LIGHT

Chapter 6

"What the hell do you mean you can explain!?"

Vince was everything but calm when I passed back through the portal, shards of metal glass assembling my body like a lego set. He passed out—an actual normal reaction of Vince's when he gets surprised—the second I jumped through the bathroom mirror. Now, in the corner of my bedroom, after a slew of lies told to my parents as to why Vince and I had to bail on the party (something to do with a bad batch of smoothies from Smoothie King), I wanted to finally be up front and honest with him.

Big mistake.

"Vince, listen."

"No, you listen." Both lanky lengths of forearm and elbow directed me to silence. "I just watched you have a full blown Mighty Morphing Power Ranger face off with YOURSELF! Ignore the fact that you just got sucked into a damn mirror, then popped back like a freaking jack in the box toy on steroids! Mind you, your doppelgänger, clone, whatever the hell that thing was, tried to kill me! And just to make matters even more strange, you're trying to tell me that Edward Scissor hands was/is/in some twisted reality world, named after my mom's favorite group of white men,  is your brother! Twin Brother with freaky gold eyes! Please, feel free to stop me when I've missed something!"

"Vince—"

"Wait," he insisted. "There's more. You, my best friend for over a decade, has the freaky gold eye thing going too? And some super crayon coloring box ass power speed that makes you defy gravity, and super strong. All the while we've been getting our asses kicked by Big since elementary school! What's the deal, man! Like, this is a lot to process."

"Nirvana."

"I know, the place named after—"

"No, Vince," I purposely brought the mood back down to earth. If he wanted to understand, I needed him to listen—for real. "Nirvana, Vince, is my home."

"Wait..like..your home home? The home before the orphanage home?"

I just nodded, watching him come back down to my level, finally taking a seat at my desk while I teetered the edge of my bed.

"But, I thought you were adopted."

"I was."

"Zain, most adopted people don't know what home is until after their adopted. How come you didn't tell me?"

"I did."

His face pondered my response for several seconds. I knew my friend. Most people would immediately discern my ridiculously claim. But not Vince. His memory was almost FBI, CIA scary accurate. And I knew the moment I brought back—

"Stone Soldier! Oh my God! That's who that was?"

I nodded again, knowing the imaginary game we played back in first grade would bring all this to a feasible, somewhat believable, halfway comprehensible situation.

"Zain, wtf, man. That stupid game we played was..."

"Real. Yes. In a way."

"But I could never see him—any of it. The playing field, home base, you said all of it was your home. And you said you were the only one who could see the Stone Soldier. I just thought you were being a dick."

See, this is what I hated most about Vince. The fact that he could make any moment funny heated the cold side of me that wanted to stay serious. "No, Vince. He was real. It all was. I just couldn't tell you. I didn't know how. And after that one day at your house..."

"The day I told my parents about the game," regret colored his face.

"Yea. That's the day it all changed."