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Dear diary,

Yesterday was another disappointment. Three times last night I tried to use my power, and all three times I was rejected. The last one was the worst. He didn't even run. He just dropped to the floor and started screaming. I could have touched him, or called out to him, but I didn't have the heart for it. I just sat on the edge of the screen for a minute, and then left.

Why do I keep doing this to people? I feel so stupid—

Shelly slammed her notebook shut. Someone was looking over her shoulder. She would have noticed earlier if she hadn't been so distracted.

"Hey," Rodney said. He was chewing on a toothpick, a habit which annoyed Shelly to no end. "Whatcha writin'?"

"It's private."

"'S'cool." He walked around the bench and sat next to her. She gritted her teeth and tried not to look like she was seething as much as she was. "You're new here, right?"

"...I've been here two months."

"I mean, you weren't a freshman here, y'know?"

"Yeah. Whatever. Do you mind? I want to be alone."

"You sure?"

Shelly didn't know how to respond to that. It wasn't the sort of platitude that required confirmation in the first place. And yet, he sounded... sincere?

"Do what you want, I guess." She pulled her backpack onto her lap and replaced her diary with her math textbook.

"Sorry. I'm not trying to annoy you or anything."

"Yeah."

"It's just... can I ask you something?"

She looked up. "What?"

"Are you a ghost?"

She scoffed. "You know what?"

"No, no, wait—"

"Ugh!" In her rush to stand up, her bag fell to the ground, scattering pens and pencils across the grass. The diary slid into a small patch of mud near her feet. "I wish you would—"

"—Wait, hold on—"

"—All just leave me alone!—"

"—That came out wrong! That came out wrong!" Rodney bent down and picked up the diary a split second before Shelly realized it had fallen as well. She looked up to see him clasping it hard with one hand while trying to buff out the mud with the sleeve of his denim jacket.

She stood, throwing the rest of her things in her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "Give it back."

"I wasn't trying to bully you, honest!"

"Give. It. Back."

"I wanted to ask for your help!"

Shelly glared at him.

"...Can I explain? Please?"

"Explain what?"

"I think... if you are... y'know... you can help me with something."

"Uh huh. Let me guess. You want me to 'haunt' someone?"

"God— look, I'm sorry, okay? I know that was an asshole thing to say."

"It was, yeah."

"But you have powers, right?" He rushed to get the words out before Shelly dismissed him again. "Like, you can... do stuff!"

Shelly looked straight into his eyes. "Ghosts aren't real."

"Well, wha' would you call it then?"

Rodney noticed a change in her expression. Her features softened. No longer glaring, just... surprised, albeit still slightly annoyed.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"...Do you want me to?" There was that sincerity again. She huffed, shoulders sagging, and held out her hand with her palm facing upward.

Rodney sheepishly handed the diary back. "Okay, I'm sorry—"

"Sit."

"Oh."

They settled back onto the bench. Rodney rubbed his elbow nervously as Shelly paged through her diary. He'd lost track of his toothpick.

"I don't know what to call it. Or where I got it from." She paused. "I'm not a ghost."

"Sorry."

"It's okay." She smiled a little, despite herself. "There was a time when I tried to figure out how it worked, but... eventually I just gave up."

She hesitated a bit, but then handed the diary back to Rodney. He was surprised to find a neatly drawn table of figures, with a small picture of a television at the top and arrows pointing from different parts of it down to the table's columns.

"I can project myself onto electronics. Or move through them. TVs are easiest, but otherwise there's not really a lot of consistency to it. Sometimes a device that works one day won't work the next. And vice versa." Shelly shrugged.

"Huh." Rodney lifted the diary up for better light. The clouds were beginning to block the sunlight over the school. "This is really cool."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, it's like, the scientific method and stuff."

"I spent two months visiting an electronics store every night, trying to figure out what the pattern was. Couldn't find it."

"Still. You said an electronics store? Was it that one up in Wisconsin?"

"Yeah..."

"Yeah, I read about that on Twitter."

She sighed. "It was a pain trying to get rid of those security tapes. At least most people thought it was fake." She turned to him. "How did you figure out it was me, anyway?"

"Oh! Yeah, that's what I wanted to talk to you about! My little brother saw you!"

"Shit!" Rodney jumped, and Shelly clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm so sorry!"

"No, it's okay!"

"It's not!" She shook her head. "I'm sorry! I don't know why I keep trying, I'm so stupid—"

"Hey, hey!" Rodney grabbed her by the shoulders. "He's fine. Trust me."

She stared at him. He was telling the truth, she realized. She felt the wave of anxiety in her head falling back into the void.

"...Okay."

Rodney put a hand through his hair. "He's been through worse. A lot worse. He's a tough kid."

"Oh."

"I mean, I did wonder why you chose our house, but that's not what I—"

Shelly broke in. "It's like... when I'm in that space between devices, I can... feel other people. The electricity in their brains. I mean, I feel it all the time. Like right now. But it's stronger there. And... I feel a pull towards certain people. Like an obsession." She pulled her legs up onto the bench, wrapping her arms around them and resting her head on her knees. Her voice was muffled. "I thought I was supposed to help them. Somehow. But it always makes them feel... worse."

There was a pause.

"...Have you ever heard of this movie called The Ring—"

"Yes, obviously I have put two and two together, Einstein," she snapped.

"Sorry, it's just—"

"I only ever get reminded of it every time I look in a mirror."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." She leaned back and let her legs fall back to the ground again. "I'm sorry. I'm being defensive."

"I don't actually think you look like a ghost. I wasn't thinking when I said that."

"It just gets old really fast."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Like, I am not the only albino person to ever exist, people!" She shook her fist at an imaginary crowd. "And the girl in The Ring didn't wear camo t-shirts and skinny jeans!"

Rodney laughed. Shelly did as well.

"Did you actually watch it?"

"Yeah, well, technically I was forced to."

"Huh?

"Kids are mean like that."

"...Oh."

"Joke's on them, I loved it. I've seen it, like, at least a dozen times." She laughed again. "I love horror. I'm such a cliche."

"Is that why you started doing it yourself? The TV thing?"

"Mmh, not really." She sat up. "Like I said, it's more like an obsession. I can't make you feel it the way I feel it. It's like... you know those old Looney Tunes type shows, where the characters started floating whenever they smelled a pie or something?"

"It's like smelling pie?"

"No, that's just... Nevermind. I don't know." Shelly shook her head. "It's just... I feel this need to help people, and I can never completely ignore it. I don't know if that makes me a superhero or a crazy person." She sighed. "Anyway, I had my powers before that happened. I would've figured it on my own with or without that movie."

"...And that's what made you try and find my brother?"

Shelly looked away. "He's... um... not doing as well as you think he is."