Through the Break in Her Hair

Chapter 27

"So, how'd your date go?" Van chewed the end of his pencil, randomly spitting out bits of eraser on the table.

Gross, I thought, pulling my hands a little closer to my side. I had no desire to touch anything that came out of that kid's mouth. "Don't you already know?" I snapped.

Van detached himself from his textbook, bringing his face up to look at me. "John," he said wearily. "Just because I have the ability to see into every single person's future, doesn't mean that I have to or want to. How do you know that I wasn't busy reading someone else's mail?"

I laughed, unable to stop myself. "You're kidding, right?"

Van scowled. I told you, humor just wasn't his thing. "I hardly ever do."

I leaned across the table, careful to avoid the puddles of lumpy spit, and lowered my voice. "Who the heck else would you be spying on, and why?"

One of his black eyebrows lifted, his head tilting towards his shoulder infinitesimally. "People," he shrugged. "Besides, that knowledge is entirely my own business and absolutely none of yours."

My face screwed up my as I gathered my concentration, jumping into his brain. There had to be a weak spot in there somewhere, I just had to find it. Van was faster than I thought though, walling in his thoughts like a brick tower. I didn't even have the chance to see what he had for breakfast. Damn you...I sulked.

He smiled victoriously, way too enthralled in his success. It wasn't even fair. He owned this freaking gift for fourteen years! He knew its ins and outs, knew how to defend himself against prying eyes. I was just now learning how to use the thing.

"In time, baby mule," he cooed.

Wait...did he just call me...? My eyes narrowed, but I pushed aside the rising anger of being called an ass to my face. I had more important things to focus on. "How do you still know what I'm thinking?" It was the most frustrating thing on the planet, other than having to "take it slow" with Lindsey. We were supposed to be swapping gifts, not him stockpiling both of them like a pirate's hoard.

He waved the sticky, dripping pencil in my face. I grimaced and backed up. "You're too easy to read, John. You wear your thoughts, your emotions like a mask. You should try mixing it up sometime, wear them on your sleeve. They might be harder to see down there."

I wanted to be mad at him, truly, I did. But I the longer I knew the guy, the less his depreciation bothered me. I just didn't have the strength or the will to be so angry all the time. Anyway, the more I let him get to me, the more he'd torture me, belittle me, and berate me. It just wasn't worth it.

"So, will you be enlightening me this afternoon, or will you leave me guessing as to how your big day went?"

I cradled my chin in one hand, my elbow was propped up on the table for support, and flicked my pencil with the other. I was trying to see how long I could get it to spin in a circle before it lost momentum. "Fine," I muttered sullenly.

Our date wasn't the joyous, memorable occasion I had hoped for, the one Van tricked me into thinking it would be. We walked circles around that place until our shoes wore a trail into the floor and our feet felt like disintegrating. Then we parked it on a bench outside of the food court, sipping blue raspberry slushies and only talking when she felt like the moment was getting awkward.

Van looked shocked, and disappointed. "Fine? My dear boy, I hope, for your sake, that her sentiments weren't the same!"

Like I needed to hear that!? I was freaking out too! Several times I heard Lindsey arguing with herself, questioning my reason for asking her out. She was starting to doubt that I liked her at all.