We visited local art galleries and museums where we gave our verdict on Claus Slutor sculptures, collages and Neue Wilden paintings; the art of Cubism and De Stijl.
Cray was in tune with the world of art. He spoke of it with the same compassion and conviction as any enthusiast. The common factor we shared made me smile with a reassurance that I'd found someone I could truly connect with. Someone I could share my interests and goals with without feeling like a chattering bore.
He appreciated the Mannerist period and I the Renaissance. He favored the American artists and I the European. It was what kept us talking at a debatable speed.
We were looking at a piece by Francisco De Goya beside a woman taking notes when I noticed a girl with curly red hair leading a group of giggling girls. There were seven of them in total, all of them just as scrawny.
Cray eyed them and suddenly had the urge to take the tour-led speech on Guita.
"I want to stay here a little longer," I said, aware of his game to distract me. I just wasn't sure why yet.
"Really? You might miss out." He forced a smile, easing me further through the crowd of tourists. I pushed him in the opposite direction. "Why are we running away?"
He tried to act shocked and did it well. Aspiring actors probably had the knack of playing you like an idiot.
I took his hand and led him to a horrible painting that no one was bothering to look at. "Is that her?" I asked.
"Who?" He looked casually over his shoulder.
"Kellice?"
I was sure even Nebraska could hear her uncivilized cackling.
He nodded and looked over his other shoulder, freezing his gaze on the leader of the girly pack who was admiring the bronzed butt of the Harmodius statue.
His eyes darted back to mine and I thought I saw rage in them. But before I could question it, his expression changed again to perhaps fear, with a hint of something else, something he had wanted me to notice, something that crippled his speech and his focus on me. "So..." I began, just to gain his attention. "Shall we go?" One of us had to be the adult. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "She can't be that bad" I frowned. He hadn't actually said it was Kellice. He had just nodded, but it was obviously her. What was the big deal? Was there something she might want to say that concerned him? Was there something he didn't want me to know about? She didn't seem his type, which made me feel better. She was super model tall, but with a boyish figure. I had always imagined Cray with curvy, exotic type. I realized I'd just described myself. I might be right.
I stepped toward him but she beat me to it, appearing out of nowhere. I guessed that was the idea. Sneakers snatched when you least expected it. And I always seemed to know the person who got taken away from me. The girl I assumed was Kellice was pretending she hadn't seen me.
"Cray," she cried. "Cray, I've been calling you all day." She playfully hit him on the arm and planted a kiss near his lips.
He eased her away. Yet not that much considering we were supposed to be dating and I was who he really wanted. I had trusted him too easily. I stalked away before he could give me lame excuse.

To rattle me all the more, he didn't rush after me. I was half way down the marble stairs when I heard him clamper down them after me. Although it wasn't that much of a clamper. It was more like a glide of feet and brushing fabric. His spicy cologne enriched the humid air, tempting me to forgive him already. "Crys, wait!"
His hand brushed my arm, but I pulled away, being dramatic. I couldn't help how I felt. Liking someone this much brought complications such as these. It made you susceptible of being hurt from the tiniest hint of disloyalty. We had made our feelings official in a short time, but that was beside the point. Strong feelings like this needed nurturing, not scarring. Especially when those feelings were for a guy as experienced as him. Someone who didn't usually commit. Suddenly I hated the way his touch made me react when my mind didn't want to, when it knew better than to give in so easily.
A part of me didn't feel mine anymore. It was his, and it frightened me. "It was a harmless kiss," his voice echoed off the high arched ceiling. I didn't care or want to know the ins and outs of how he saw it. In my eyes, it was an unnecessary kiss near the lips, and one he didn't try to resist.
By the time I exited the doors, he had managed to dart ahead and stand in front of me. "It wasn't how it looked." He panted. "And it happened too fast for me to stop it." Rain drizzled from the accumulated clouds. Cray's eyes blinked away the droplets. I had no way home. Not a dry one.
"You weren't exactly squirming, Cray."
He had nothing to say to that, just as I knew he wouldn't in the first place.
"Just take me back." I was verging on saying home. But home wasn't somewhere you didn't feel fully welcome.
I took a piece of tissue out of my jeans pocket and dabbed the raindrops on my cheeks. To every passerby, it looked as if I was crying. Maybe even to Cray.
He seemed riddled with guilt. I was happy to see it. Although, maybe it was for the wrong reason. Maybe he felt bad for liking Kellice more than he assured me he liked me. Maybe he didn't want to have to choose and let me down and be with her instead.
The inner beatings had to stop. He had to tell me what was going on. "If you want to be with Kellice, go ahead." I shrugged.
He didn't have to know how much that thought upset me. I had to tell myself he was just someone I lusted after and cared for too quickly. But he also wasn't someone I wasn't going to forget any time soon when he chose some bellicose bitch over someone he apparently dreamed about. "Don't be..." He bit his lip. "You have to trust me."
Again he was saying what he had in my dream before he turned on me. Still, I found myself wanting to agree with him. Kind of. His eyes had a way of telling me what I needed to know without a lie detector's wires attached to his head. But I couldn't let him know I was caving. Not yet. "If we want this to work," I said, "you'll have to not give me a reason to imagine anything, Cray. You need to give me a reason to trust you."
He looked at me blankly, probably lost in thought as usual.
"When you give me your word, you'll have to follow through with your actions." I sounded blunt, but I had to be if I was to be taken seriously.

It began raining a little more though it was almost early summer. It was as if the weather reflected my mood here. It wetted the top of his shirt. Cray hadn't moved or spoken. I watched, but nothing happened. What I'd said seemed to have casted a shadow of immense doubt. It was as if I had uttered the forbidden truth that had broken a secret ally between Kellice and him. "I agree," he said finally. "Let's head back to the car. You're getting wet."
He descended the stairs, just as brisk and smooth as he purposefully always did, giving away nothing and creating more nerves to rattle me. It made no difference if, or how, I accepted his reasoning, because it was the kind that always laid more cards on the hypothetical table. More risks.
I sensed he couldn't sell himself short to confide in me, and he couldn't abide anyone's promise. He was to dangle between me and someone else, like a pendant on a chain, a cliffhanger losing its grip. He couldn't give me all of him. Not while I allowed him to selfwallow. We walked to the car in silence, crossing each road and passing each store like strangers
walking side my side, not two people who lived together who had been intimate, romanticizing a future together.
It looked like there could be nothing beyond what he was telling me. The invisible screen he had placed between our paths seemed indestructible, improbable to break.
I wouldn't dare brush his hand or make some insinuation of a contact to defreeze what was icing over what felt like a humongous gap. I didn't understand why I was made to feel like the bad apple in all this, when it was him who seemed rotten with lies.
I didn't understand why I always felt like the traitor, why it hurt to need him so much. We passed Elandra's store since I wanted to see her. Cray slowed down when I came to a stop outside it, which meant he had been paying attention after all.
I asked him to come in and meet a friend I made, someone who had been helping with some family research. He looked skeptical, maybe even a little disbelieving at my friendship with a clairvoyant. But he gave in when I told him he could leave and I would find my own way back to the house.
He didn't raise an eyebrow when he entered the store of hanging stars and jingling fake hawk's heads. He didn't look intrigued either, just there, not really taking any of it in. Although his frown never left him.
The store was brighter in the evening, with florescent blue and orange lights beaming down from the concave ceiling. New wind chimes and dream catchers bordered the now aluminum looking wallpaper.
Upon hearing the door chime, Elandra appeared from behind the hanging black beads at the back of the store. She was wiping her hands with a piece of red fabric that stained her hands brown. She smiled when she saw me, but it faded to a look of horror when she clapped eyes on Cray. The way he looked at Elandra concerned me. It was like he enjoyed her discomfort.
Did she see something bad? Was Cray's future...concerning?
Cray was wearing his cool defense expression, his hands in his pockets. His eyes never left what he made a victim to his gaze. He was becoming another person again. This time someone playful, but darker and with a slight, sly grin.

Elandra straightened her posture and approached us with a smile that tensed the rest of her face. She looked to have shrank in size. She kept her gaze on me as I introduced her to Cray. Her eyes never shifted from me.

I became frustrated by her rudeness toward someone she'd just met. "Is there something wrong?" I asked her.
She scratched her head, perhaps as a way to avoid answering me. Cray yawned behind his hand, clearly bored. His attitude was changing yet again, seeming detached and uncooperative, deliberately.
"Oh, I'm sorry. It's a pleasure to meet you," she said to him, her eyes still avoiding his. Instead, they darted around him. What was with her today?
"Maybe you could give him a reading," I said, noticing her hands were unsteady.
"I'm afraid I'm closing for the day in a short while. Besides, I'm sure he doesn't need any help in foreseeing his future."
If she was set to speak in riddles, there was no point in staying. After telling her I would come back tomorrow, she pulled me back and told me she wanted to speak to me alone. She even suggested driving me home.
Cray was suspicious of Elandra, eyeing her with what seemed like a silent warning before asking me if I was certain. After much deliberating, he left us alone. As soon as he left, Elandra changed back to her usual self, pulling me into the back room.
She didn't give me a chance to sit down. She grabbed me by the arms, her eyes wide. "You mustn't be with him. He's wrong for you." The sentence was a direct command, which I could tell had no room for ifs, buts, or whys. But I had plenty.
"Why, what's wrong? Is he in danger?" I asked in concern for his life, feeling sick at the thought of losing him. I prayed she wasn't about to say it.
"No, but I think you could be if you continue to be with him." She released me to push me down onto the couch beside her." I have a bad feeling," she whispered like he could hear.
"Such as?" I needed more than a feeling. I needed facts and figures, diagrams. Hell, a pie chart. Something to make me understand this overreaction to his visit.
"There's something beyond the surface, a secret he hasn't shared."
I just stared at her in disbelief. I couldn't for one second believe Cray would want to harm me. My heart told me he would rather endanger himself. I just knew it. Luckily, she changed the subject. "As for you, well you're too special for the likes of him."
"How do you mean?" I asked, discomforted by the exaggerated praise.
"Well, don't you see? You're part witch, part Fallion. It would explain the magnificent structure of your build, features, your charismatic presence." I tried not to blush.
"I've looked into this carefully. It's all I have thought about after your last visit. I was going to come by the house and talk to you, but I thought it best I wait for you to arrive. I knew you would. Anyway, I think you're a descendant to the Fallions Crystal, through the Fallion who had a child with a human. It's a small fraction of history I managed to read from the diary. I think you have a purpose to be here in this world as well as Blacksville." She held my hands. "Crystal, we have to find out what that purpose is. If you don't, you could fail miserably and be the cause of a lot of suffering."
I frowned. "Gee. Thanks for saying that so casually."
"Sorry," she said with little feeling. "So?"
"So, what?"
She stood, coiling the red fabric around her hand.
"I think it's time you saw what happened to them, Crystal."

"To whom?"
"To this Fallion and human that created a child called Arrious. You have to find out the cause of their deaths."
"How? I can't, not unless I have a time machine." I chuckled despite how nervous and afraid she was making me.
Elandra sat down again. "There is a way. It's difficult, but it can be done. I can transport you back in time to see what happened. It's a lot like regression, except you'll be seeing other people's lives, not your own."
I shot up and gave myself a head rush. "Are you serious? I can't do that. What if I can't come back or I get stuck there or...or..."
Elandra grabbed my hands. "I'll ask for professional help. I know of a group of people who have tried this once before." "What group of people?" "My coven."
"No. NO! I don't want any hocus pocus covens experimenting on me."
"Oh, Crystal, it's not hocus pocus. Please trust we only have your best interest at heart. We mean no harm. But...I will understand if you feel uncomfortable with a subject. You're new to this. I'll let you think about it. Hopefully, you'll make the right decision while there's still time." I didn't say anything and turned to leave. Elandra pulled me back, reminding me she
promised to give me a lift. I reluctantly accepted, dreading the prospect of driving back to the house with Elandra jabbering on about witches and time travel. It was all too much. I didn't know what to do with all the information. My only way to find a solution was by visiting a bunch of witches who could mentally transport me back to the past. Ironically, I didn't have all the time in the world to think this through, but I needed at least a day or two. Elandra must have sensed my dampened mood. She didn't say a word during the ride back.
She only said, "Take care," before I ran for the door and banged on the knocker as loud as I could. Syd answered. No one seemed to be home but her.
Where had Cray gone? Was he hiding something?
I started to feel unsure again, so joined Syd in the kitchen for tea and homemade pecan pie to ease the tension hurting my shoulders. The dessert was so delicious, I ate all of it. Syd pulled out another steaming pie from the oven, perhaps sensing I needed comforting.
I warned her not to come near me with it if she wanted me to fit through the doorway. She just chuckled, joyous of the fact. She was definitely conspiring to fatten me.
"So," she said, and sat with me at the kitchen table, "I hear you and Cray have become a lot more...acquainted."
Her brief terminology to our relationship left a lot to be desired. It didn't sound like it had been easy for her to say it, either. And I didn't want to talk about Cray. I didn't want to think about how odd he acted at times, how it had seemed like he was silently dueling with Elandra. Besides, Elandra pushing me to meet her coven was still at the forefront of my mind. It had me anxious, eager to do something, but at a pace where I could feel less pressured.
Syd looked at me expectantly. Her hands on the table were dry and worn, lacking their usual softness. I grabbed hold of one to inspect. "Syd, you need to wear gloves or something when you wash up. You're ruining these pretty little hands of yours."
She placed her other hand over mine. It was nice, just what I needed after my last conversation with Cray and Elandra. But then she smiled and it seemed contrived, without a hint of her usual warmth, not even in her eyes. "Are you sure it's a good idea to reciprocate Cray's advances?" she asked.
Was that what she thought of it? Advances? Nothing more? Why did people think so negatively of him all of a sudden?
She must have seen my anger diffuse into a sigh.
"I'm sure you both know what you're doing," she added quickly. "I just thought living under the same roof and then having to live so far away from each other..." I noticed she emphasized the far part as if Cray was the galaxy and I Timbuktu. "...that it may become difficult for you to part ways." Part ways?
I guessed she was right. I needed to stop acting like I was having my first high school crush and think sensibly. I wasn't a teenager anymore...almost. I had to act my age, get a grip on things. Figure out a plan.
I mean, did I know him well enough to feel I could be falling for him so fast? No. I didn't. And that was the problem.
Syd uttered Cray's name again in a dislikable way. He appeared behind me at the door just then, leaning against the frame and breathing heavily. His hair was windswept. His face moist. I think he was weighing up the seriousness of our conversation before speaking.
"Are you trying to put her off me, Syd? Keep me to yourself?" He winked at me and then grinned at Syd who bashfully began to clear the table
"Don't be ridiculous, Cray," she playfully scolded. "I'm just seeing the bigger picture. Crystal is only here for the summer. Have you both considered what you would do then?"
Cray stepped into the kitchen. The scent of his spicy cologne was weaker, dampened by the smell of burned wood, cigarette smoke, and...Kellice's cheap perfume. They were just friends. There was nothing more to it. My stomach still churned.
Cray leaned against the counter, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rolling them into fists.
"No, I can see that you haven't," Syd lectured.
Cray raised his eyebrows at me. "Have you thought about it?" His expression was somehow serious and amused at the same time.
He knew I had thought about it. But I just shrugged, trying not to make any eye contact. Whenever I did, he stared long and hard. My face would heat up and my hands would shake. I didn't want Syd to see me behave like a lovesick pup. She was already convinced I was sick in some way.
"We've discussed it a little," Cray said casually to Syd. "We'll just have to see what happens." He was observing me again, maybe waiting for me to elaborate. Maybe he needed some kind of convincing that I didn't know about. Maybe he was giving me the brush off.
"Well, you should think," Syd rebuked, "very seriously about where this...relationship..." She paused as if finding it difficult to say the last part. She even grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself. Why did my love life matter to Syd? "...You need to think about where this is heading."
"We will," Cray said, his tone low, but commanding the conversation. And though his voice was at ease, his body language wasn't. He was too slumped against the counter top. His hands were still too fisted in his pockets, almost ripping to be let out. To do what, I didn't know.

"Off you go," Syd said, waving a cloth at us. "Both of you. I have too much work to do to be sitting here playing Agony Aunt."
I pushed back my chair and headed for the doorway. Cray followed me. His body temperature was a coiling heat that ran up and down my arms. His hands were on my shoulders, rubbing gently, his thumbs doing circular motions. I wanted to collapse into him, fall asleep and dream I had nothing to worry about.
"Let's go to your room," he whispered in my ear.
I jolted back. Now that we were in the hallway, Syd had closed the door to the kitchen, leaving us in the dimness.
"Why?" I asked, getting tetchy.
"To talk."
"But why in my room?" My voice hitched, sounding strangled, scared, insinuative, totally suspicious, and maybe with good reason. I couldn't do it, pretend to believe Kellice and him were just friends. My insecurities were tucked away deep down, but they were there, like most people. I wasn't being irrational. I was being inquisitive. That was it. This was like a quiz, the kind where I would win my dignity and keep my heart from being trampled on if I got all the answers right. Cray scratched the side of his head. "I thought it would be more private, is all."
"For what?" I stepped back. He stepped forward, his smile automatically making my stomach do a somersault.
"Not for what you're thinking."
"And what am I thinking? How do you know exactly what it is? What do you really, and I mean, really want from me, Cray?" I was sounding suggestive, but I was way too unbalanced by this sudden change in my life, by him.
My comment must have brought something home. He stepped back.
"And where have you been?" I folded my arms, playing the nagging wife well. If I had looked at myself as I did this, I would have cringed, laughed or both. But while I was just me, getting uptight and unable to control what needed to be blurted out of my mouth, I was going to be awkward.
His clothes were bedraggled, his face was wet from the rain and maybe perspiration. I had to know why.
"Why is Kellice suddenly following you like a bad stench? I can smell her all over you." I wrinkled my nose. "It's there, soiled in your shirt, her cheap perfume with the smell of a...a...car exhaust fumes."
I looked away, disappointed with myself for being so stupidly jealous and disappointed with him and everything we did and didn't do. He had to be lying. At that moment I was convinced. I had to have been deceiving myself as well. There was no passionate love affair between us. There was no soul mate that could complete you and give you another reason for living. There was nothing romantic about this situation. We were just drifters, sifting into one another, desperate to be healed in some way.
"If you'll stop answering your own questions, I'll tell you," he said, all too calm
I pursed my lips, waiting for a so-called explanation that I had already decided wouldn't make much sense. I had that much faith. "Can we at least sit down?" he asked.
"I'm okay standing," I said, stubbornly.
"Well, I would like to sit," he said, just as stubbornly back. "And are we always going to discuss Kellice?"

"If you insist on acting erratic, maybe, yes."
He had the audacity to roll his eyes. "If you want answers, I'll be in the drawing room." He walked away. I was expected to follow him. I didn't for a long time. I kept telling myself I didn't need to know anything, that whatever he had been doing was none of my business. But not knowing only made me agitated. It had me reeling out of myself until I didn't
recognize my anguished face in the hall mirror. My eyes and skin were red, blotchy.
I needed answers. And I knew he had them. He knew I was desperate, too, now in more ways than one.
I walked into the lounge and found him pouring a glass of white wine. "Would you like one?" he asked, lifting up the half full glass. Did he always need a glass of wine at hand? I shook my head.
"Suit yourself," he muttered before taking a large gulp.
I sat rigid on the couch. He stayed standing considering he was the one who wanted to sit. He peered into his drink, swirling the glass with his wrist. "I bumped into Kellice again on the way to my friend, Luke's. Her car broke down," he said.
"How convenient."
He stared at me in the way I now found a little affronting. "Please..." he added with a softening his gaze.
I tucked my hair behind my ears and smoothed down the front of my dress. I had goosebumps all over me, but it wasn't for anything titillating. I was afraid of what he was going to tell me. I was breaking out in a sweat. My hands were so clammy they were sticking to my dress. "I tried to help her get the car re-started," he continued.
"Let me guess. You had to take your clothes off and push the car with her on your back."
"You're doing it again," he said, finishing his drink to pour himself another.
"Doing what? Reading it all on your face?" I knew I should have just shut up and kept my thoughts to myself, but I had to air all this, even if I was wrong.
"You can't read me," he said dully, and he was right. I couldn't. Not properly. I hated it. "The car wouldn't start so I drove her home." He poured himself a third drink. Perhaps it was more than that if he had been drinking before I entered. "I'm wet because it's still raining. I'm hot because I'm tired. I'm covered in her scent because she hugged me goodbye."
He turned to look at me. I didn't look back. "What was I supposed to do? Push her away? Say I'm untouchable now? Am I going to need your permission from now on?"
I swallowed my response. I would have preferred him to ask me before any type of touching happened with the likes of Kellice. But he was right. He had to be, didn't he? I wouldn't have wanted him to dictate my relationship with anyone, or misconstrue an innocent embrace. But I had a right to be a little suspicious. I chose not to throw my hands up and have a tantrum. That definitely wouldn't have gone well.
"You're right." I skimmed my eyes over to his. They were getting brighter. He seemed surprised to hear me say it.
"I can't assume you have something going on with Kellice. Every meet, greet and friendly touch can't be scrutinized by my...insecurities." I hesitated on the last part. I didn't like admitting to my malfunctions. No matter how natural and human they were.
"Insecurities?" he asked. His voice had risen with some type of shock or camouflaged agreement.

He was suddenly kneeling in front of me. His warm hands soothed the tips of my cold fingers. "You have nothing to be insecure about, Crys. You're the most beautiful, intelligent, strong-willed and kind person, I've ever met. You've no reason to worry about any of that. It's me that has to, since you could find someone else. Someone better. Someone who knows what to say to you, make you see your worth."
His voice kind of warbled and struck off at the end. I didn't have to wonder if he meant what he said. He was being honest, so honest he couldn't bring himself to look at me. Elandra was so wrong about him.
He wasn't the kind of person who explained a lot or told you everything you needed spelling out. I sensed he didn't give compliments easily usually, either, or maybe he hadn't found somebody to flatter.
But he was saying them to me. And that boosted my confidence. I was learning the hard way to accept myself. I had to learn to accept him in the same way.
"See, you're so much better at compliments than I am," I said with a smile. There was nothing cute about his face, nothing too boyish and too clean cut. He was the rugged handsome I preferred. A young man finding his way and becoming his own person, someone I knew I could always admire and maybe even fall completely in love with someday.