Dreaming and the Art of It (On Hold)

Dreaming and the Art of It - Before - 8

ACK! Sorry for the short chapter, but it really needed to happen this way! If I jumped straight to the next thing (which, I hope, you guys will love!) then it would’ve seemed too rushed.

Anyways! I’ll give you a heads up: you find out something pretty fucking cool about Xander in the next chapter!

I’ll leave you guessing about that ;)

-jennaxxx

PS. I know, I know...I was supposed to upload 'Welcome to Eureka' first....I couldn't help myself! I'm just so excited about this story, and I'm experiencing some lack of motivation for WtE.

Chapter Eight

“Good afternoon,” I smiled at Xander while pulling out my chair. It was the next day, after my tests, and furthermore, after my realization that I could do…what I did…

I don’t know a name for it? Bending time? Just slowing it down?

All I know is that I can do it, as crazy as it sounds.

When Vaughn, my sleazy landlord, was hounding me about my rent when I got in, all I had to do was to want for time to slow, and it did. I just maneuvered around him, and went up to my room, completely avoiding the ogling looks he’d shoot between scolding me.

And when I turned the faucet on, all I had to do was concentrate on the running water, and it fell in a sluggish stream into my glass. Watching the droplets as they hit the bottom and splattered in slow motion…I’m positive time had slowed because of me.

As usual, I turned to the internet, searching if anyone, anyone else had any idea what was going on with me. Yeah, yeah, I know; the internet’s not always a reliable source. But I wasn’t really paying much mind to how reliable my source was. The website which told me that some people believed they had odd…skills…just like me. Honestly, it sounded like a bunch of bologna, and I just shut my computer off.

“You’re awfully happy,” Xander smiled at me. “No – let me guess: you’re done with exams?”

“Right,” I nodded, half-lying. I didn’t know whether I was happier about that or my new-found insanity.

“Well that’s good,” he looked down at his tray. “You looked so sad, these past few days. I was beginning to worry -,”

“Well,” I drawled, cutting him off. “I’m all better now. You shouldn’t worry,” I looked him in the eye, trying not to show my discomfort.

“Right,” he said, a small frown gracing his lips.

“So?” I asked. “It’s almost the holidays, you know. Planning on doing anything special?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I usually don’t. They don’t exactly like giving me leave, you know.”

I still didn’t understand what was so wrong with him, mostly because he wouldn’t talk, no matter how much I pestered him. Sure, he spoke – but mostly about material things. Whenever we got onto the subject of his past, or anything deep, really, Xander would stiffen and change the subject.

And frankly, I was getting sick of it. Having this enigma taunt me, every day, for an hour, was torture. Each day, we’d get just a little bit closer, but by the end of lunch hour, he’d always shut down, and it was two steps back again. I wanted to know who Xander really was, but he didn’t trust me still. I didn’t know him long, but I liked to think that we were good enough friends, considering he’d never had an intern before.