking away.

I burst through the door, slamming it behind me. I called out a quick, “Hi!” to my parents, trying to sound normal, but my head was still spinning. I was about to tell them about the freak who had followed me, the awkward confrontation, and how messed up everything felt when the doorbell rang, cutting off my thoughts.

“Oh Mika, it must be Nicholas! He’s here to help you with math. Didn’t you see him when you were walking home?” My mom’s words almost made me pass out here and there. She opened the door and welcomed Nicholas, who extended his hand towards her.

“Oh, Nicholas, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” She ignored his hand, hugged him, and welcomed him in.

“I’m Kris, and my husband Joseph is somewhere in the house. You’ll meet him later. Thank you for helping Michalina with her studies...We need her to make it to senior class next year” Nicholas’s face showed an interesting look when he heard my Polish name.

“Excuse me, ma’am, who?” he asked politely. “Oh, Mika. I apologize; sometimes when I’m angry or upset with my daughter, I call her by her Polish name! Well, come on in. Mika will show you to her room, and I’ll bring you something warm to drink and some pączki!“. She announced excitedly, heading to the kitchen. I stood there, dumbfounded in the corridor.

“I guess you didn’t expect a tutor today?” Nicholas laughed to himself, clearly enjoying my reaction.

I tried to compose myself and get used to the situation of having him in my house. Oh no, I didn’t clean my room. Well, it’s probably the last time he’ll be here anyway, and we’re not friends, so who cares! I’ve tried my best to rationalize the situation that I found myself in.

“Okay, come on in, just excuse the mess.” I opened the door to my room, which had purple and blue walls with posters of pop and rock icons. My bed was huge with a grotesque duvet, and I had a wardrobe and a desk that resembled another wardrobe. There was a small table in the middle of the room where I usually did my studies or doodled.

“We can do it here. Let’s just get it over with,” I muttered, already sinking down to sit on the floor, grabbing a notebook to look busy. Nicholas hesitated for a moment, scanning the room like he wasn’t sure whether to step over the piles of laundry or the random assortment of books on the floor. Finally, he sat down, pulling out the math book, and we got to work.

For the next two hours, we went over problem after problem. His explanations were straightforward enough, but I could feel my brain trying to reject the numbers, the equations. They made no sense. Despite his patience, I could barely keep my focus, my mind wandering to everything except math: the way his eyes shifted over the page, the faint smell of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of old paper.

By the end of it, I was understanding the concepts, but not enough. I could already feel the weight of the next exam pressing down on me.

“Why is this so difficult?!” I shouted, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling. I had glued little stars and moons on it, so when it was dark, they slightly lit up.

“It’s not that hard. You’re getting it slowly. A few more lessons, and you’ll pass that exam, and I won’t need to come here anymore,” he said seriously as if it was a punishment for him to be here with me.

“Okay, stop complaining and come watch stars with me.” I’ve looked at him.

“Watch what?” he asked, confused. “Stars, lasagna...” I laughed and pulled him by his arm forcefully so he would lie down. I saw the anger, then shock, and then surprise on his face, until he laughed and said I was impossible.

It was the first time I heard him laugh. It had a nice ring to it. I could get used to it.

“Why?” I asked, turning my head to the right so I could see him. “You’re always doing something, and when I think I’ve finally figured you out Wilson, you come up with something I just can’t grasp. You’re funny, Mika.” He turned his head to the left and looked me in the eyes.

For some reason, it was a very intimate moment between us, and I could feel my butterflies again, and let me tell you, they were up to no good. “That’s my second name,” I smiled at him just as my mom knocked on the door.

“Mika, I’m coming in!” We immediately sat down by the table, pretending to look into the notebook as she brought some hot tea and pączki to help us relax.

“There you go, guys. Have a rest and some pączki! Nicholas, if you need a lift home, just let me know, and I’ll drop you off, okay?” He smiled at my mom and thanked her for the offer. “Thanks, Mrs. Wilson. I think I might have a lift home today, but I’ll keep it in mind!” She looked at us, smiling to herself whilst closing the door behind her.

″Pączki?″ He attempted to pronounce the word, which made me laugh.

“Pączki,, Poohchki” I repeated, trying to get him to pronounce it again. After a few more failed attempts, we both laughed. I explained, “These are Polish doughnuts, and they come with various fillings like rose, plum, custard, and strawberry jam. I love the strawberry jam ones. Go ahead, try it!” I encouraged him. He picked up one of the pączki and took a bite. His eyes widened in delight, and he took another bite.

“This is amazing! Wow. I might come to tutor you just for these,” he said, looking adorably pleased. Powdered sugar was smeared around his lips, and I chuckled. “What’s so funny?” He asked disoriented trying to not make any more mess with the filling dripping down onto the plate.

Guys, I have no idea what kind of conjured power took over me, but in the next few seconds, you’ll find out that your girl did something completely unexpected.

“You’ve got some sugar... right there,” I said, grabbing a napkin and gently wiping the sugar from the corner of his lips. For a brief moment, I didn’t even realize what I was doing.

We exchanged glances, the kind that lingered just a little too long. Our eyes occasionally darted to each other’s lips, and I could feel the tension building in the air. I hesitated, unsure whether I should be the one to make the first move. But before I could think too much about it, he set the doughnut aside and leaned closer.

My breath caught in my throat, and I swallowed, the saliva that had built up from the anticipation. My lips parted slightly, betraying the nervous excitement running through me. Chemistry buzzed between us, undeniable and electrifying. I felt my face flushing, the warmth spreading from my cheeks to my chest as I glanced between his eyes and his lips, unable to look away.

His face came closer, and my heart raced. He placed a hand gently behind my neck, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. Slowly, his face moved toward mine, and then his lips brushed against mine, soft and tender. I responded instinctively, our kiss deepening, becoming more urgent and passionate as the world around us seemed to vanish.

After a few minutes, which felt like an eternity, we finally pulled away. Blushing, he said, “At least I won’t need to tutor you in kissing.” He laughed, looking for my reaction.

“Be careful, or there might be no more Polish delicacies for you, Mister!” I teased him.

Thank God for my blush blindness, otherwise he would see how red I’ve turned from this kiss.

“I don’t think so,” he replied seriously, his voice low and steady. Suddenly, without warning, he pulled me closer, kissing me more fervently. The unexpectedness of it caught me off guard, but the sensation of being wanted sent a rush of warmth through me. When will I ever get a chance like this again?! I couldn’t help but think. Maybe it was some deal he’d made with his mates, but at that moment, I couldn’t care less.

I moved my hands across his body, slipping them under his shirt, trying to act all confident like I knew exactly what I was doing. Oh boy, how wrong was I? My heart skipped a beat as he responded by sliding his hand under my shirt, sending a jolt through me. I twitched slightly, my breath catching in my throat, and paused in the kiss.

“What, you don’t want to?” he asked, his voice soft but concerned. His brown eyes searched mine, and I could feel his dark hair falling into his face, adding to the intensity of the moment.

I hesitated, my thoughts racing. “It’s just... I’m not what you’re used to,” I admitted, feeling exposed and vulnerable. My voice faltered, but I couldn’t hide the truth.

He sat up, bringing me to almost the same eye level.

“And what am I used to, Mika?” he asked, staring into my eyes.

“Popular girls? Cheerleaders? Hot girls? Girls who wear size 0? Girls, every guy wants?” I blushed as I spoke, feeling embarrassed about my insecurities.

Is this me, intimidated by a handsome guy? I can’t believe this. But hey, you live and learn.

“Mika...” he said softly, holding my face in his large hands.

“You’re hot, and I like you.” He kissed me on the forehead and grabbed his bag. “Give me your phone.” He asked, staring at me.

“What?” I asked, confused. I handed him my phone, and he fiddled with it before tossing it back to me. As he left the room, he called out, “Talk to you later, weirdo!” He said goodbye to my parents and left in one of his friends’ cars, likely heading to a party.

I almost shouted at him for calling me a “weirdo,” but then I noticed what he’d done on my phone. He had added his number and saved himself as ‘Lasagna.’ I was officially dead.

I burst out laughing, still in disbelief at what had just happened. Every time I glanced at the table and saw the nearly finished doughnut, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the kiss we’d shared.

It was amazing. Though I’d been kissed before, this was the closest I’d ever been to being truly intimate with someone. But tomorrow, we’d go back to the high school corridors, exchanging glances from a distance, pretending we didn’t know each other. The contrast felt surreal like two entirely different worlds colliding.

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Shortly after, I went to take a shower, trying to shake off the lingering warmth from the kiss. When I returned to my room, I decided to play some music in the background and lie down on my bed, scrolling aimlessly through social media. That’s when I saw Angelica’s party story, and there he was, Nicholas, sitting off to the side, drink in hand. His expression wasn’t the usual carefree smile I’d come to expect. Instead, he looked pensive, almost distant, as if something was weighing heavily on his mind.

I checked the time and saw that her story was just three minutes old. I had an idea and sent him a message:

″Why aren’t you having fun, Lasagna? Thinking about me?″ I sent it and chuckled to myself, feeling a bit foolish. Almost immediately, my phone buzzed with a reply.

I picked it up and read his message.

″I want to kiss you again.″

My stomach dropped like I’d just stepped off a cliff. The words hit me harder than I expected, and my heart started to race. I couldn’t help but smile, despite the flutter of nerves swirling in my chest.

Guys, my butterflies were in full force today. I couldn’t believe I was letting myself fall for him like this. A guy kisses me, texts me that he wants to kiss me again, and suddenly I’m head over heels?! I had to get a grip. I was smarter than this, wasn’t I?

But, to be honest, if you had a chance like this, wouldn’t you go for it? Sure, I’d been labeled a weirdo, but even weirdos deserve a shot at love, right?

I picked up my phone and texted back, ″You know where to find me.″

A few seconds later, I got his response: ″I’ll pick you up in the morning. Your parents would kill me if I showed up at this time.″

I couldn’t believe it - he was going to pick me up for everyone at school to see?! This was insane!

I stared at the ceiling for a moment before replying.

″Okay, see you in the morning.″I tried to play it cool, but inside, I was dancing and jumping with excitement.

It looked like my summer was going to be incredibly eventful and I cannot wait to take you on this adventure with me!

Then again... What if he was just playing games with me? What if I was some kind of social experiment to him? I guess I was about to find out.