Paper Birds

Chapter Forty-Two ; The Life Triangle

"Ba da ba ba da," I sang, scrambling some eggs. I was in an especially good mood two weeks after my nightmare incident. For one, I had blank nights after that. No dreaming, no nothing. Just blissful sleep. Secondly, One Direction was coming off early. Harry had been acting strange and sickly since the day of madness. He wouldn't tell anyone outside of the band why. He was forgetting song lyrics, stumbling around on stage and not acting like his usual self. Of course, that wasn't what I was happy about. In fact, I felt sick to my stomach just thinking about it, knowing that I had caused his career's downfall. Harry insisted that he and the boys were done with their third album, anyway, and that after nine months they'd come back fresh and ready to go. All of the boys were growing tired and they needed a break sooner rather than later.

I was happy because that in just five days, I'd meet Harry at the airport, bags packed, ready to move in with me.

Just the thought made me deliriously happy.

Incidentally, Robbie had taken me to a shooting range just a few days ago. It was really neat to finally learn own to handle a gun, the proper way. He was pretty good at it, training to be a cop and all, though I really needed to work on my aim. I had gotten controlling the kick down, so that had to count for something.

"Move your elbows closer together," Robbie would tell me. "Keep your eye on the target."

Now I had something else to add to the list of things Robbie and I bonded over; football, hockey, and shotguns.

I visit the shooting range every day, now. It gives me something to do and an outlet to blow off some steam packed inside of my gut. Plus it keeps me from thinking about other things that I don't care to mention.

Anyway, I was scrambling eggs, which I was finally getting the hang of after burning a dozen earlier, when someone came knocking on my door.

"Come in," I yelled, immediately regretting it. For all I know it could be one of the thugs that were after me.

It wasn't, though. In my apartment was dirty blonde in a turquoise tank top and booty shorts who was soon going to become my sister-in-law.

"Tiffani? What're you doing here?"

"Ah, sorry. I should've called."

Yeah, I thought. That would've been nice.

I untied the cheesy apron around my waist and tossed it onto a wooden chair, scraping my under-cooked eggs onto a plate. "Want some?" I offered. She took one look and wrinkled her nose, though I had to give her credit because she was trying to hide it.

"No thanks," she answered politely. I shrugged and took a bite, totally understanding why she didn't want any. She cleared her throat. "I came by because I wanted to get to know my soon-to-be-sister better," she explained cheerfully. "I thought we could out and get some coffee. Maybe do a little shopping."

Clearly this girl had no idea what to expect from me. I smiled and tried my best to be like Old Clarissa, a girly, respectable, polite lady who never spoke out of context. "That sounds great, I appreciate it. I'll go change into something nicer."

She smiled sweetly. "What you're wearing is just fine, Claire."

I flinched at the 'Claire'. I wasn't used to her calling me that. "No, I insist."

I pulled out a chair for her at the dining table. She sat down and I went into my bedroom, throwing on a shimmering red blouse and white jeans that I haven't worn in all of the weeks I've been here. I looked at the calendar and realized it was almost a month already. Time flies by when you're going insane.