Chapter One: Ring, Ring, Ring, Your BFF Is(n’t) Calling! ONE Ring, Ring, Ring, Your BFF Is(n’t) Calling!
Ghosts are actually pretty cool. Just ask the one in front of me right now. He’s practically got fashion down to a science.

Harold Bartholomew Jr. wore a black top hat, a burgundy three-piece suit, and a striped bow tie that could only be described as swanky. But his fashion choices weren’t the most captivating thing about him. It was the dazzling blue of his eyes, sparkling under the barnyard lighting in the greenhouse shed, or Spirit Service HQ as my besties and I liked to call it.

Mr. Bartholomew Jr.’s granddaughter (correction: living granddaughter, because one can never be too careful) was currently seated with me and my friends at the round table in our supercool headquarters. Andronica wore equally swanky-looking clothes, but they seemed like they were about to be ruined by the waterfall of tears streaming down her face. The snotty kind. This required experts like us, skilled in handling townspeople who never thought they’d see their deceased loved ones ever again. And thankfully, my bestie Lillian Baxter kept a whole collection of Scotties tissue boxes at the ready.

“Now, Mr. Bartholomew Jr., sir,” Aiko Tanaka began, tapping a fountain pen to her glossed lips, “what did you say you needed again?”

“Music. I need music!” he reminded us chillingly.

“Does he want to take my mom’s old MP3 player?” Blair Ricci asked, teeth chattering as she stared at the ghost. She was still getting over her ghost fright. “Because I think she threw that out, like, before I was born.”

“A ghost of this caliber would prefer vinyl,” Aiko said to the rest of us. Lillian nodded along—as a K-pop fan, she was a thorough collector of albums, including vinyl. Meanwhile, I don’t think I’ve even touched a vinyl record before. Spirit Service President Raveena Gill might’ve been a music aficionado, but I preferred instruments like my flute to old-timey records, thank you very much.

“Only a musical object will do,” moaned the spirit. We’d dealt with a few impatient spirits before and knew if we didn’t act fast, we’d have a big mess on our hands.

Level one spirit, check!

Oh, yeah, did I mention my besties and I have a ghostly business? We basically kick these ghosts’ behinds into the afterlife (affectionately) thanks to an old phantom phone that helped us create our business, Spirit Service.

“I know what he needs!” Andronica suddenly stood, retrieving a small object from the depths of her purse. Seriously, that thing could be a magical well for how much it could hold.

“A music box?” Aiko wondered, inspecting the vintage object. “Well, that’s definitely new.”

Andronica finally found the strength to approach her deceased grandfather. “I know you liked to wind it up and play it every night. Would you play the song one final time? For me?”

The ghost’s eyes turned glassy with tears as he turned the ballerina inside the music box. A warm song filled the air, and it reminded me of Grandmama—her hugs, her smile, her laughter.

Grandmama passed away over a year ago. I was one of the lucky few who got to feel her gentle caress before she departed for the afterlife. Even though she was gone—something both my mother and I had a tough time with, in our own ways—I would always feel her warmth through music.

Once the spirit let out a relieved sigh, he said goodbye and left a faint kiss on his granddaughter’s forehead. He disappeared in a whirl of sparkly dust. The pink phantom phone, which we’d found all chipped up months ago in Yoon’s Antiques, was now newly repainted thanks to Aiko’s artsy skills. It practically shone under the HQ lights, its magical glow appearing almost greenish rather than its typical white. But that was probably because of all the planters we had hanging around the shed. It was a greenhouse, after all!

“Thank you, girls.” Andronica left us with a contented smile and a wad of cash—even though we had a new credit card system set in place thanks to the advice of Lillian’s banker parents. With business booming, Spirit Service could now directly fund the arts program at Hollows’ Peak Middle.

As soon as Andronica was gone, Blair pumped her fist in a cheer.

“That’s our hundredth client to date!” From the base of the phone, she pulled out the Guidebook for Guardians, our handbook for all things paranormal. Our Guardian guidance counselor, the town psychic and formerly reigning scary lady Tía Paola, told us the book was meant for Guardians to keep record of our spirit encounters.

“Well, now that we handled that…” I pulled out my phone. Yes, my cell phone. Mama finally made good on our deal and promised I’d get a phone at the start of eighth grade, which was just a few weeks ago.

I flipped the screen toward me, expecting a string of missed calls. Instead, all I saw was my glowing lock screen, a photo I’d found of me, Mama, and Grandmama visiting the CN Tower before Grandmama got sick. She was even brave enough to step onto the glass floor.

In the last several months, I’d learned bravery could manifest in many ways. Being honest with your friends. Not hiding secrets. And certainly not obsessing over contacting a dead relative.

Or a very much alive friend.

“Did he call yet?” Aiko said as she wiggled her brows playfully.

“Who?” Blair set down the guidebook, her brown eyes widening. “Oh. Ma-te-o,” she overemphasized in a singsong tone.

“Just Mateo,” I reminded my friends. “It’s no big deal. Maybe he forgot.” Sure, Mateo Pérez, my once-frenemy-turned-friend, had been FaceTiming me once a week since his temporary move to Rosemary Heights to live with his dad, and it was pretty much always on a Friday at 8:00 a.m. just before school. It was currently 8:02, but who was checking?

Me. And my besties. That’s who was checking.

“The real juicy part is that he has your number saved at all.” Aiko winked, flipping a piece of rainbow-dyed hair behind her shoulder as she peered over at my brand-new phone. “Do you have pet names yet? Or how about a ship name? Raveo? Mateena?”

“We’re just friends. And friends save their friends as contacts on their phones.” I flipped my phone to show my ghost-obsessed bestie my contacts app.

Aiko gawked. “OMG. You have a winky face emoji next to his name?”

I pulled my phone away, ears burning. I totally forgot I added the emoji.

“We should start planning their wedding!” Blair said with an air of playfulness. “I’ll cater the cookies. Now, should we go with a standard sugar cookie, snickerdoodles, or oat crisps? These are the questions!”

“Seriously, guys,” I told my friends, “I said it’s no biggie.” Although he had missed last week’s call too. “It’s not like he’s ghosting me. Pun intended.”

“There’s no way to be sure.” Aiko’s eyes lit up. “Or is there? Fierce fam, I have an idea.”

“Oh no,” Lillian moaned as Aiko withdrew a six-sided die from her backpack.

“Not the mystical die!” Blair chalked her fingers down her face. “Anything but that!”

“What the heck is a mystical die?”

“A gift from Tía Paola,” Aiko explained. “I showed it to Lillian and Blair before you got here. Pretty neat, huh? All you have to do is ask it a question, roll, and wait for your answer! It’s like an on-the-go fortune teller!”

“Not sure how accurate it is,” Lillian muttered out of the corner of her mouth. “I mean, I can allow for a small margin of error, but I asked if my brothers would ever stop bothering me for one minute at home, and the die said yes. Highly unlikely!”

Aiko waved a hand and rubbed the die between her palms, as if warming it up would enhance its “abilities.” “Oh, mighty mystical die, is the former HP Middle basketball star and Raveena’s totally-not-boyfriend ghosting her?”

I rolled my eyes but secretly took a glance as the die hit the wooden table in the middle of the greenhouse. Instead of having small dots to represent numbers, each side held a word or phrase, like GHOULISHLY NO, PSYCHIC’S CERTAINTY, and MYSTIC MAYBE.

The die landed, spelling out MYSTIC MAYBE.

“See?” Aiko cheered, as if finding out that someone was maybe ignoring you was the greatest thing in the world. “Something’s up with Mateo. He’s, like, off the grid or something!”

“If you say the phrase ‘alien abduction’ one more time…” Blair huffed, looking like she was about to pull out her crown of brown braids at Aiko’s obsessive look.

“Maybe he’s just busy,” I said as nonchalantly as I could, stuffing my phone back in my pocket.

“Let’s be real, besties,” Aiko said, putting away the die as we prepared ourselves for school. “Before long, Raveena and Mateo will be going steady! That’s what they used to say in Harold’s time. Like, totally smitten.”

“I am not smitten!” My cheeks burned. Mateo was my friend. A really good friend. We had magnetic peanut-butter-and-banana friendship charms on each of our arms to prove it. But our phone calls were just to make sure we kept in touch since his move… right?

“Okay, Raveena’s love life aside, we’re gonna be late for the school field trip to Rosemary Heights!” Lillian checked her watch. “I am not missing this one! Remember when Chase and Donovan made me late for last year’s Holloweekend science camp? I missed a whole day of cool science-y stuff! No way am I going to miss out this year. They’re bringing in actual scientists to teach us!”

Lillian shoved her phone in our faces, which displayed a pretty neat flyer and a hefty price tag. I guess science camp didn’t come cheap.

Aiko’s eyes sparkled as she tugged her backpack straps onto her shoulders. “So your parents said yes?”

Lillian fiddled with one of her hair buns. “Well, I haven’t exactly asked them yet. I’m waiting for just the right time. Besides, why wouldn’t they?”

“True,” Blair noted. “They definitely deserve the Coolest Parents of the Year Award.”

Blair was right in saying our bestie’s parents were the coolest couple around. They often hung out with Blair’s parents at Peter’s Roller Palace, and they even let Lillian stay up late to watch their favorite soap opera, Days of the Glorious.

We all got up and headed out the doors of Spirit Service HQ. Our headquarters was located by the best taqueria around, El Grillo, which happened to be owned by Mateo’s moms. Pretty convenient having drool-worthy tacos right next to our headquarters, which was the perfect abode for all things Spirit Service—though we did make our fair share of house calls too, especially with elderly clients.

I shivered as a burst of frigid wind passed by. It was already beginning to cool down here in Hollows’ Peak, which was just a hop, jump, and skip away from the heart of Toronto. Our town was pretty out there, with our weird and wacky ways and, of course, our deep roots in everything ghostly. It was all thanks to the town’s founder, Rose Hollow, who was Aiko’s hero in all things “spirited.”

Lillian fiddled with the BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA pin on her lapel. “I hear in Rosemary Heights, they’ve got tons of pumpkin spice deals this time of year, and I need to try all of them.” Hollows’ Peak was less of a pumpkin spice town and more of an apple cider city. Not that that stopped Blair from creating gourd-centric concoctions.

Aiko added, “Mrs. Yoon said that last year she tried the pumpkin-infused matcha over at Brews and Boos and it was to die for.”

“Considering how we deal with ghosts now, I hope that’s not literal.” We all giggled at Blair’s statement.

Hollows’ Peak lit up like a burst of golden sunshine during the autumn season. The trees were a mix of burnt oranges and burnished browns; the sky was perfectly covered in just a few wispy clouds, not a teardrop of rain to be seen; and every store, house, and building on Main Street was covered head to toe in all things “Holloween.”

That’s right. Here in Hollows’ Peak, we didn’t celebrate “Halloween” but “Holloween,” which was basically the same holiday except with our signature Hollows’ Peak touch. Every autumn, Blair baked her spiced pumpkin cheesecake cookies. They were always a hit at our town’s Holloween Festival—which we took quite seriously. The festival was a chance for us to put out our most spooktacular string lights, gourds, and festive autumnal garlands to signal the season… and face off in a series of games with our neighbors over in Rosemary Heights, all leading up to Holloween night. This year’s theme was “Mediums of the Past,” focusing on everything psychic.

We made it to the school’s gate in record time, and once we found our homeroom teachers, we piled onto the bus. Lillian sat beside me, and Aiko and Blair took up the rest of the row beside us.

The school bus lurched to a start, and we were off to visit the land of pumpkin spice.