Drinking a cup at the party, Ayanna thought nothing had tasted less to her like something a mom would make. It reminded her of whiskey and apples, and she was pretty sure she would feel undead in the morning. There were so many girls there dressed like sexy zombies, sexy rabbits with little tail puffs on bodysuits, or wearing onesie unicorn pajamas bought from the same big-box store. Jane was dressed as Sailor Neptune, wearing a green wig, a short green kilt, long white gloves, and ballerina flats that had ties up to her knees. A guy Ayanna had never seen before was very drunk and telling Jane if she ever wanted to try men, just for a weekend, please, please call him. Jane was telling him he was being annoying.

Ayanna had promised herself she wasn’t going to drink too much or stay out for too long. The next day, she was having lunch with Marlie and the creative writing professor, who insisted that Ayanna call her Mere. Ayanna was scanning the crowd for Felix, who had refused to tell her what his costume would be.

“Are you Dionne Warwick?” a guy dressed as a cow asked.

“No, she’s Aretha!”

“I’m Ronnie Spector, you guys,” Ayanna said.

She adjusted her wig and boots and then got another cup. The party was already sloppy. There was someone on the porch throwing bottles into the street. Someone was smoking a cigarette and swigging straight from a vodka bottle in the corner. Ayanna realized she did not want to be that girl wandering a party looking for her potential crush and went back to the dance floor. The playlist was on a Rihanna song and people were treating it as an opportunity to do different poses rather than really dance. Stephen shuffled toward her, alternated between posing like his hands were a picture frame, posing like a bat, and laughing, then went back over to the girl he was flirting with that night.

Ayanna danced a little more before feeling a hand on her neck.

“Liana.” She could feel warm breath, lips touch her ear.

“I’m here for you,” he continued. “It’s me, Vincent.”

She turned, but no one was there. Ayanna leaned against the wall, googled, for what felt like the millionth time, how do you get rid of a ghost? The suggestions were, as always, wear silver at all times, have an exorcism, take acre and listen to a Prince album backward, where you’ll hear that what sounds like music when played normally is just him praising God when played in reverse, chug holy water, find God, move into a new house, burn sage, pay reparations, accept it, go back to an old save in your Sims game and stop the neighbor from dying in your house. Ayanna went upstairs, got in the bathroom line behind a guy wearing a fedora and a suit and holding a fake cigar.