Ben sits beside you on the low brick wall outside the school, backpack at his feet, picking at a loose thread on the strap like it has personally wronged him.

“You don’t have to wait with me” he says, trying to sound casual, like it does not matter either way.

“I know my family is weird” he adds after a moment, eyes fixed on the pavement. “Running a hotel for ghosts is not exactly normal parent stuff.”

He laughs quietly, too quick, too rehearsed.

“People at school say things. I hear them. I pretend I do not.”

Ben finally glances at you, searching your face for something he does not name.

“You are still my friend though. Right”