Disclaimer: (Is that the word? I can't remember. Oh, well) I do not own the mediator series, Meg Cabot (or Jenny Carroll) does.

Summary: Set right after Haunted. Suze admits to Paul that she does like him but refuses to play tonsil hockey because she also loves Jesse. What's a girl to do??? Help the new ghost , Josie, get to her next life.

A/N: HELLO EVERYONE!!! It's me terrors!! This is my first fanfic and my head was somewhere else when I wrote this chapter, so forgive if it sucks!! It'll get better (I hope)!

Chapter one: Be good to me.

I'm in heaven. Jesse is kissing. Jesse is kissing me. And it's not just a friendly kiss on the cheek. No, no, no. There's some pretty wild tongue action too. Ok, maybe there's no tongue, Jesse is too much of a gentleman for that. But his hands are on the small of my back, way close to my butt. And, man, is Jesse a good kisser. But (and there's always a but) this thought kept coming into my head. It's very a disturbing thought, and I would do anything to not think it right now, with Jesse attached to me by our lips and all.

Paul's a better kisser.

Disturbing, right? It's not even true! Paul sucks at kissing. I definitely do not think Paul is a good kisser. Nope, not Paul with his blue eyes and rock star smile or his lips that made it so easy for me kiss him back.........

Suze! Snap out of it! We're talking about Paul Slater, spawn of the devil. Even his grandfather thinks he's evil...

Why'd Jesse pull away? Oh, to stare into my eyes. Not as good as kissing, but I can live with it. Or so I thought. I can't look at Jesse. Not after thinking about Paul while we were kissing. God, I feel like such a bitch. Jesse kissed me, and here I am wanting more, wanting Paul.

"Querida, what's wrong?" Oh man, how do I answer that? Should I lie? No. I'll just alter the truth a little. Just a little.

"Jesse, you're so good to me. And I don't deserve it. You were always there, to help me and to save me from those nasty, evil ghost. I know I'm not that good, but it's not like I chose to be -" he cut me off.

"Susannah," he sounded kind of mad. Why? Does he know I'm lying? Worst, does he know I was thinking about Paul? "What are you talking about?" Oh, he just doesn't understand me.

"Mediating, Jesse. I was two years old when I saw my first ghost, and I didn't know what I got myself into when I started helping them. I didn't know you then, didn't know what you would do to me." Jesse looked a bit surprised to hear that. "Querida, have I hurt you!?" I shook my head. "Of course not! Jesse, I was talking about how I fell for you. Jesse I love you." Whoa, did I just say that? I just told Jesse that I loved him. He looks kind of surprised, surprised but happy. "You've just been so good to me." Wow, I'm good. I just didn't want Jesse to get mad at me, but now he's kissing me again. This time with tongues.

We stayed like that for a bit. Kissing, and sometimes talking. And I hardly thought about Rosemary's baby (aka Paul). After a while Jesse told me that I should go back. "Ceecee will be looking for you." And he disappeared. Poof! Well not "Poof", he just kind of faded away. I stayed there staring at the foot of the hill, starring at Jesse's grave. And I realized something, Jesse didn't say "I love you" back.

When I got back to the booth Ceecee was there, smiling like crazy. When I sat down beside her she asked, "So is Jesse a good kisser?" The look I gave her just then was a mix of shock, horror and fear. Then I remembered our conversation from earlier.

"Ceecee, I thought that you thought that Jesse was a ghost. How would I know if a ghost is a good kisser or not, you can't kiss a ghost." But Ceecee just shook her head.

"Suze, I saw you in the cemetery talking to someone I couldn't see. I heard you say 'Jesse' a few times then make out with the air. So either Jesse's a ghost, or you're crazy. Which one is it?" No wonder she works for the newspaper. She'll make an awesome journalist one day. (a/n is it journalist that work for the paper? I forget)

"I was there to pay respect to a friend of mine who died recently, Cee. His name was Hector but I called him Jesse. He's buried there." And I'll make a good lawyer (a/n is that how you spell it?), never telling the truth but never lying either.

But, as always, Ceecee is too cleaver for me. "Oh, you mean Hector De Silva who died in 1850? That's over 150 years ago, Simon, how could you know him, unless he's a ghost?"

So I told her, what would you have done? She was so happy that she was right and not crazy. She said it explain a lot about me. Am I really that weird? She swore she wouldn't tell anyone but she'll end up telling Adam. I told her about everything. Well, almost. I didn't tell her that Paul Slater is a shifter like me. Or that that Paul kissed me. And that I liked it.

(A/N so there it is. The first chapter. Sorry it's so short. But hey, what can you do?)