13: So You're Mad

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Chapter Thirteen

What in the world was he doing here? He couldn't be here. It was four something in the morning. But I really wanted him here. God, why was I thinking that? At least I knew it was the present. Over the past couple of hours, I'd gotten a feel for when it was real and when it wasn't. Even then I was always surprised when the reversal happened. Instinctively, I knew it wouldn't happen this time. Everything I said would be permanent, if I could say anything at all, and it made me a little nervous. What if I said the wrong thing?

Cecil came down off the porch and within two of his long strides he was standing in front of me. It was still dark so I couldn't really see his face. How did I know it was him, besides the fact he said my name? There was the smell, lavender and vanilla. It permeated the air lightly around him. Then of course there was that overwhelming sense I wanted to run away as quickly as possible but stay all the same time.

Yeah it was him.

"Looking for this?"

He reached out and placed a cool piece of metal in my hand. When I closed my fingers around it, the teeth of the key pressed against the palm of my hand. I nodded my thanks, and yes that hurt too. Any communication with him would hurt. It felt like I'd slept the wrong way, you know, that specific neck strain you get sometimes? That was how I was feeling.

I promptly turned around and went up the steps. I wasn't leaving, even though I wanted to. I was just turning on the light so I could see. That was the thing about the coming new moon. Couldn't see a freaking thing since my father refused to install one of those security lights. At this hour the moon was on the other side of the house so whatever miniscule light it could provide didn't reach where we were currently standing. My uncle recommended the light but my father said if he wanted to see, he'd just switch on the porch light. Not to mention his bedroom faced this side of the house and he didn't want the perpetual light shinning in his window all night. My father liked to sleep in a pitch black room.

He's weird.

After I unlocked the door, I flipped on the kitchen light and went inside. Since I left the door open, Cecil took that as a sign to follow and he did, closing the door softly behind him.

"Tally?"

I held up a finger, signaling I needed a second. Maybe I was a defective Elite because I was tired, like bone deep tired, and the fact that I was now facing the situation of trying to talk to Cecil was making me even more tired.

This sucked.

I put the book down on the island and turned to face him, hoping I'd gathered up enough strength for this. He looked casual, wearing jeans and a red t-shirt with the words "Don't worry, I'm a doctor" printed on the front. It was a Dr. Pepper t-shirt under his black leather jacket. I hated that carbonated drink but he, of course, loved it. I was starting to wonder how we remained friends for the first fourteen years of our lives since we both liked dramatically different things.

But then maybe what people said was right.

Opposites attract.

"You're not supposed to be here."

I was grimacing by the time I was finished, ignoring the clustering headache that was occurring at the back of my skull. If he could do this for the past three years then I could do it now.

"Sure I am." He flashed me a smile. "I have to give you your birthday gift."

I raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. If he remembered, and he did by the new twinkle in his eye, he knew I was a little annoyed.

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