Soulmate Clocks

You Must Be Crazy

Chapter 3

You Must Be Crazy

*****

"Angel, now's not the time to make silly jokes. We seriously have to figure this out before we're stuck like this for all of eternity." Chance sighed in exasperation. "Besides, that old inventor may be dead by now."

I frowned. I really hadn't thought of that. When the idea to visit him first struck, I was excited because I thought that it was such a brilliant plan. When Chance actually really anazyled it, I felt so stupid.

Too bad.

I'm way too stubborn to believe that he's not alive.

"But, think of it like this, what if the inventor isn't dead? What if he's hiding out some place we don't know about? What if he can be of help to us, Chance? Think about it."

"But what if he can't?" Chance countered.

"Holiday, you never know until you try. The best we can hope for right now is to just find out where he is, so that he can separate us." I argued.

Chance sighed, running his left hand through his hair.

I noticed and frowned.

Actually, it wasn't the first time I noticed that he did things mostly with his left hand but I didn't really look into it.

"Chance."

"Uh, yea?" He asked turning around.

"You're left handed?" I furrowed my brows.

He stared at me for a few seconds seemingly surprised.

"Yea. You noticed that?"

"Umm well yes kinda." I muttered. "But its not like I was looking at you a lot or anything. I just noticed that you did most things left handed. Yea."

"Mmhmm yea." He smirked. "Sure you weren't."

I rolled my eyes,grumbling under my breath.

He looked over his shoulder. "What's that you said, Angel?"

"I said, freaking white boy." I snapped in annoyance.

It is very odd but, whenever I'm around this lad here, I always seem to get annoyed or irritable a lot.

"You do realize you're also white, right?" He cocked an eyebrow at me.

I huffed. "I may be, but at least it's not as bad as your pale ass self."

Did I really just go there?

Cripes, I sound racist.

Chance turned away, pretending to reading through some dusty pages on the crooked table.

Damn, when he makes up his face like that, I could just...

"Look, Chance, I'm sorry I called you white." I said meekly.

I looked up at me with a coy smile on his face.

"I'm not" He winked at me." I was only standing up for my fellow American brothers."

He patted his chest looking out the grimy window that had yellowed with age.

"You must be crazy." I folded my arms across my chest. "I hope you realize that we're blooding British, you pikey." I laughed.

Chance turned around with a scowl on his beautiful face.

"Did you seriously just call me white trash?"