The image that stared back at him was not his own. It was Heather Campbell's. "What the . . . ." Jason said. As he spoke, he noticed that his "reflect...on" did not match his own movements. "I'm sorry about the bump on your head, Jason," the image in the mirror said. "You weren't getting it, so I needed to make a point." "Heather? Heather Campbell? This can't be. I must be dreaming." "No dream, Jason. It's me . . . well, my ghost, at least." Jason jumped back at that. "Um, ghost?" "Well, I am. As she ate and studied she became aware that someone was standing beside her table.She looked up to see Arnie Porto, a guy who had been in some of her classes in the past couple years. He was big in the frats and obviously very popular on campus. Handsome would be an understatement to his looks. He was rugged and dressed like a J Crew catalog. Arnie had left a string of broken hearts over the campus, as well as a string of willing conquests. They had been friendly, but he had never come on to. More

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