Page 2 of Fate and Revel

“Hello,” the woman said, pulling me from my memory. My memories were not like glitches. They were real and grounding and had a connection to my life. I treasured the good ones and held the bad ones somewhere deep in my soul.

“We crossed the bridge,” the little girl cheered proudly.

“I saw that. Well done.” I glanced up at her mom. “Have a nice day.” I headed back to the blanket very pleased that I’d had an actual social interaction, as short and meaningless as it was. I didn’t have those often … by choice.

“I just spoke to two strangers, and I didn’t fall apart.” I held up a hand. “Still steady as a rock. I think I’m learning how to occasionally peek out from my mental invisibility cloak. Pax, are you listening? I’m tossing out valuable philosophical nuggets, and you’re swiping left and right through all your matches on that dating app.”

Paxton was one of those lucky people born with amazing chocolate brown, curly hair and cocoa brown eyes to match. He made a show of putting his phone down and crossing his fingers to show he had no intention of picking it up again during our conversation. He did, however, glance down at it once more before returning his attention to me. “That last one was a cutie, and he’s a physical therapist. I’ve always wanted to date a PT. They give great massages. But enough about me, even if it is my favorite subject.”

I tilted my head in annoyance.

“Oh, but sweetie, you know you’re a close second. I heard you. It was something about your invisibility cloak not being real, which, of course, is a shame because imagine what we could do with a real one.” His eyes turned up toward the sky. It was glacial blue this afternoon.

“You’re imagining yourself walking invisible and unnoticed through the Dallas Cowboys locker room,” I noted.

Paxton laughed. “No, but I am now.” He had a great laugh, the kind that let you know all was not bad in the world if it allowed for such a laugh. Paxton worked in the same office building as me, and as much as I abhorred making friends and a having social life in general, I couldn’t help but bond instantly with Paxton. He was a great shoulder to lean and cry on, as long as he wasn’t going through one of his dating slash relationship crises.

Paxton pushed aside the plate of food. My friend was not the outdoorsy type, so it had taken some coercion, in the form of egg salad sandwiches and boxed brownies, for him to join me on a Sunday morning picnic. He scooted next to me to view the scenery. His aftershave, a fragrance that was occasionally overwhelming but still pleasant, swirled around me. “This place is magical, Rafi. You mentioned that your mom brought you here a lot. I wish I’d met her.” Paxton wrapped his arm around my shoulders. It had been eleven years since my mom’s death, but the pain was still raw and fresh. The details of that day, the day my charmed life ended, were mostly disjointed and blurry. She’d died in a car accident coming home from the store. That was the simple explanation I’d been given after my entire life was ripped to shreds. Her death had left me so scarred, I’d all but pulled into a shell of myself. Fear kept me from ever learning to drive.

“We came here once a month.” The sudden ache in my throat made it hard to get the words out. “Raina and I scattered her ashes near the shale cliffs. We knew this was the place she’d choose to spend eternity.”

I rested my head against his shoulder. “Oh, Pax, do you ever feel like you don’t belong in this world?”

Paxton chuckled. “Sweetie, when I was eight, I used to hide in my sister’s closet to play fashion show with her Barbies. What do you think?”

I lifted my head and wrapped my arm around his. “I guess that’s why we bonded instantly. We’re two peas that don’t belong in this pod we’re stuck in.”

A gust of air pushed through the trees, scattering our napkins and plates. Paxton and I laughed as we chased after a pair of runaway napkins. The gentle breeze that had been tickling us earlier in the day was ramping up to a firm wind.

“I guess that’s our cue to pack up the picnic.” Paxton snatched a runaway napkin, but my paper culprit was still on the move.

I waved back to him. “Start rolling up the blanket.” I stomped forward but just missed the napkin. It bounced teasingly along right between a pair of tall ash trees. I finally managed a productive stomp. “Gotcha, you stinker.”

I swept up the napkin just as a branch snapped behind me. I spun around fast and then stumbled back a few steps. Yellow eyes stared at me from the tree shadows. The breath caught in my lungs, and I was sure my heart was lodged in my throat. I glanced down at the crumpled napkin in my hand. Hardly a weapon against a … I had no idea. Actually, the idea that I had made no sense. There were no wolves in Dante Fell, or for thousands of miles surrounding it, for that matter.

“Sweetie?” Paxton’s voice startled me.

“Stay back, Pax.” My voice was shaky, words flowing out like a terrified trickle.

“Rafi?” He ignored my warning and moved closer.

My face shot his direction. “Don’t come near.” I turned back toward the animal, but it was gone. An ancient, leathery smell still lingered in the air.

Paxton reached me. “Rafi, what’s going on?” He looked in the direction I’d been staring. “I don’t see anything.”

I took Paxton’s hand. “Hurry before it returns.” I pulled him along to the pile of picnic supplies, then glanced back at the trees. Nothing. Had I imagined it? Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at Paxton. “I really am going crazy, Pax.”

Paxton smiled weakly, but he couldn’t hide the concern in his eyes. “Nonsense, Rafi.” He pulled me into his arms and held me. “You’re not going crazy. It’s the rest of the world that’s a little nuts. You’re my best friend, and you are beautiful and amazing and I love you.”

We hugged for a moment longer, picked up the picnic things and started on the trail back to the car. I looked back several times but saw nothing. Like the glitches, I needed to push the incident away.

We turned onto the long curve that would take us back to Paxton’s car. I took a deep breath. “Fudge and Twinkies … the rock.”

I grabbed Paxton’s arm a few seconds before we reached the jutting rock and steered him around it. Paxton glanced over at me. “Let me guess, I was going to face-plant on that rock?”

I nodded. Getting a glimpse five seconds into the future was just another item I could add to my personal catalog of quirks.

Paxton adjusted the sunglasses on his face. “See, if my best friend didn’t have her sixth sense, I would have been face down in the dirt right now, no doubt with a bloody nose and scratched face.”