Fearless Beings

Chapter 2

Third Person Speaking:
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A nervous knot coiled in Tom's stomach, and though he refused to acknowledge it, it did little to help him settle down the storm inside his head. Almost consciously, he pressed two fingers to his temple and waited for the dull ache to fade from behind his eyes—the outcome of two sleepless nights in a row. What did he expect, anyway? He already knew whatever Mia was going to tell him will be nothing but bad news. Still, he crossed his fingers and hoped against hope that whatever truth Mia wanted to unfold, it wasn't as dramatic as she made it out to be.

However, that tiny light of hope burned out as he watched Mia, Cassandra and Mr Cookie walk into the ice-cream parlor—that forsaken ice-cream parlor, their faces grim.

Thomas had to double check that the old, dark-skinned man before him was indeed Mr Cookie. What did have to do with anything? Tom's mind reeled back to the time when Mia and Mr Cookie first met, and just how the strange the encounter was.

He almost wanted to sneak out of the place from the back door, chills already running down his spine.

This is bad. So very incredibly bad.

But he steeled himself and forced his body to cooperate with his brain. He stood up and walked up to them briskly, his shoulders stiff and his hands clutched at his sides.

Cassandra asked them what they'd like to have, ordering herself and Mr Cookie coffee mugs, hers with extra cream and his normal black.

After they settled down, Mia shrank in her seat, but her eyes were trained on his, except they weren't really looking at him—it was if she was staring at something in his place and he was nothing but thin air.

Finally, she fiddled with the sleeves of her knit sweater and said, so softly he strained to hear her, "Promise me you won't freak out."

He hesitated. "I won't freak out. I promise."

—>—>—>

Mia had trouble speaking at first, but when she really started, she couldn't stop. She talk and talked, until she was blue in the face. All of them were looking at her, and not once did anyone interrupt her, except for the occasional waiter or waitress who'd ask if they needed anything. Even Cassandra didn't dare part her lips.

She slowed down and attempted half-heartedly to gauge Tom's expression. But he kept his face schooled, stoic. And she wished for anything but. She wanted to know what was going on inside his head, but he wouldn't let her.

She told Mr Cookie and Thomas everything: Abby, Leslie, The Other World, The Centre Of Humanity, their 'missions', their purpose. Every-fucking-thing.

Everything but a tiny, little detail.

Cassandra was supposed to plan Hannah. And it was one thing to tell Tom about Mia and her previous intentions regarding him, but it was a totally another thing to tell him about Cassandra's intentions regarding Hannah. He was going to flip.

No. He was going to do more than just flip, possibly even lock her and Cassandra down in some solitary confinement.

Mia had met Hannah one time, just one, and it wasn't pleasant. And now that she actually dwelled on it, if Tom ever had to choose between Hannah and herself, he wouldn't blink when he picks his step sister.