Awkwarder in Real Life

i have what

Frank looks at me. Amused and pitying.

"You have black wings sprouting out of your back and horns just above your hairline."

Oh. That's new. If he's telling the truth it's no wonder everyone was avoiding me. I'd avoid me too. But that's if he's telling the truth. And he can't be.

"You're lying." He has to be. "People don't grow horns or wings. They just don't."

"You do. Why do you think everyone is looking at you weird?"

"They're not looking at me at all Frank."

"Exactly. Isn't that just a little weird?"

"It is very weird! But not horns-growing-out-of-my-head weird."

"Actually I think it's more the wings that are throwing people off."

"Right. The wings. The wings that I, who theoretically own them, can't see or feel!"

"Wait you can't see them or feel them??"

"No! That, among many other reasons, is how I can tell you are lying to me."

"I'm not lying. I swear. Why would I lie to you?"

"Because this would be a hilarious joke." It would be. Honestly. I'd play that joke on someone. Maybe on him. But he wouldn't fall for it. Not since he'd played it on me.

"Synthia I am not lying to you. I promise."

There was no reasoning with him. He wasn't going to tell me the truth. And the longer we stayed in here with the door locked and the lights off the sketchier things got. I needed to get out.

I turn to the door. To go. To unlock the door and go. But I look at the window in the door. I look at my reflection in the window in the door.

And I promptly turn back around and sit down on a stack of books.

I have horns growing out of my head.