with love, always, michael clifford

casper the not so friendly ghost.

( Asteria Clifford,

June 10th— 9:23 AM )

Once a year in my household, my family were all at home.

No one had school, no one had work, nothing.

That day just so happened to be today– and I had no idea why. Everyone was getting ready for something and I was a bit confused because the calendar downstairs didn't say anything.

And I relied on that calendar.

"Luke, you can't wear that! I'm wearing that!" Ashton shouted from downstairs.

"Oh boo hoo, Ashton!" Luke shouted from upstairs.

I sighed deeply as I grabbed my remote and turned up the volume on my TV to tune out the petty arguing happening. I had been watching Outer Banks all week, dreaming of a JJ Maybank lover.

"Rudy Pankow," I began. "Our age gap is so little. One chance, please?"

"Who's Rudy Pankow?"

I jumped from the sudden voice and looked at my door. Apollo stood there with a tux on and his hair combed into a spike. "Jesus,"

"No. but close," He humored. "Daddy wants to know if you're almost ready."

"For what?" I asked, sitting up in my blankets.

Apollo looked confused. "Did you forget?"

"Forget what?" I was confused, too.

"Daddy and uncles ceremony is today, Sissy." He said. "Didn't Daddy tell you?"

My dad came up from behind Apollo and looked at me. "You forgot?" He asked. "Wasn't it on the calendar?"

I jumped up. "No!?" I cried, looking in my closet instantly. "When do we have to leave?"

"10." My dad said, "Be ready by 10, please. I'm sorry I forgot to remind you." He went to turn around and leave, but turned back around. "Your favorite person is going to be there!"

"My favorite person?" I narrowed my eyes.

"Your best friend! Casper Faucheaux."

Casper Faucheaux. 17 year old asshole whose parents work with mine since we were 10 years old. The green eyed ghost man. I have hated the asshole since we were 10 when he mentioned my star pins were stupid and when I called him Casper the ghost.

Little me declared he was Satan.

"Are you serious?" I slumped. "That cocky asshole is going to be there?"

"Language." My dad warned. "And yes. That cocky asshole's dad is one of my good friends. Please try and be as nice as you can."

It was a known thing that we didn't like each other when we were 13 and he called my star dress stupid and that I wasn't actually the goddess of stars. To which I replied, "Obviously. You're not as friendly as Casper the friendly ghost. What happened?" and he pulled my hair.

"Whatever." I mumbled.

The only time I had ever considered liking Casper is when he was 16 and I was 15 and getting hitted on by Jason Ruford, who happened to be the son of a very known asshole of a doctor. He had begged me to go home with him, and when I said no, he shouted at me— then, Casper punched him in the eye and left a gnarly scar.

He respected women. And I respected him for it.

But no way in hell was I going to tell him that.