Chapter 2 - The Ghost next door

Maya didn't sleep much that night.

She lay in bed with the ceiling fan whirring above her, its rhythm steady and hypnotic, but her thoughts refused to settle. Every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was Liam Carter's face—older, more weathered, but still painfully familiar. The tilt of his jaw, the way he stood like he was half ready to run. And those eyes—like storm clouds threatening to break.

She'd seen ghosts before—memories haunting the edges of her thoughts when she passed their old hangout spots or heard songs they used to scream-sing from his beat-up truck. But last night wasn't a ghost. It was real.

He was real.

Back in Maplewood.

Across the street.

By morning, her stomach was in knots.

Maya trudged downstairs, barely acknowledging her mom's chirpy good morning. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat in silence, staring into the milk like it held the answers.

Her mom sipped her coffee and glanced over the top of the newspaper. "You okay, kiddo?"

"I didn't sleep much," Maya muttered.

"Still getting re-adjusted?"

"Something like that."

Her mom paused, then set the paper down. "You know who moved back in across the street, right?"

Maya froze, her spoon halfway to her mouth. "Yeah," she said, trying to sound casual. "Saw him last night."

Her mom nodded, watching her closely. "I was surprised too. His parents sold that house years ago. Apparently, he bought it back himself."

Maya blinked. "Seriously?"

"Mm-hmm. Moved in last week, I think. Quiet so far. Keeps to himself."

That sounded like Liam.

"I guess people change," her mom added, not unkindly. "Maybe he's trying to start fresh."

Maya didn't respond. She wasn't sure what to say. The boy who'd left without a word didn't deserve a "fresh start" in her book—not without explaining where he'd been all this time.

After breakfast, she wandered into the front yard, pretending to water the gardenias, though they didn't really need it. She was stalling. Watching.

His house looked the same from the outside: cream siding, navy shutters, the porch swing they'd spent hours on still hanging crooked. The lawn was trimmed. A new truck sat in the driveway, cleaner than anything Liam had ever driven.

Then the door opened.

Maya's breath caught.

Liam stepped onto the porch, a duffel slung over his shoulder, sunglasses perched in his hair. He paused when he saw her. For a second, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, Liam descended the porch steps and crossed the street.

She didn't move. Couldn't.

"Hey," he said, stopping just short of the garden.

Maya met his gaze. "Hey."

Liam shoved his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels like he used to when he was nervous. "Didn't expect to see you out here."

"Didn't expect to see you at all."

That landed heavier than she intended, but she didn't take it back. She wasn't ready to make it easy for him.

Liam nodded, his jaw tightening. "Fair enough."

An awkward silence stretched between them. The birds chirped like nothing was wrong.

"You look different," Maya said finally. She wasn't sure if it was meant to be a compliment or just an observation.

"You look exactly the same," Liam replied, but there was a softness in his voice that made it feel like more.

Another pause.

"So," she said, folding her arms, "you're back. After four years. No text. No call. Just—boom. Ghost Liam reappears."

"I deserve that," he said quietly. "I just… didn't think you'd want to hear from me."

"I didn't," she snapped. "Not after you disappeared. But you don't get to make that choice for me."

"I know," he said, his voice rough. "I messed up. I know that."

Maya looked away, focusing on a weed poking through the mulch like it mattered. "Why did you leave, Liam? What happened?"

He hesitated. "That's a long story."

"I've got time."

But Liam shook his head. "Not now. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For leaving. For not reaching out. For… all of it."

She met his eyes again. "You think sorry covers four years of silence?"

"No," he said. "But it's a start."

He took a step back, sensing the edge she still stood on. "I'll let you get back to… watering the already-watered flowers."

Maya didn't smile.

Liam gave a faint nod and turned to leave. "I'm around if you ever want to talk. Or yell. I can take it."

She watched him cross the street, climb his porch steps, and disappear back into the house. The door clicked shut behind him like the final note in a song she hadn't asked to hear again.

Later that afternoon, Maya found herself walking to the park.

It wasn't planned. Her feet just took her there, like some old instinct still lived in her muscles.

The park was almost empty—just a couple of kids on the swings and an elderly man feeding pigeons. She settled onto the far bench, the one shaded by the big maple tree. The same one she and Liam used to sit on, sharing soda cans and secrets.

She pulled out her journal and tried to write. Something, anything. But the words wouldn't come. Her mind was too full.

How do you put closure into sentences? How do you write about someone who left a hole in your life, then came back like they never did?

She didn't know how long she sat there, but eventually a voice pulled her back.

"Maya?"

She looked up.

Of course.

Liam stood there again, hands in his pockets, eyes unreadable.

"You following me now?" she asked, not quite teasing.

"I didn't know you'd be here."

She didn't respond. Just watched him.

He sat on the other end of the bench, not too close. Respectful distance. She appreciated that.

"I used to come here a lot after we moved," he said, surprising her. "In other towns. Parks felt the same. Safe. Quiet."

"You moved around a lot?" she asked, before she could stop herself.

He nodded. "Every few months. After my dad got sick… things got complicated."

Maya's eyes flickered. "I didn't know he was sick."

"I didn't tell anyone." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "He passed a year ago."

Maya's heart softened, despite everything. "I'm sorry."

Liam nodded, jaw clenched. "It messed me up more than I wanted to admit. I ran away because I didn't know how to stay. And once I was gone, it just got harder to come back."

Maya stared at her hands. "You should've told me."

"I know," he whispered. "You were the one person I should've told."

They sat in silence again, the breeze lifting the edge of her hair. It was a different silence now—not awkward, but heavy with the weight of things unsaid.

"I didn't hate you," Maya said, barely audible.

Liam turned to her. "I thought you did."

"I wanted to. For a long time. But I couldn't. I just… missed you."

He swallowed hard. "I missed you too."

Maya looked at him then, really looked. There was hurt in his eyes. Regret. But also something else. Something honest.

Maybe people could change.

Or maybe they just come back to finish what they started.

"I'm not saying everything's okay," she said. "But I'm listening now. That's all I can promise."

Liam nodded, relief flickering in his expression. "That's more than I hoped for."