I don't want to lose you

2. Whatever happened to hello? How're you?

I make one final turn and find Willa already waiting for me, she’s standing there with her olive green bookbag that matches her pale green overalls. She looks very serious until she sees me. Her face lights up, her eyes go wide and, her hands fly in the air supposedly waving. Willa hops into my car and immediately turns off my broadway music and turns on Taylor Swift. Willa has a whole playlist dedicated to Taylor Swift, she’s a bit of a fan. Her once bright face turns serious again.

    “So, I have this problem. I was eating breakfast earlier and a cereal box fell off the shelf. Some purple rays came out of my hands and now there are burn marks on my kitchen counter.” Willa says, she’s trying not to appear freaked out but I can tell that she is. Whatever happened to hello? How are you? Thank you so much for picking me up.
    Ever so helpfully I say, “Woah, that’s intense.”
    She shoots me a silent look of ‘Wow, so helpful.’ “You’re telling me! What do I do?! It’s not like I can just call the emergency line and tell them there are purple rays casually shooting out of my hands!”
 
  Is sarcasm helpful right now? Probably not, but I’m also notoriously sarcastic, “Really? I had no idea.” Haha, very funny. But seriously! What should I do?”
Look, I know this probably wasn’t the most helpful thing to say but I cope with serious issues using humour. “Maybe this is an Elsa situation and if you put gloves on, build an ice palace, and some tiny talking snowman it’ll all be okay!”
“Please for once can you be serious. Your jokes are becoming annoying.” Willa says, slightly irritated so I back off a bit on the jokes.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Uh, let me grab some paper.” I say, rustling through my bag looking for a pad of paper and a pen. I’m going to try and help them if that’s the last thing I do.
    “Yeah, like a pad of paper is going to solve all of life’s problems,” Willa says sarcastically looking out the window at the sad city. I imagine she only sees the joyful and colourful parts, based on her bright personality.

“You’d be surprised how therapeutic writing can be.” I scribble on the pad of paper with a pen, testing the ink and making sure it works. Spoiler alert, it doesn’t. None of my pens ever work when they’re urgently needed.
“No wonder you do it all the time.” She says jokingly while playing anxiously with her apartment keys.
 
  “Ouch, that was uncalled for,” I say, putting away the pad of paper and putting the car out of Park.
    “It’s okay, we both need therapy. How else are we friends?” She’s not wrong, we have both gone through some shit. Luckily, I managed to convince Willa to look into therapy, and she’s currently on the absurdly long waiting list.
    “Fair point,” I say, “How’s the waiting list looking?”
“Not great,” She responds, “Find a solution yet?”
 
  “Nope. Wanna go out for ice cream?” I could go for some mint chocolate chip right now, despite it being chilly outside.
    “Might as well. If I’m gonna be destroyed soon, I might as well have some ice cream as the last treat.” Willa says dramatically. She’s not going to be destroyed, I won’t let that happen.
My phone buzzes on the phone stand attached to the car, “You’ve picked up Willa, right?” Reminders come in handy it turns out. “Actually, never mind. That’s a foolish idea. You have class.”
 
  “Aw, man. I really wanted ice cream!” She complains and stamps her foot, Willa loves ice cream. Especially cookies & cream. That’s her favourite flavour. Just as I was about to respond Willa screams in a delighted manner.
“LOOK, IT’S A KITTY!” Good goddess, I think the entirety of New York heard Willa’s excitement. She’s beaming though, I forgot how much Willa loves cats.
“Say it louder, I don’t think it heard you.” That was a stupid move. I should’ve known that she would just scream louder but you know me, always making foolish decisions.
 
  “You’re right,” I knew it, she loves to spite me, “KITTY, YOU’RE SO CUTE! I WANNA TAKE YOU HOME WITH MEEEE” She drags out the E in a screech to make her point. How does she scream even louder?
    “I’m sending you my doctor’s bill. I think you fractured my eardrums.” What would it feel like if someone fractured your eardrums? I’ll add that to my list of things to Google in the middle of the night.
 
  "I’m your friend." Willa says, "It’s my job to drive you crazy." She smirks.
    "That goes both ways, y’know." She may regret saying that later, who knows? We’re great at annoying each other.
    “I’m not scared. You’re a cinnamon roll who can’t even hurt a fly.” She retorts. Really? She’s bringing this up again?
    “Okay! Again?!” I drag out the 5 letter word to show that the fact she keeps bringing this back up is ridiculous “It kept looking at me with its little fly eyes. Pleading with me. I can’t do
that!” I defend myself, it’s not a great defense but one nonetheless.
 
  “Yeah, sure. Cinnamon roll.” Willa taunts, grinning ear to ear.
“I wonder where your purple rays came from. What’re you gonna name them?”
Willa looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind, which I probably have, to be fair, “Who names strange purple rays coming out of their hands?!?!”
    “I know I would,” I mean, who wouldn’t? “If someone can name their cars, you should be able to give a name to your powers,” I add.
    “You’re ridiculous,” She says while rolling her emerald green eyes.
    “I know, you are too.” I retort with a smirk playing across my lips. A moment of silence goes by as she stares out the window, looking at the city.
 
  “I wonder if they came from that strange glowing purple rock I touched 7 years ago.” She says casually as if she was stating that she needs to buy bread.
    “No, not at all.” Sarcasm runs in my veins. “YOU TOUCHED A GLOWING PURPLE ROCK AND DIDN’T THINK ANYTHING WOULD HAPPEN?!?!” I yell. Who just touches a random glowing purple rock and doesn’t think anything will happen? Yeah, let me just mosey on over and pat a random glowing purple rock. Nothing will happen, right?
 
  Willa and I hold eye contact as I look at her in disbelief “….yeah…” she says as if that’s an ordinary thing to do.
    “Oh, my goddess. You’re a boil-brain. WHO JUST-” Willa interrupts me mid-scream.
“Did you just insult me in a Shakesperean manner?” She questions while staring at me as if people don’t typically insult each other in a Shakesperean manner. Okay, maybe they don’t. It’s a shame they don’t do it more, instead, they use these uncreative, boring ones that don’t produce nearly as much joy.
 
  “Yes, I did you flap-dragon.” Does it sound silly? Yes, that’s the whole point. They can do the same thing but also sound silly so you can laugh at how ridiculous the insult is.
    It takes Willa a moment to notice but when she does she pretends to get angry about it. Wildly pointing fingers she yells, “YOU JUST DID IT AGAIN!” while looking at me in disbelief. As if I haven’t done it for years.
 
  “And I’ll do it a million times more.” Quick, change the subject,  “WHO JUST TOUCHES A GLOWING PURPLE ROCK AND THINKS NOTHING OF IT?!” It still blows my mind. Willa is normally careful of danger, she doesn’t even swallow her yogurt. It’s out of character for Willa.
    “Me, I do,” she says with a grin and a raise of the hand as if it’s something to be proud of.
    I slightly smile and nod my head in defeat. “I should’ve thought of that.”
    “Yes, yes you should’ve. You should know me by now.” She taunts with a smirk.
 
  “I thought I did, up until you TOUCHED A GLOWING ROCK! You disturbed a glowing purple rock and thought nothing would happen?”
    “Why’re you so shocked by this?”
    “It’s out of character for you, you don’t even swallow your yogurt without chewing through it first!” Alright, I think I’ve freaked out enough by now, time to move on, “Seven years ago though. That’s a long time. Must be a delayed reaction.” I add, my brain gears are turning as I try to think of a reason as to why all of a sudden her powers would turn up, instead of 7 years ago when she first disturbed the rock.
   “Or it was…” She pauses for a moment, “Never mind.” There’s more to the story. If only I had popcorn.
 
  “No, no, no. What were you going to say? Did you touch a glowy stone? Get trapped in a
dungeon? Stuck in a dreadful Justin Bieber concert?” I wildly guess. At this point, anything’s possible.
    “Did you just indirectly insult Justin Bieber?” Willa says, putting a hand to their heart, gasping in disbelief as if it’s impossible to despise Justin Bieber.
 
  “Yes, I did. And I’ll do it a million times more. I stand by my statement that Justin Bieber is terrible.” That is a hill I’m willing to die on, for as long as I live. However, Willa is a kinda-fan of Justin Bieber’s. She likes him but she doesn’t fan-girl over him as she does with Taylor Swift. We’ve had countless debates over him.

“How dare you. I don’t think we can be friends anymore.” She says turning away, her arms folded, her eyes firm. She’s forgotten one thing though, Willa absolutely loves Starbucks. It’s always been a weak spot of hers, so I use it to my advantage.
“Well then, I guess no more Starbucks for you.”
   
She snaps back towards me, “No, wait! I’m sorry. I take back what I said. Please still be my friend.” She tilts her head and stares at me with puppy eyes. The puppy eyes do not affect me but she still does them.   

  “Alright, fine. Fine.” I ‘give’ in. I don’t give in easily, I’m firm to what I believe, much like Willa. Which is what makes our debates fun. A few times we’ve even brought out data and studies, we even had a moderator. It was intense.
Like a toddler who was just told they could have a few chocolates, she cheers “Yayyy!”
 
“So, what do you think happened?” I ask. The only way we can piece together what happened is if she tells the truth or at least something very similar to the truth. Preferably the truth though.
 
  “I’m not sure, honestly. Could be a lot. I’ve touched a lot of glowing things in my lifetime.” She admits. You know, I’m not that shocked. She loves glowing items. She finds joy in lava lamps, fireflies, glowsticks, items like that.
 
  “So I guess we just figure it out,” I say with a shrug, it should be a fun mystery. Time to put the detective skills I’ve acquired over the years to use.
    Excitedly she nods, “Yup. Should be fun!”
 
  I laugh, “You’re like a little hyper chipmunk who’s very hyped on sugar.”
    “That’s probably the most accurate comparison I’ve heard about me,” Willa says thinking about past comparisons people have made against her.
    “I think it fits you well. Minuscule, hyper, slightly nimble-brained chipmunk.”
 
  Willa protests, “Hey! I’m not little!”
“You’re 5 feet and 3 inches tall. Don’t tell me that you’re not little.” 5 foot, 3 inches is considered small, right?
    “I’m 5 feet and 5 inches, you giant.” She teases. She’s trying to make a weak case.
 
  “I’m only 5 feet and 10 inches tall.” That’s not tall, I don’t think so anyway.
    “My statement still stands gentle giant.” Ah yes, because who doesn’t love being called a gentle giant? She’s called me a gentle giant for a decent while.
    “I love how you ignored my sneaky insult.”
    “Calling me minuscule is more important than being called nimble-brained, whatever that means.”
 
  “Ah, little chipmunk. You have much to learn.” Yes, I did just make a Star Wars reference. Deal with it.
    She sits up tall and in an intimidating voice, “I’m a little chipmunk with powers.” She says, raising her eyebrows.
 
  “Powers you can’t control,” I smirk.
She grows more serious, “I’m scared, Aerri.” I haven’t heard that nickname in a decent while. The words wrap me like a warm blanket. Suddenly, my warm blanket is taken.
    “I know me too. We’ll figure it out though,” I say with false confidence. We have to figure this out.

I pulled up outside of her school building. Brick and mortar, boring but supposedly the best school around. She thanks me for the ride and holds her head high as she walks into the building. I have 5-6 hours to figure something out.

Time to pay Uncle Bruce a visit.