He adjusted his hat, turning it backwards and slid on yellow sunglasses. A demon, I still didn’t know what to call him, perfectly hidden in plain sight. Taking me by surprise, he reached back to capture both my hands, which he pulled around to the front to tuck into his jacket pockets. His heat warmed me. Everything, except my legs and butt. I hoped it would be a short ride.
With ease, he pulled away from the curb. Since only an inch of snow coated the road, it remained unplowed. He drove slow enough that some of my tension lessened making it possible to notice other things. Like, the helmet smelled new and the scarf matched my jacket.
The snow hit the helmet with little pings and pops. I thought of that hitting my skin stayed carefully positioned behind him. His face had to hurt.
In a few short minutes, he pulled in front of the school. He held out an arm so I had something to hold onto to get off. The first attempt to get the helmet off gave me a moment of claustrophobia. He reached out to help, quickly and painlessly extracting me from its confines.
Smoothing a hand over my hair, I thanked him for the ride. “You still want to come to dinner? We’re having roasted chicken. Do you like chicken?” I felt awkward and knew I rambled.
He smiled slightly as he answered. “Yes, I like chicken. I’ll see you at five.”
That was too close to dark just in case something changed. Like my mom’s willingness to listen. I owed him extra time from last night too. “Make it four thirty.”
He nodded and I set the helmet on the back of the bike as it’d been before I’d gotten on. I took a step back. He looked at me a moment more, slightly puzzled and then pulled away.
I didn’t spend any time staring after him. Our unusual arrival during a flurry of snow had attracted too much attention. Thankfully, Beatriz was one of the many nearby witnesses and tugged me, arm in arm, into the school.
“You have to tell me… are you two a thing? If not, can I have him?”
A thing? With Morik? My mind still struggled to adjust to the reality of his existence. I couldn’t process any more than that. But her comment did give me something to think about again. Other girls might be interested in Morik. Today’s world was vastly different from Belinda’s world. Maybe someone out there would be a better companion than I would. If he couldn’t interact with them, nothing prevented me from talking to them. I could be his liaison. All he needed to do was tell me who interested him.
“We’re friends,” I said vaguely.
“He looks older. Obviously not in high school. Is he over twenty one?”
I grinned but didn’t answer. She had no idea just how far over twenty-one he was. Changing the subject, I said, “I’m going to talk to my mom tonight about maybe going over to your house.”
“Great. My brother’s home and my parents are going out with some friends tomorrow night. It’ll be fun.”
When I got home after school, the kitchen already smelled like roasted chicken. My mouth watered. Quickly discarding my jacket and scarf, I checked with Gran, “Need any help?”
“Nope. I did most the work already so I can sit when your mom and Aunt Grace get home. I don’t want to miss whatever this talk it about.” She slid another covered dish into the oven and reduced the temperature.
“Was that pie I just saw?” I sniffed the air theatrically.
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you what I made if you tell me what this conversation’s about.”
“No way. No deals.” No, thank you!
We sat at the table to wait. She asked about my day, but I couldn’t recall much having had a hard time concentrating on school, because of my focus on dinner with Morik instead.
It’d been weird going a whole day without Morik popping into someone else. And like a hypocrite, I’d watched for him. Excited by the prospect of me coming over, Beatriz, thankfully, hadn’t noticed.
Mom walked in the door just before four and wasted no time. “What’s going on?” Aunt Grace trailed behind her. They both hung their jackets watching me expectantly. Butterflies tickled my stomach as I met my mom’s eyes.
“You might want to sit down. This going to take a while. Just, please, wait until you hear everything before you freak out.” I’d run the conversation through my head several times during the day and none of them went well. I hoped the real one went better.
Mom’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. Aunt Danielle sat up in her chair, her eyes open and watching, but didn’t join us.
I got up and retrieved Belinda’s book from Gran’s bedroom. Setting it in the middle of the table, I started my story.