Jericho

Chapter 8 Sweaty Palms and Deadpans

I woke up next morning with a text from Sadie. I rubbed my still tired, blurry eyes and squinted at a picture of the Prof in her face, his big, round pupils expectant, probably looking for his breakfast as per usual. It made me smile. I already missed that demanding, little guy.

I sent her that cat emoji with the devious smirk and typed, Butt head. Sometimes I think he really believes he's royalty.

Stretching, I checked the time. Only eight and yet... Why did I feel like there was something to do today? It was a Wednesday... Nothing special about- Ohhhh. It hit me like a hook to the jaw. The motley crew I'd found myself involved with, the dangerous snooping our nosiness had led us into... Oh how I wished it was all the bad dream my grogginess would have let me believe.

Sometimes I like to replay that scene in my head when I wake up...unsteady, the one of all their faces giving me one last dose of love, before they were called home. But today it seemed to hurt more than help. Something about all this seemed too much like replacement and it gave me a hollow feeling deep in my gut.

No point in hiding under the covers, though. It's not like they could stop time or save me from what we planned to do today.

Before swinging my legs onto the floor, I lifted a quick prayer for the day and, lumbering into the kitchen, I sat myself right back down at the table.

Aunt Renee was already up and about, pouring herself a steaming mug of coffee. She slid me a side-eyed glance. "You were out late."

"Ha... Yeah." I grabbed up the salt shaker to fidget with. "Well after the movie, we all got to talking and hit it off. Sorta lost track of time. I'm actually going back out with those guys today."

She snorted mid sip. "Excuse me?"

"Did I say something wrong?"

She moved to the table and slid me a mug, fixed the way I like it. "What's gotten into you?"

"Into me? What do you mean? Thanks by the way," I said, savoring my first sip.

She raised her brows. "Mister antisocial. You don't just "hit it off" with strangers. Last night was bad enough, but I don't think I've ever heard those words come out of your mouth."

I squinted, "Well I don't really see how that—"

Renee set her cup down hard, not a slam, just enough to make her point. "Spill."

I held onto my silence a little longer, but she could sit there all morning, eyes trained on me, and never move a muscle. I never could hold that gaze. Releasing a breath I had pent up, I gave in. "Remember the friends Mom and I used to... Spend time with?"

"The pals you just got tatted on your arm? Ya."

"Yeah, them. Well we sort of all came together under some pretty crazy circumstances, you know? And it's like that again, but different."

"So what you're tellin' me is, you think God brought you these friends?"

Friends sounded a tad extreme. I nodded. "Something like that."

She popped her brows and leaned back in her chair. "Can't say I haven't been praying for you to find some good friends."

I smirked. "Why? I got you."

"Yes, well, I won't be around forever, now will I?"

I started to protest, "Not be around? You're in your prime."

She raised a hand, not finished. "Now, I'm not saying I'm goin' nowhere, but it's nice to know you'll be spending at least some of your time with some people under sixty."