We spent the next thirty minutes on one of the cushy sickbeds in the back corner of the nurse's station. The floor-to-ceiling curtain, decorated with colorful butterflies, was drawn. It was just Reese, me, and a little one-by-one window that let in green light where the building touched a patch of rain-fresh woods. The butterflies danced, the curtain catching the draft coming from the open window. The nurse had cleaned Reese up. The cut didn't look too bad, but still required stitches. So all we really had do while waiting for her mother to arrive was to get to know each other.

Reese had been adopted as an infant and didn't know her real parents. Something I could relate to, in a way, seeing how I didn't know my father. With the help of her adoptive parents, she recently contacted an agency that located lost family members. It wasn't as though she didn't love her adopted family; in fact, she said she couldn't imagine life without them. She just wanted to know where she came from, and if she had any siblings.

All of this I absorbed while offering an occasional word or two of commentary, but mostly I let my friend speak while I nibbled on a peach—the peach that was in the paper bag Micah gave me. I ate slowly, committing every juicy swallow to memory.

Reese wanted me to go to the movies with her next week to see a midnight showing, the same one she'd talked about during lunch. It was premiering Thursday and I surprised myself by agreeing to go.

"I want to give you my phone number," she chirped as the nurse pushed back the curtain to announce her mother's arrival. Taking my phone when I offered it, Reese programmed her number in in five seconds flat. "Wow, you've got a lot of numbers in here," she marveled, scrolling through my contacts list.

I shot the nurse a dirty look when she placed an impatient hand on Reese's shoulder. Why the heck was she in a hurry?

"This one's weird." Reese laughed. She turned the phone around so I could see.

Reading the unfamiliar number, I took my phone back. I touched the entry to expand the information. The contact's name was simply: Guardian. "That is odd," I murmured. It was one I had transferred from Indy's phone.

"Well, I shouldn't keep Mom any longer." Reese wrapped her arms around my hips. "You'll text me so I'll have your number?"

"I'll do better than that," I told her, leaning close to partake of her emotional signature one last time—the strawberries 'n cream scent. "I'll give you a call later this evening."

"Okay!"

The butterflies swung to one side as she brushed past. She gave me one last fleeting smile, and then the nurse helped her through the double doors connecting the nurse's station to the main office, leaving me to stand alone with my backpack at my feet.

Until later, my friend. I exited the nurse's station via the door to the hallway.

* * *

The dripping sound coming from a restroom echoed as I leaned against the wall outside the nurse's office. It had been fifteen minutes since Reese left with her mother. I was fidgeting, waiting for Micah, and growing anxious. My thoughts twisted around the troubling intensity I sensed between him and Alexander BruLagoon. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the contacts for the umpteenth time. The dripping sink stopped, and a heavy silence descended on the empty corridor. I stared down at the peculiar entry: Guardian. It was the same name that had been signed on the Mad Hatter doll's card.

No longer able to stand it, I tapped the screen to dial the number—and another phone sounded right across the hallway. Startled, I looked up, eyes going wide.

Micah.

He leaned on the wall opposite me, phone in his hand. His amethyst eyes were also wide with surprise. "You called?"

I nodded and dropped my gaze. "It's the same."

"What's the same?"

Guardian. My gaze rose, studying him. "The Mad Hatter doll I found in my sleeping bag—the tag was signed: Guardian. You gave me the doll?"

"You missed the old one. I meant to surprise you."

"You do..." Surprised me in every way. "'Though your heart may be lonely, please take solace that the Guardian understands that which he guards...'"

Micah made a sound as my words trailed off, repeating the line from the card on the doll to him.

"You...you think you understand me?"

"I do understand you." He crossed the hallway with a few measured steps.

Bitter tartness, a lingering scent that hinted at frustration, clung to his clothes, making me wonder if he had just come from some sort of confrontation with Alexander. Did my call interrupt them?

"Aurora." My name came out of Micah' mouth as a one-word conviction. "I do understand. Give me the time to prove it to you."

Unsure of how to respond, I lowered my eyes, thinking. He wanted to prove that he knew me? And in turn, what? What did he think "knowing me" would get him?

"Can I see your phone?"

Okay with the request, I extended the phone. The scent of his frustration immediately vanished when our fingers brushed as he took it from me.

"Hmm, the old lady's slipping." With a smile that seemed tinged with disbelief, he handed the phone back after scrolling through the contacts list. "Seems as though a certain someone forgot to omit her cousin's number when she had you transfer her contacts."

"Cousin," I echoed, blinking widely. "Do you mean she's...? Indy is...?" I stumbled about in confusion. I finally just pointed to the corner of my eye in silent gesture.

Micah nodded, at which my hand dropped. I knelt, fumbling with my backpack as I put my phone away. So Indy knew Micah. Then she also must know it was Micah who rescued me from the apartment building.

"Cousins. I...I guess that makes sense." I began to ramble as I fought with the bag's zipper. "I mean, Indy has always had an inhuman side to her—" I popped up from my bent over position in a burst of embarrassment. "I'm not calling you inhuman." I rushed to apologize. "I mean, um, you seem human, except for, well, you know, and um, I don't understand."

My skittering thoughts came to a halt when Micah lifted two fingers to my lips, hovering but not touching.

"I don't expect you would understand." His voice was hushed, patient. "But there are things you should know. They will sound strange at first because they exist outside of what you have been taught to think of as reality. And yet, becoming familiar with them will help you better understand yourself."

I could at least give him a chance to explain before committing to believe anything. "Okay, I'll listen to what you need to say," I agreed, and Micah shifted his hand away from my face. He then moved on to gently lift the hair by my shoulder, combing at it with a downward stroke. Becoming quiet, he didn't say anything more for the longest moment, devoting himself entirely to contemplating the strands that sifted through his fingers as his expression became increasingly worried.

I reached up to take a hold of his wrist. "What's wrong?" His attention shifted, then his gaze slid to the side.

"Micah?" I tilted my head to meet his gaze, reading the angst in it. "You said earlier that you needed to talk to me about something?" I prompted with eyebrows lifting.

Inhaling deeply, his next breath came out tasting of an odd pain. He met my gaze. "I have to leave."

My eyes went wide, and I dropped his hand. "She's transferring you?" I squeaked, horrified.

My legs went weak as a wave of panic left me numb. Micah's hands went to my waist to keep me upright. No! He couldn't leave! I had just found him.

"She can't do this. Indy, she can't—" With my head pressed to his front, I started to gasp, unsure if I was getting enough air, or way too much. "I'm... I'm sorry I saw your eyes," I arbitrarily apologized, as if that would keep him here.

"Aurora, it's going to be okay." My guardian tried to reason with me. He curled his hands into fists at my back. "It isn't what you think."

"But you're leaving me!"

"Please, just listen." The bell for the end of the period rang overhead, piercing me. Micah lifted me off the floor. "Hold onto me, Aurora."

The ground disappeared, and a sudden wind lifted my skirt, blowing my long hair over Micah's shoulder as the hallways rushed around us, becoming an effortless blur. Then the world slowed back down just before students filled the hall.

We huddled in a pocket of space against the wall behind two colossal pillars. My arms were around his neck and we clung to each other like we would never be able to let go. I turned my face into the center of Micah's chest, taking in the warm scent of his skin through his undershirt, now dried from the earlier food-fight incident.

What is this familiar essence?

My hold on his neck became urgent, tugging until he got the message and inclined to my height. Grabbing a fistful of that curly ash mane, I inhaled, and I opened my eyes in amazement. His was the lingering aroma of a late summer storm. The gentle freshness wafting in the coolness of a heady breeze.

"Your scent is wonderful," I mumbled, partaking in another deep breath. Calming, soothing—exciting. Micah's arms tightened around my waist when someone passed within inches of where we were hidden.

"You ate the peach I gave you." His hushed voice slid through his chest into me. I struggled not to shiver. "The juice is on your breath," he rumbled. "I can taste it as if I were biting through the flesh of the fruit itself."

"It was grown locally," I said. Playing with him, I breathed out, now knowing he could smell it.

He closed his eyes and inhaled. "There is an orchard fifty miles south of here," he said, exhaling with a growing fervency.

A girl let out a shriek across the hall as her boyfriend snuck up and grabbed her from behind. I let out a soundless gasp when Micah suddenly whirled us around. He pressed my body against one of the pillars with his strong, lean, protective form, and I let out a shiver then that couldn't be helped.

Good cheddar, he was so warm. "You picked the peach after gym."

"Now what makes you think that?" Micah questioned with his expression going sly. An odd heat radiated from him. The air around us quietly crackled.

"I know because I could taste the rainwater fresh beneath its skin. And your hair—it is damp with the same rain." I swallowed hard. "Which means that somehow you traveled over one hundred miles round trip in what, fifteen or twenty minutes, to get me something to eat?"

Micah's lips spread into a wide grin, and he nuzzled the end of my nose with his as the bell signaling the beginning of next period sounded.

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