This time, Jamie didn’t even try speaking to Laurel. He had tried, over and over again, during the day with Jenna, desperate to make any noise. Eventually, though, high school physics had caught up with him, and he had remembered that sounds were vibrations in the air, and he was now a ghost. He couldn’t affect anything, not even something as simple as the air.
That did not mean that nothing could affect him. He heard Laurel’s words as clearly as he heard anything, and he felt the guilt burn as hot as the bullet that had struck his forehead. Somewhere along the way, he couldn’t even consciously remember where, maybe it had only been moments ago, Jamie had forgiven Laurel. She might have been the one to pull the trigger, but she had not stolen his life from him. Fate, or whatever its equivalent might be, had done that.
She was right. She didn’t deserve this. For a moment, as he watched her, he almost let that drive him away, for good. But then he remembered why he was there. Jenna and Derek were not going to be so quick with their forgiveness, and they had something planned. Jamie knew both of them well, and it would be easy for someone who didn’t to find themselves falling right into whatever trap they had built. If Laurel didn’t deserve anything, she didn’t deserve that. If he intended to protect her from that, he would have to stay.
He wished he had some way to hide himself from her, but there was nothing he could do. No way he could make it easier on her. For a further moment Jamie continued to stare blankly at her, before he shrugged noncommittally. He turned away, carefully walking towards the far wall and seating himself on one side of the couch near the window. He turned his back on Laurel, and did his very best to assume a posture of indifference. He poked the couch curiously, watching as his finger passed right through. For a brief moment he distracted himself by wondering what the couch actually felt like.
Since he had left his body, Jamie had never been uncomfortable. He could remain perfectly still indefinitely, without discomfort. He could sit in the air, in the floor, or on any surface, and, as far as his mind was concerned, it was all the most comfortable chair he had ever experienced. Once he would have envied such a complete absence of tension. Now he missed sensation.
And then Jamie remembered Laurel, an he forgot what he was thinking about. It was going to be a very long evening.