Not Long At All

Chapter Sixteen

David's POV:

      "What time did you say he would get here?"

      I turned, looking to Sarah from behind the store counter. Sitting on one of the steps,  she absently flipped through a guitar catalog. I watched her, a strange feeling of contentment at the sight of her in my clothes. My jeans were rolled upward of four times, baggy around her legs. The over sized Pink Floyd shirt, tucked in at the front, buried her, mystifying her frame.

      Suddenly her eyes were in mine and I hastily stumbled over an answer, "Oh, I um, yeah, he uh. One. He said that. Probably around one. Ish."

      I crouched behind the counter, heat swelling up my face, and pretended to put something away. Shuffling things around, I began wondering about everything. We were waiting for Ziggy because... after trying to come up with an answer, I found that I was left empty.

      I frowned before standing up, "So what's our plan? Exactly?"

      Sarah laid the catalog in her lap, leaning forward before shrugging, "I'm not really sure."

      Silence followed and she frowned down at her feet, thinking. I watched her, trying to follow her train of thought. I cleared my throat, "Do you want to just straight out ask him or...?" 

      There was a beat and she shook her head at me, "It's almost one thirty, David."

      I met her gaze, "You have no idea what the plan is. Do you?"

      Going back and forth between my eyes, I could see her searching for an answer. It dawned on me and my stomach shivered, "There is no plan."

      Her silence was more than enough for me. Panic bubbled inside me and I raised my eyebrows, "No plan?"

      I broke into a smile and laughed at the ceiling, "I can't believe this! We are about to confront the only person I know, from a world I don't belong to about an image he appeared in from a glass orb I made float with my head. Without a plan!"

      Sarah stood, suddenly defensive, and slipped the catalog between a set of records, "Do you have a plan? This isn't just my problem you know."

      I stepped from around the counter, my stress boiling out, "Oh I'm very much aware. My truck," I jabbed a finger towards the door, "Is missing nearly all its windows. I jumped out an asylum window for you. I am being chased by people! I am very aware that this is not just your problem."

      Ferocity burned in her eyes, defense in her voice, "Then why are you treating me like it's all my responsibility? You act like this is my fault!"

      I took a breath and looked around me before hysterically stepping towards her, locking her gaze, "It is!"

      She narrowed her eyes as I spun away from her, throwing up my hands, "This!" I faced her again, swooping my arm across the room, "All of this. Is your fault."

      "What do you even care?" Sarah screamed at me, breaking, "This isn't your world! You said it yourself! You keep blaming me when you should be trying to help me fix this."

      "Maybe I don't want to!"

      "How can you say that?"

      The emotions that had been swelling inside me suddenly burst out, "I'm scared! Dammit, this is scary! I don't know what any of this is!"

      The sympathy I was hoping for didn't come; instead, her fire blew hotter, "I don't care! You think this has been easy being stuck with you?"