This is it. This is the life I'd always dreamed of having with Jesse .Jesse training to be a doctor, me going to college, us living together in his apartment. Just perfect.

Jesse is always the perfect gentleman, I mean; it feels as if he's already my husband. He's always so caring and wonderful. He tells me that he loves me all the time. The guy can't make a wrong move, except that time we were playing COD and he stepped out into the open. Such incredible graphics, I must say.

Paul on the other hand seems determined to make the wrong moves. He pushed me into a pool for crying out loud! I got a terrible cold, as it wasn't the warmest of ghost-hutting nights (the fact that Jesse looked after me almost made me forgive him). He said that he wanted to see what I Iooked like in wet clothes (Jesse almost beat him up for making me sick and being a psycho).

Did I tell you about the time he came over to the apartment to tell Jesse that I'd kissed him? Jesse didn't believe him until I told him it was true. Paul was exaggerating though. It was only the kiss of life, which he turned into a kiss. 'You can't blame a guy for trying' were his last words before Jesse's fist landed in his face.

Saying that everything is perfect right now would only jinx it. This place is like a ghost town –excuse me- ghost free town at the moment. I haven't seen a ghost for ages, like, six months. I also haven't seen Paul in a while either. Hurrah!

Father D says that we should use this time to relax and regain; after all, we've mediated all the ghosts in the area. I hope. I bet they're just plotting and waiting until the worst possible moment to pop out and say: "Boo! Did you miss me?" I just know it. Like perhaps at my wedding or something.

"Querida?" Jesse yells, stepping into the apartment. I always get home before Jesse, even though we go to the same college. I think it's because his course requires a lot more hard work. And speaking of hard work, you should've seen the size of Jesse's folder today. It was literally going to break. I'll buy him a new one. We are always buying each other 'gifts'. You know the kind where they benefit the giver more than the receiver?

"In here!" I shout form the office. I have also been working hard, trying to write another news story for Ceecee's paper. I usually get the news first because, well, I am the news (remember the head of the statue a few years back?), and so lately, it has been hard work.

Jesse steps into the room and gives me a hug. I kiss him, my arms sliding comfortably around his neck and his round my waist. I never actually realise how much I missed Jesse until this moment. How did I ever survive so long without him? I deepen the kiss, and then he pulls away. Damn. That's one thing that's not perfect. Jesse still refuses to have sex with me. He says that we must wait until we're married, then it will be much more special. He even bought me new pyjamas, which actually cover me from head to toe, so that he isn't tempted to ravish me during the night or something. Sweet? Nah, despite my various excuses for not wearing pyjamas, he always buys me more.

"Hey, Jesse."

"Hello, Susannah." Crap. He called me Susannah. Was I using my seductive voice again? I never notice any more because it just doesn't seem to work on Jesse.

"How was your day?" I asked, trying to sound normal. I probably sounded odd. Oh, well, Jesse should be used to it by now.

"Good, I learnt a lot today. How was yours?" Jesse said, smiling. After he'd gotten used to being alive, there was rarely a dull moment with him.

"It was alright. I still haven't managed to finish my article."

"Would you like me to help you?"

"It's fine, besides, you have plenty of work to do."

"Sir thought I could handle it, given how keen I am to work."

"I was actually talking about dinner."

"Why? What are we having today?" We always make dinner together. I pick the recipe, and Jesse chops up all the food for me to put into various pots on our electric hob. It's actually quite fun, and we once had a food fight. But once we had scrubbed the last red stain off the kitchen floor, the lesson was well learnt.

"Es una sorpresa,"I said. For those of you unable to speak Spanish, I'll translate. It means: 'it's a surprise'. I've been picking it up from Jesse and didn't really notice until we were at my parent's house, having a conversation in Spanish.

"Dime, por favor," Jesse says, which means: 'tell me, please'.

"Lo siento, no puedo,"I reply, which translates as 'I'm sorry, I can't'.

"Pero, Querida…" He stars, which is: 'but sweetheart…'

"Can we speak in English now?" All this translating is taking too long.

"Of course. What's for dinner?"

"I'm not telling you, plus you have a lot of work to do. So, I don't want to see you anywhere near the kitchen," I demanded, walking away.

Jesse reluctantly sat down and put his folder on the desk with a 'thump'. As I looked back, he gave me his best puppy dog look, to which, I raised my eyebrows (I could never raise just one) and flounced away. If he wasn't going to succumb to my charms, then I certainly wasn't to his. I sighed, opening the thick recipe book to the page I had marked earlier. Spaghetti bolognaise with cheese and garlic bread. Italian. We stopped having Spanish food because Jesse always wanted to cook it by himself. I turned towards the fridge to gather my ingredients and jumped. A ghost? In Carmel? Somebody died? At last!