A.N - I know this has been posted and deleted many times. But It's been totally Beta'd now. No mistakes or whatever. So yeah.

Boring background chapter. All characters belong to Meg Cabot. I own nothing.

Chapter dedicated to x-Moondancing Millie-x who is the one who pushed me into posting this today. Go Em!

Chapter 1

It was no big deal, right? I'd been in his house before. What was so scary about his bedroom? Just a few extra steps, that's all it was.

I sighed. Life changing decisions were so not on my agenda for today.

"Come on, Suze." Paul Slater, my boyfriend, said in a rich, persuasive tone. "It's just another room."

"I know." I replied. And I did. It was another room ... That just happened to be my boyfriend's bedroom. But I suppose he was right. What harm could it do if I were just to step inside? "I guess you're right."

"So, you'll come upstairs?" The smile on Paul's face was blinding.

I smiled back at him accompanying it with an accepting nod. I, Susannah Simon, was about to go into Paul Slater's bedroom.


Paul took his my hand and led me upstairs, along the pristine corridor and into his immaculate bedroom.

Here goes ...


We had met over the Summer, at the Pebble Beach Hotel and Golf Resort where I had a job as a babysitter. I had been assigned to look after Paul's younger brother Jack, which was how I met Paul himself.

We went out on a few dates and I even joined the Slater family at The Grill for Jack's eighth birthday. The Grill was the best restaurant in all of Carmel. As well as being the most expensive. The cheapest thing on the menu cost $15 and that was the house salad. The Grill was not a place to take an eight-year-old. Especially on his birthday.

You see, Jack was this total baby who never left the hotel room, instead preferring to stay inside and watch cartoons. Until I had finally gotten tired of staying inside all day, as I had to as his babysitter, and dragged him outside with me. It was as we ran into the, recently deceased, gardener Jorge that I figured out why Jack was so opposed to going outside.

"I see dead people." He had told me. Seriously, just like that kid from The Sixth Sense.

I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes, as well as laugh. I explained to him that he was a mediator and that Ghost's didn't come up to him to kill him as he had thought, but for help. So that they could move on. To whatever was waiting for them on the other side. Heaven, hell, next life. Whatever. I thought it would be best not to tell him how sometimes ghosts may actually want to kill you. God knows enough had attempted to kill me.

I am a mediator as well. Which was why I was so calm after Jack had told me about his gift. Only I never behaved in the way Jack did. I just knew I was different. My Dad had explained all the details to me after he died when I was six.

Anyway, after I had explained everything to Jack, he had been a changed boy. He actually wanted to go outside, which I was all far, and I even taught him how to swim. I couldn't help but be proud of my accomplishment. It was as Jack was showing off his new found ability to swim that Paul had asked me to join them at The Grill, as a kind of Thank-you-for-changing-my-brother-for-the-better kind of thing. As there was no one else I was even remotely interested in, I agreed. And Why shouldn't I? Paul was hot. We had been inseparable ever since.

At the end of the Slater's stay at the Hotel, Paul had decided to move in with his Grandpa, who lived nearby wanting a place on the beach to retire to, to stay closer to me. I was fully aware of what that meant to Paul. He was giving up his whole life - school, friends and even his mom and dad - just to continue our week-lomg relationship. But it was either that or him going back to Seattle and running the risk of us never seeing each other again.

Jack, wanting to remain close to his brother, moved in as well. Which kind of surprised me, considering I hadn't thought of them to be that close.

There was one thing I couldn't figure out about the Slater brothers though, and that was whether or not Paul shared the same gift as Jack and I. It didn't appear to be true, and Paul had to be at least the tiniest bit acceptant of the fact that 'We Are Not Alone', otherwise he would have run scared when Jack told him, as I'm positive he had done at least once, about his ability.

A few years after my dad died, my mom met Andy Ackerman when he had come to New York on business. They fell in love, got married and decided that it should be me and my mom who moved, seeing as Andy had three sons and that it was just easier.

I had left behind my best friend Gina, and started a new life in Carmel, California with my new step-dad and brothers - Sleepy, Dopey and Doc. Or Jake, Brad and David, as their known by everyone else. Which was why I knew how much Paul was giving up. It's not nice moving to a whole new state. Even if he wasn't moving as far as I did.

The house mom and Andy had bought for us was beautiful, I won't deny it. Beautiful, but old. It was a converted boarding house circa 1850. This was only a slight problem for me. The problem being, I really hate old buildings. The older a building, the more likely they were to have a ghost or two hanging around. Surprisingly, there hadn't been one ghost. Not one. For which I had been grateful. Very much so.


"Here we go, Suze." Paul announced, bringing my attention back towards him. "Home, Sweet Home."

I looked around the bedroom taking in the top-of-the-line laptop on top of a glass desk, his bed before my eyes stopped on something to my left.

"Wow." I muttered under my breath so Paul wouldn't hear me.

But the exclamation wasn't for Paul's room, which was actually quite plain and boring, it was for the figure standing by the window.

He was tall, tanned and, by the looks of things, had a majorly toned stomach. He looked to be about twenty with dark hair that fell into his dark eyes. The way he was dressed was considerably old-fashioned what with the billowing white top (which provided a perfect view of his abs), black trousers and spurs. To put it simply, this guy's hotness rivalled Paul's.

He was also glowing, this figure. Which meant that he was a ghost. A ghost with the most amazing voice as I found out a moment later when he actually spoke.

"Oh, pardon me for interrupting."

There was an underlying tinge of Spaniard in his voice. This hottie was, at least the tiniest bit, latino.

'No!' I had desperately wanted to scream. Wanting him to stay close, so that I could get to know him more. 'Stay!'

But in the next second, he had gone. And I couldn't help but feel disappointed.