“It’s only temporary,” Ezra added quickly. “We’re only postponing things. Actually, we’re sticking to the original time frame.”
“Wait. The original timeline? You mean… you mean like one or two more years?”
“You can finish out high school this way,” Ezra said, like that was something that really mattered to me.
“I don’t care about high school!” I snapped.
“I know,” Ezra sighed. “But an education is important.”
“Why does this just keep getting harder and harder?” Tears brimmed in my eyes, but I didn’t even fight them off. He knew this would upset me, which is why he’d told me alone.
“I don’t know.” He came over and sat next to me on the couch. To comfort me, he put his hand on my back. “I am sorry this is so hard for you, Alice. I truly am. In the meantime, you can still stay here as much as you want.”
“Yeah, right. Like Milo could handle that right now. Or like Peter could, if he ever decides to come back.”
“Milo will settle down soon, enough where you can be around as much as you’d like,” Ezra assured me, but I noticed that he made no mention of Peter.
“Can I ask you something?” I looked at him directly. “Do you think… I’m ever going to turn? I mean, is it ever really going to make sense for me? Or would I be better off getting on with my life and pretending that I never met any of you?”
“I can’t answer that for you, Alice.” His deep voice sounded saddened by my question. “I’ve always told you that regardless of how we feel, you need to do what’s best for you. And if you don’t think that’s this life, then it isn’t.”
“Like I have any idea what’s best for me.” Folding my arms on my knees, I buried my face in them. Ezra seeing me cry like that embarrassed me.
“I think you do.” His hand felt strong and gentle as he rubbed my back.
After a solid minute of crying, I decided that was enough and lifted my head. I wiped at my damp cheeks, pushing strands of hair off my face. I took a deep breath and reminded myself this wasn’t the end of the world. It was only a postponement.
“Do they know?” I asked, thinking of how cheery Mae and Jack had been.
“Jack got on about you turning last night, but I was evasive,” Ezra said. “No, I haven’t told him or Milo that you’re going to hold off.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
“You can tell them if you want, or I can, or we can. We can do it now, or next week. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He brushed his hair off his forehead and looked out the window. “I know neither of them will take it well.”
“Not tonight,” I decided. It seemed like far too much watching Jack get sad and angry over this. Feeling it myself was enough without having to feel it for him too.
“That’s understandable.”
“So I probably need to get myself in order before I go back out there, or they’ll know something’s up.” I smoothed out my hair.
“You know what would cheer you up?” Ezra asked, getting to his feet. “Watching an elephant paint. It’s really much more entertaining than it sounds.”
“Okay,” I laughed a little and got up.
After Ezra showed me the video, he gave me a brief tour of his den, explaining some of his favorite books and the painting on the wall. He’d actually lived in Amsterdam shortly after Rembrandt died, so that had always held some significance to him.
When I finally looked like my normal self, we headed out in the living room to see what everyone else was up to.
For most of the night, Jack and Milo played video games, but nobody complained. I felt rather sad and lonely, and while I did my best to mask it, Mae noticed and let me curl up with her on the couch.
The time passed much quicker then I wanted it to, and before I knew it, the sun was rising and Jack was giving me a ride home. If I had been awake enough to talk, he probably would’ve noticed something was up, and I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t even want to think about it.
- 11 -
Nine days left of freedom, and Jack couldn’t return a stupid text message. I couldn’t spend another night locked up inside the stifling heat of the apartment. In anticipation of escape, I had gotten all dolled up, and I looked ridiculously foxy, at least for me. I could not stay inside looking that good.
Three text messages and one hour later, when I still hadn’t heard from Jack, I resorted to calling him.
“Alice,” Jack answered the phone, and he didn’t sound happy. So that was a good start.
“Jack.”
“What can I do for you?” he asked, and someone talked behind him. “Hold on.” Before I could say anything, the sound muffled as he moved the phone away from his mouth. “No! Can you just wait? I’m on the phone.” He scoffed. “I don’t care! Just hold on!”
“Jack, what’s going on?” I thought I heard Milo shouting in the background. “Is something wrong?”
“No, everything’s fine.” Jack was talking into the phone again, sounding irritated. “Look, now’s not really a good time to talk. Can I call you back later?”