If you'd have told me a few weeks ago, a guy I had known for less then a week, and believed to be a stalker for half of that time, would be in my house making tea and helping himself to biscuits, I'd probably have thrown something at you. Well, perhaps I wouldn't be quite so dramatic, but the implication is there. Which shows how terrible my physic powers are these days.
'Here,' Alex paced the steaming mug of tea on the coffee table in front of me. In all honesty, although I'm sure he'd meant this to be a kind gesture; I was a little peed off that he'd been rummaging around my kitchen without permission. How. Rude. To be fair to him I'd just been sat in the front room, gorming out at the wall for a while now. Not that I have problems or anything, I was just in deep thought. Apparently my face looks like it's being melted when this occurs, so I'll try to keep my 'deep thinking' to the bear minimum in the future.
'Thanks,' I muttered, leaving the mug untouched. I still hadn't completely ruled out that stalker theory (now I'm just flattering myself). He sighed and plonked himself down onto the sofa next to me, still leaving just enough space that we weren't touching. How gentlemanly.
'You ok?' He repeated for what had to be the hundredth time that day. I shook my head, but didn't elaborate. Which sounds harsh of me, but apparently these 'mysterious' girls get all the attention now-a-days. Might as well try it out.
'Ok, I really don't know what to say right now.' He began, in a tone that suggested he was going to say something anyway.
'But you seem to be under some weird impression that something wasn't right with me yesterday. Honestly, I don't know what you're talking about. I was fine.'
'Didn't sound it,' I grumbled, his bluntness took me by surprise. I pulled a string of loose fabric on my sweater absentmindedly.
'Are you sure it was me you heard? Could have been anyone.' He suggested, trying to keep his tone light. It was something I had thought about, but I could've sworn it was him. Maybe he was right, and I WAS being dramatic. After all, looking at him today he seemed like the picture of health. This reminded me of something.
'Wait, why are YOU off school today?' I asked, checking the clock above the fireplace. It wasn't even lunch time at school yet. He gave me a sheepish smile.
'I DID feel a little ill last night. So I took the day off. Just in case, I was thinking of the other pupils of course, don't want to spread germs and cause an epidemic. Not that I'm all germ-ified. I don't even think that's a word-' He babbled, showing no signs of stopping. It suddenly hit me that I was sat in my living room with some guy in the middle of a weekday. Check me out, I'm such a rebel (please do note the sarcasm).
We spent most of the afternoon discussing Jared, Amber, schoolwork and teachers. It was odd, I wasn't sure whether it was a sub-conscious thing or something else, but not once did our abilities enter our conversation again. Of course I still hadn't forgotten about the incident the day before, but for some reason it seemed less important now. A bad memory from a nightmare which no longer scared me. It was only as late afternoon rolled around did I realised what time it was.
'Oops, didn't realise it was that late,' I muttered. We were still in the living room, flicking through music channels while Alex provided a running commentary on what was wrong with most 'bands today'. Apparently, they try too hard. Well, that was all I really got from his little seminar.
'Crap, I should probably go.' He stood up and stretched, popping his joints. For some reason this made me think of Amber, and one of our many discussions which consisted of her informing me that the 'popping' noise made by stretching is actually nitrogen bubbles bursting (I have no idea if that's true, I'd been meaning to 'Google' it). Amber would definitely be interested to hear in Alex's little visit. I remembered my little promise I'd made to myself, that I'd start being more honest with her. Curse me and my good intentions!
