Erin Beckett wasn't scared of most things. She loved roller coasters, and she was the designated bug killer at home—even with three older brothers. When the offense of the other team came speeding toward her in the goal, she flexed her gloved hands and was ready for anything. All in all, Erin considered herself to be very brave.
But she did not mess around with ghosts. The "Great Beyond" was none of her business.
The only comforting thing about losing her best friend that spring was the thought that she was safely on the other side. Probably doing heavenly soccer drills, knowing Alana. The idea that she could be stuck in this dimension, alone? That was scarier than any legend her new teammates could drag her into.
Still, she followed them up the fire escape of the Weston Center. It was tradition to pay respects to the ghosts that tread the creaky floors of the gymnasium turned dance facility on the October full moon. Erin couldn't fight decades of history, but she refused to let her teammates know she was scared. They were undefeated because of her goalkeeping, unheard of for a freshman. She was the Great Brick Wall. She couldn't let them see the cracks.
A midfielder shouldered the door open and the team spilled into the echoey room. They dispersed, chatting and giggling. Erin shivered as she closed the door behind her.
"Guys? We're not alone," Captain Riley called out.
Erin just about jumped out of her skin.
"The dance department is here, too."
Oh. Right.
Erin could hear steps getting closer. Maybe Riley was coming over to suggest that they should leave, making the captainly decision to move this ritual to the safety of her apartment.
Erin pulled out her phone flashlight, expecting Riley's blunt bob. Instead, she was met with—
"Funny seeing you here," her roommate squeaked. Faith Perkins's hazel eyes were wide and unblinking.
It's wasn't that Erin didn't like Faith. She actually liked her best out of all the girls in their quad dorm. — though this wasn't a high bar to clear. Faith was just a little . . . awkward?
Erin studied her in the harsh blue shine of her flashlight. Her hair was slicked back in a bun that looked more like a helmet. She wore a leotard, which made this the first time Erin hadn't seen her in a T-shirt three sizes too big from her parents' research in the Galapagos..
She cleared her throat. "I didn't know you danced."
"You never asked," Faith shrugged. She didn't say it with any malice, but it spread a layer of guilt on top of Erin's terror. She really didn't know anything about her third roommate. She spent so much time annoyed at the other two or scurrying out of the dorm for practice that she never had time to talk to her.
Or maybe she did have the time and was just trying to make herself feel better about being a bad roommate.
"So, are you guys doing some bonding ritual, too?" Erin asked.
"Yeah. The fall ballet is Giselle, and she becomes a ghost. Someone heard a rumor—Maybe this soccer tradition wasn't all that secret after all—that you guys sneak in here every year to do a seance—Why did she have to say ‘séance''?—and they wanted to join the party."
"Trust me, you can take my spot at the party any time," Erin tried to joke.
"There's no reason to be scared of the dark," Faith said.
That was one thing Erin definitively liked about her roommate. She'd gathered that since Faith was raised by scientists without any other kids around, she did not mince words,. When the guys across the hall were blasting music at 2am, Faith knocked on the door and asked why they were "so obnoxious."
"No, it's more the, uh, seance part," Erin clarified, "I'm fine with the dark. It's just them making us commune with a guy who supposedly got his head knocked off with a basketball. They're convinced he's why they converted the building from a gymnasium to a—"
"My dance friends said our ghost grand jete-d too high and landed straight in the ghostly dimension," Faith interrupted. "There's lots of lore."
"That does not make me feel better."
"Why?"
"Why would it?!"
"Yo, Wall, get over here!" Captain Riley called from across the room.
Erin put down her phone, it would be easier to sneak back down the fire escape without her flashlight on.
"What did she call you?" Faith asked, unphased by the sudden darkness.
"The Wall. It's a soccer thing. I don't let the other team get to me."
"But ghosts get to you." The window behind Faith gave the illusion that the moon was sitting gently on her shoulder, ever in control.
"I'm not scared of ghosts," Erin said, more aggressively than the statement deserved.
"But you said you didn't like the idea of trying to talk to—"
"I just don't think it's a good idea to go poking around in the other side's business. She's gone, let her rest."
Erin felt a hot flush creeping up her neck. It was a good thing she turned off the flashlight.
"I thought you said it was a he."
"What?"
"The basketball player ghost."
"That's what I said."
"No, it's—"
"I need to go."
Erin started shuffling towards her teammates, the hardwood floor crying out with every step.
Faith caught the crook of Erin's elbow. "Who died?"
Erin scoffed. "What?"
"Who died that you actually don't want to think about? It's not the basketball guy." Blunt, honest Faith, who could see in the dark and right through her.
It's not that Erin didn't want to think about Alana. It's that she was always thinking about her.
To her, grief was like the guys across the hall playing music. The thought was always there, the volume was just louder at some times than others.
And who was there to mess with the volume then, and who was messing with it now? Faith Perkins.
"My old teammate. Car accident."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"You never asked," Erin echoed from moments earlier.
Faith let go of her elbow and said, "Your team doesn't know."
"No. And I don't want them to."
"Okay."
"And I don't want to talk about it." Maybe telling Faith didn't count because she didn't depend on Erin to win. It wouldn't matter if she thought Erin was weak because in their dorm, Erin wasn't The Wall.
"Right now? Or ever?" Faith's voice was quiet.
"Right now," Erin replied. She couldn't tell if it was true or not. She peeled off to join her team before she could think too hard about why Faith even cared.
Alana would have told her to assume good intentions. She was always first in the "good game" handshake line, meaning every high five, even to the girls who fouled her or sneered when she scored. But she probably assumed the best of the car skidding towards her six months ago, so Erin wasn't in the market for good intentions.
But Alana would have liked Faith.
Erin found her teammates, who had arranged themselves in a circle. Riley held out a Ouija board, her beaming face hollowed out by flickering candles.
"Our fearless Wall, finally! Will you do the honors?"
Erin looked over her shoulder, trying to make out Faith amidst the dancers across the room. She couldn't find her.
The strangest part of all? Alana loved ghost stories. She told them as she braided Erin's hair for tournaments. She'd try to spook her on the bus back from away games, blue moon hanging overhead.
She gave horror movie recommendations as she practiced shots on goal, Erin diving to block them. The skills from those two-person practices sealed their state championship win and her scholarship. Alana was the only reason Erin was any good at soccer.
And now, she was the reason The Wall was quietly crumbling.
"Yeah, sure. Gimme the board."