Between

He smirks. “When are you going?”

 

 

This isn’t the reaction I expected. The conversation I heard didn’t suggest I could leave without a struggle. “Don’t know.”

 

“More importantly, where are you going?”

 

Good question. “I’ll find somewhere.” I have a thousand and one questions I want to ask this guy. With his strange mix of arrogance and caring, I’m still not sure if he is an ally or an enemy. Instead, I sip my tea and fix my look on a spot behind him.

 

“When you’re not so tired, we should talk,” he offers.

 

“Talk? To me? Why, thank you!” I turn on the saccharin sarcasm.

 

Alek slumps back in his chair. “Or not. Your choice.”

 

“I’m tired, Alek. I’m not in the mood for games.” I stand and edge toward the door. In response, he sits forward again.

 

“There are things I need to talk to you about,” he says. “Important things.”

 

I pause in the doorway. “You barely say anything to me, annoy me with stupid nicknames, and then say you have important things to tell me. And I should believe you, why?”

 

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, I just haven’t figured out how.”

 

“Yes, I noticed your conversational skills are lacking.”

 

Alek grins and shakes his head a little. “You’re amusing. Aren’t you curious about what I have to say?”

 

“Didn’t you hear me say I’m leaving? I’m leaving because of how this place makes me feel. ‘Curious’ is not the word I’d use.”

 

“You can’t leave,” he says softly.

 

An image of myself locked in my room springs to mind, the stupid Bo Peeps and fairies from my wallpaper closing in on me. I’m close to running upstairs, packing, and leaving tonight. “Are you threatening me?”

 

Alek tips his head,. “No, but I’m trying not to touch you.”

 

I lick my dry lips as he stands and I back toward the doorway. Why does a huge part of me want to touch him? Alek doesn’t get close enough for me to feel threatened, but I can’t move. “What’s going on?”

 

“So much. Too much. It’s late. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 

“What did Lizzie mean about you protecting me?”

 

Alek’s eyes widen. “What?” Now he can’t pretend their conversation didn’t happen.

 

“Right before the bit where she suggested you seduce me?”

 

Stepping backward, Alek returns to his chair. He sits and resumes nursing his beer, switching off.

 

“Sweet dreams, Casper.”

 

His sudden shift in mood is too much to comprehend or challenge. The more interaction I have with Alek, the more I worry his edginess points to deeper issues. Quietly, I leave the kitchen and hope the effect he just had on me doesn’t stop me sleeping.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7

 

 

 

I wake up to an unpleaseantly cold house, as usual and getting out of bed isn’t appealing because of the temperature outside of the bedclothes. My shift isn’t until later today, so I snuggle back under my blankets to lie in for a while. Hunger has other ideas.

 

As I sit and eat cereal, I notice Alek’s empty beer bottle and consider our last non-conversation. The discomfort I feel around this house grows every day, so I decide today’s job will be searching for somewhere else to live. Finding this place took a long time, so I know finding somewhere new won’t be an easy task; however, my unease is growing into fear for my safety.

 

Wrapped up in a thick coat and scarf around my face, I step outside into the bright autumn day. Walking out of the house lifts my spirits; a sense of relief when leaving the place you live isn’t good and this reinforces my decision to leave.

 

As I head to the bus stop, I fish around in my pocket for loose change and pull out a card. The printed lettering reminds me about the doctor’s appointment I made the day I fainted. I agreed to go back—should I go or not? Since the accident, I’ve had enough of the medical profession to last a lifetime, but they could have answers to help stop the dizziness and fog.

 

***

 

 

The doctor’s room is brightly lit with the usual set of medical books and weird plastic models, which can be pulled apart to show the inner workings of the ear or where babies come from. This doctor has the modern mix of the friendly and concerned demeanour medical professionals have these days. She taps a button on her keyboard and spends a couple of minutes reading over my notes.

 

“So, you’ve had some dizzy spells again.”

 

“A couple. I fainted once.”

 

“Any headaches?”

 

“No.”

 

“How are you coping with the job?”

 

“Nothing’s bothering me if that’s what you mean.” Apart from where I live.

 

She turns back to her screen, brown eyes moving rapidly to take in everything in my notes. “How long have you been out of hospital now?”

 

“About three months.”

 

“And the dizziness just started again?”

 

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