I didn't have much time to fret over if this potion was actually going to work or not since I was pretty consumed in my parting farewells. I trust Sephora with her alchemy or whatever magic she uses, but there's always that slight percentile that says it might be a fluke.

Thankfully, my minor worries are frivolous.

Hearing the birds chirping around us, smelling the fresh woods, and seeing the small, tired trailer on cement blocks is the best scene I've ever experienced. For once, the return isn't a rough landing and don't mind the people I came back with.

"Yay, we made it!" Clifford cheers, running around like a squirrel.

I let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God."

Everything feels so natural in this moment, so familiar. From the sun reflecting off the satellite dish on top of the trailer, to Clifford prancing through the woods like a goof, to being right next to the one person I now know I can't live without. It's home.

"Clifford," I call to him. "Stop running around and go inside, I'm sure you need to change before you go home."

He pauses, looking over at me, then grins.

"I'll beat you to it!"

Shaking my head ruefully, I glance at Xalale and smile.

"We should walk him back home so he doesn't get into any trouble."

He glances back at the house, that faint ghost of amusement riddled on his face as he replies, "Perhaps."

So we head inside to bathe and change so we can head out again. Only about two or so hours have passed since we left, so Clifford begs us to come with him into town and explore for a bit.

Instinctively, my throat tightens a bit at the thought of going into town with Xalale back with me, but I quickly override that fearful instinct. I have nothing to be ashamed of and if they expected me to shuffle into town with my tail between my legs, they were soon to be surprised.

Clifford is his usual hyperactive self, pulling at us, telling us to hurry up as though the town might disappear if we don't. Entering the town this time juxtaposes how uncertain it felt passing the welcome sign the first time. Of course, people still stare, whispers still travel, and people pause to give awkward fake smiles, but it doesn't get under my skin as much- it's also not as bad as the first time. I guess Cauldron just needs time to adjust, to accept change and become normalized with strangers; besides, Rome wasn't built in a day and I, myself, am still finding out new things about Cauldron.

"Let's go to the park," Clifford begs. "I bet Tucker and Otis are there."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a surprising but interesting sight.

"You two can go, I'll be there shortly."

So as Clifford drags Xalale off to the park, I cross the street and make my way over to the two individuals that caught my eyes. It wasn't that they were doing anything out of the ordinary- they're just window shopping- it's the fact that it's the two of them out together.

"Hey," I interrupt their bubbly whispers and peering into the shop window. "What are you guys doing out here?"

Turning around to face me, they both smile. Ruthford with his crooked yet cute-in-a-way smile and Fall with her mousy yet warm grin. Now that they're facing me, I can see they're both holding containers of what I assume to be some of Ruthford's homemade yogurt.

"Hi," They greet me in sync.

They smile at each other, holding back a giggle like they have this in the loop knowledge before Fall speaks up.

"We're just hanging out, window shopping."

"Without the actual shopping," Ruthford adds, pushing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.

"Enjoying some of Ruthford's homemade yogurt. Have you tried this stuff, it's really good. He has a gift I didn't know people could possess."

A noticeable blush rises up his neck as his eyes dart along the ground.

I hold back a knowing smile. I see exactly what's going on here, but I won't embarrass either of them (I'm not entirely sure I wouldn't make them die of their own embarrassment).

"Yeah, I've tried a few samples," I reply. "I'm not a big yogurt fan, but his are pretty good."

Her eyes shine. "Yeah, pistachio is my favorite."

She says it more to him than me but it's probably better that way, the sound of pistachio flavored yogurt still makes my stomach churn.

"What are you doing in town?" He asks me.

"Oh, just hanging in the park."

"Is Axel with you?" Fall asks. "If he is, tell him Fall says hi. He remembers me, right?"

"His memory's on par with an elephant's- he'll remember you."

She looks relieved.

There's still an awkward air being with these two, but I can sense a definite change in their behavior; plus, they're certainly not shy around each other anymore.

"Well, I'll see you guys around," I say, starting to turn to head to the park.

"You too," Fall waves.

"You're welcomed anytime at my house," Ruthford chimes in. "I always have samples ready."

Looking over my shoulder with a smile, I reply, "I'll take you up on that offer, thanks."

As I cross the street over to the park, I can't help but shake my head in amused amazement.

"Who would've thought?"

Like Clifford guessed, Tucker and Otis are in the park as well and they're, of course, gathered around Xalale, chattering away to him. I still honestly don't know what draws them to him, he barely can get a word in between their constant conversation and he doesn't do anything spectacular to draw their attention, but I guess kids can sense these things about people.

"-huge fly I tell ya, it's about the size of my fist!"

Tucker is always in the middle of a tall tale, it doesn't take him long to get into one, and Otis is trying to debunk it while Clifford prattles on about who knows what. I will say, Xalale has more patience than me when it comes to children- and that's eyebrow-raising.

"Mallory!" Clifford cries causing the boys' attention to snap to me. "How does Xalale spell his name? He won't tell us."

I look at him, "He won't?"

"No!" They all cry in unison, desperate for this answer.

I share a look with Xalale, who seems amused at this. I don't know what will come first: them finally spelling it correctly or him giving them the answer (I'm thinking neither).

"Well, I forgot how he spelled it so you'll just have to rely on him for the answer," I tell them, teasing them some more.

They groan in protest, practically begging for the answer.

"I'll only tell me if you find me a fly the size of your fist," He tells them.

While Otis continues to groan, Tucker perks up.

"Alright, it's a deal!"

"Now we're never gonna know," Otis grumbles. "Tucker, you can't find and catch a fly the size of your fist."

"Yes I can, now come on."

He races off with a doubting Otis and a cheerful Clifford following behind.

I take a seat next to him now that we're alone, a smile still on my face.

"And you call me an instigator?" I tease. "You're a troublemaker."

"Says an instigator who lied about forgetting the spelling of my name."

I shrug. "Touché."

As we sit surrounded by the flurry of the park, the children playing, the people talking, nature thriving around us, a thought hits me, one that should have manifested before now. Instead of sweating it, though, I calmly look at him and ask-

"Do you want to meet my parents?"

He looks at me with question.

So I repeat. "Do you want to meet my parents? You probably should if...this is going to work. It'll be easier if we don't have to sneak around everywhere, you know. Plus, they're really nice and pretty accepting of strangers for Cauldron folk."

He thinks about it briefly before responding. "If you want me to."

Returning my attention to the activities of the park, I smile, resting my head against him. "It'll be fun, I promise."

"How come I feel more nervous about this meeting than him? They're my parent!" Every time I steal a glance his way, I don't detect any last minute jitters or any perplexity in his eyes- the only windows to his true emotions.

We ended up spending most of the day in town, hanging in the park then stopping by the Methodist church (he really seems to like it there) then eventually heading back to the park and walking Clifford home. We still had time to waste afterward so I suggested visiting Ruthford's house. Thankfully, he was home- Fall had gone home since it was getting late- and he allowed us in for a while until his uncle came home. His uncle must not have been born in Cauldron because he was completely cool with Xalale being there. So we mostly talked in the kitchen (and by we I mean mostly me starting the conversation- men just can't hold conversations for their lives). Finally, we left just as his dad was coming inside. His dad was surprised but did fairly well considering how he could have responded to a stranger in his house.

Now, we're heading back home where my parents should be since the work day is over. I'm secretly hoping they're not home yet, but as we turn down the gravel drive, I spot both their vehicles.

"How are you feeling?" I ask him as we make our way down the drive.

"You seem uptight," He comments, no clear-cut emotions from him.

"We're not talking about me, we're talking about you. How do you feel?"

"I'm fine."

The worst part is that he sounds like he's fine too, which should be what I want him to be, but it's the fact that he's truly not as fazed as I am. I guess it all goes back to the old saying, ignorance is bliss. I don't expect my parents to pull out a shotgun, but I've never been in this territory before with them so I don't know what their reaction is going to be.

Before we can head up the creaky porch stairs, which are sure to give us away early, I pause at the foot of the porch.

"Thanks for doing this," I begin. "I know this probably seems intimidating but it means a lot to me that you want to meet my parents. They're very kind and my mom's really-"

"Mallory."

He gets me to pause from my nervous rambling.

"It will be fine."

Closing my eyes and taking a breath, I nod, "You're right."

Glancing at the light-filled house then back at him, I shake my head. "They're my parents, not yours. Why am I so nervous?"

"My point exactly."

"Okay," I have to remind myself not to naturally take his hand as I lead him inside. "Here we go."

Tentatively entering the house, we wait in the front foyer as I shift my weight, building up the courage to call out for them. The TV is playing as I hear my dad getting comfortable in his chair in the family room while the water runs in the kitchen where my mom is.

"Mom, dad, I have someone for you to meet."

Already, I'm regretting the word choice. I don't want them getting the wrong idea- which would actually be the right idea- before it's ready to come out.

The water stops running and soon my mother stands in the doorway.

So far, the only reaction I'm seeing from her is surprise but that's to be expected. Even as she approaches with a friendly smile and an extended hand to shake, that surprise is still present.

"Hi, I'm Fran."

Xalale returns her handshake, doing fine so far. "It's an honor to meet you. Mallory told me quite a bit about you."

"I did?"

"She did?" My mom's eyebrow raises in interest. "That's a first."

"She told me the advice you give her and you sound like a very wise woman."

My mom finally glances at me and I can catch every unspoken thing she's saying to me just from her expression.

They go in order as such: Who is this man? He looks very presentable. "Someone" for us to meet? How long have you known him? What's his name? He's very charming.

I don't bother addressing any of these questions and statements and, thankfully, she's not asking them outright, instead, she calls for my dad.

"Michael, your daughter brought a guest over."

"I'll be right out, it's about to go to commercial."

"My husband loves golf," She explains. "He doesn't play it, though."

"Hm."

Usually, my mom can make small talk, but I can tell this has thrown her completely off her game so she calls out for dad again.

"Michael."

"I'm coming."

Seconds later, I can hear him getting up and walking, in no hurry, to the foyer. His begrudging attitude instantaneously disappears the second he takes in Xalale.

He gives my mom a bewildered look. "She brought a guy over?"

"At least mom had the decency to keep her thoughts hidden."

And this might be why I was more nervous about this meeting. They're probably going to embarrass me more than him.

My mom nods, still wearing a friendly but off-guard smile.

Recovering from his shock, my dad offers a handshake to which Xalale returns it.

"I'm Michael Ryders, her father."

"Xalale Domshov."

The name always gets everyone. My parents exchange a look.

"Are you the foreign one they've been gossiping about in town?" My mom asks.

"I wasn't aware of the hearsay."

My mom waves a dismissive hand. "Oh no, I hate the gossip. I hope the people here have been welcoming."

"Some more than others."

"Sounds about right for Cauldron," She chuckles.

I do feel a little bad for my parents, I've just put them in a sudden awkward position with no warning. Oddly enough, I think Xalale is the most relaxed in this situation.

My dad must still be recovering from his shock because he asks, "Do you want to join us for dinner? It's about that time and we always have room at the table."

Xalale looks to me and I look to my mom who exchanges another look with my dad before answering my unasked question which I then silently relay to Xalale.

"Only if it's no trouble," He replies.

"No, it's no trouble at all," My mom quickly says. "You don't have any food-based allergies, do you?"

"I'm not aware of any."

"Good, I'll just finish up dinner and then we can sit down and eat."

"Sounds good, mom," I tell her, hoping to get her back in the kitchen already. Both of them need time to collect their bearings- they're out in the deep end right now.

My dad excuses himself to use the bathroom and so I lead Xalale into the family room to wait for dinner. We hardly say a word to each other, but we can read each other mentality.

I guess my parents just lose their heads when I bring someone of the opposite gender over unannounced. Thankfully, they seem to have collected themselves by dinner and they're more like I expected them to be- like investigators. It's one question after the next with them and I'll give Xalale credit, he's cool-headed through it all- and even a little charming at times (surprise surprise with that one). I think the thing that tripped my parents up the most- like made their eyes widen subtly enough to the point where I noticed and they looked at me in question of my judgment- is when they found out he's twenty.

"Just turned twenty," I add like that would soften it. "Like, freshly twenty."

Other than that, they seem like they like him but I won't really know the truth of the matter until he leaves. I already gave him enough money to board at the motel for tonight so he'll spend the night there.

"It was very nice meeting you tonight, Xalale- that's how you pronounce it, right?" My mom says.

"Yes, and it was a pleasure meeting the both of you," His eyes linger on me before he turns and walks down the steps.

Honestly, I'd rather we switch places now. I don't know what they're going to say to me about this.

The first part I kind of expected. They sit me down and we have the awkward dating, liking guys discussion which I try to shut down with the "just friends" argument but they drag me through the rest of the discussion anyway. The second part I wasn't expecting. Instead of the guy discussion being followed up with the you-can't-see-him-anymore clause, I get-

"It's nice to see you getting out more."

Unexpected (and subtly insulting) but not bad to hear.

"He seems like a respectable young man," My dad says. "Very well-spoken for a guy his age."

"He did seem well-mannered," Mom agreed. "You said you met him in the park?"

"Actually, in the woods just out of town."

"What were you doing out there?"

I shrug. "Just trying to clear my head."

They don't say any more on the topic which is good yet unsettling at the same time. Like, do they not mind me seeing him? Do they expect me to not want to see him? Are they still suspicious that there's more going on? I'm left somewhat in the dark but I know better than to ask questions.

As they head to bed later, I can't help but silently thank God that they seem to like him. Going to bed that night, I even shoot a grateful, giddy pray up. Everything finally felt like it was working out.

The next day is Sunday, which means my parents are home for the day- but thankfully we don't bother going to church. I want to get dressed and dash out the door to go to Xalale, but I'm still on uncertain grounds about what my parents expect and if they're actually cool with me going out to find him.

At first, I let it sink to the bottom of the day's conversations, but by the time afternoon hits, I'm dying from the unspoken rules. Xalale's probably wondering where I am- I told him to wait for me in town- and here I am not trying to see where my parents stand on this.

Finally, I take a breath, steel myself then enter the family room where they're getting ready to go for their afternoon walk.

"Mom, dad," I get their attention.

"It's now or never, Mal."

"I'm going to see Xalale in town, he's probably waiting for me. Is that cool with you?" I make sure to add the last part so as not to sound too demanding.

They exchange a look before my mom speaks up.

"What are you going to be doing?"

"Just hanging out in the park most likely. Clifford's probably going to come along as well."

They exchange another wordless look that only married couples can do.

Finally, my mom sighs.

"I know what you're going to say when I say this, that it's strictly a platonic relationship, but just don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"Don't do anything you wouldn't do if your mom and I were there," My dad pipes up, giving me a cautionary look.

Though I want to dispute their truthful accusations, I'm still waiting for the final word.

"So is that a...?"

"It's a 'yes', you may go," My mom finally says.

I restrain myself from showing too much joy at hearing that answer, trying to blow them off.

"Thanks," I hurry to head to the door but pause to call back. "I'll see you guys later."

"Hands to yourselves," My dad calls back. "Tell him that and love you too."

Smiling to myself, I rush out the door and hurry into town, not wanting to waste another minute. I swing by the motel first, but when I don't find him there, I ask Mr. Recaro where he went. He, of course, knows since people are nosy about every little detail regarding the stranger in town.

"He went to the park. Told me to tell you if you came by. Say, Mal, how do you know this-"

"Thanks, Mr. Recaro." I'm already racing out the door to head to the park.

The park is crowded, as is usual on the weekends, and there's so much going on that I can't find him in the thick of things. When my name is called out, thinking it's him in that split second, I swirl around only to be faced with Doug and Libby.

"Hey," I greet them still searching the faces of people. "Have you seen Xalale around here?"

He shrugs. "Nope, sorry."

"Hey, Mal," Libby speaks up. "I was just wondering if you'd be interested in coming over my house for karaoke tonight? My parents always host karaoke every other Sunday, it's tradition."

"Karaoke?"

"Yeah," She buddy nudges me. "It'll be fun. Plus, bring your parents and Axel."

"Xalale doesn't sing."

"Well, just bring him over anyway," Doug says. "Him and I can sound awful together, I wouldn't mind."

I smile, "I would pay to hear him sing, but first I have to find him."

"True that. We'll leave you to that then."

He starts to drag Libby off but she pipes up again.

"Oh, if you know anyone who would be willing to sing then invite them. My house, 7 o'clock, don't be square."

"Will do."

As they head off, I refocus my attention on finding Xalale.

Since every time we've frequented the park it's been in a different location, I'm not entirely sure where he would be likely to hang. I decide to start near the playground, just in case Clifford ran into him first.

On my way to the playground, I spot Fall standing near the drinking foundation holding a professional, expensive looking camera. Though she wears shades that block her eyes, I can tell she's on the lookout for someone.

"Hey, Fall," I approach her. Since she appears so watchful, I hope maybe she might have seen Xalale pass by at some point. "Have you seen Xalale at all?"

Her eyes continue to prowl, "No, I don't think so, sorry."

"Oh, okay, thanks anyway."

I turn to go but she stops me.

"Have you, by any chance, seen Ruthford?"

"No, why?"

She holds up her camera. "He promised to help me take some nice pictures today."

"Oh, well, I'm sure he's-"

"There!" She exclaims, a wide smile adorning her face.

Turning in the direction of where she's pointing, I see him rushing over to us, his face flushed from running in the heat.

"I thought you forgot about me," She grins.

Pausing to take a drink at the foundation, he shakes his head, giving her a crooked smile. "How could I? Sorry, I'm late."

He, of course, takes notice of me, greeting me in his usual fashion.

"Do you know where Xalale is?" I ask him.

"I haven't seen him, I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

With no leads, I place my hands on my hips as I scan the crowd, trying to catch sight of him somehow.

Just as I'm about to part ways with the duo, I remember Libby's open invitation.

"Hey," I face them again. "Are you guys doing anything at 7 tonight?"

They exchange a look then shrug at each other before shaking their heads at me.

"No," Fall answers. "Why?"

"Libby's hosting a karaoke party at her house at 7 and she said to invite people who might be interested, so I'm inviting you guys. You wanna come?"

They both look at each other again before Ruthford replies with a shrug.

"Sure, why not."

I smile, glad they were coming as well. "Awesome. I guess I'll see you guys there then. Good luck with your photography."

"Thanks." They call.

Continuing my search to the playground, it's not too long before I spot a familiar group of boys hanging near the swings. I know I'm probably interrupting another outlandish tale from Tucker that's being refuted by Otis, but I know they've probably seen Xalale.

Before I can even get out a word, Clifford straightens up upon noticing me.

"Hey, Mal, have you seen Axel anywhere?"

If they're asking me then they've probably haven't seen him either.

"I was just about to ask you guys that. I don't know where he is right now, sorry."

"Maybe he'll come around later," Otis shrugs, toying with his baseball mitt.

I'm already thinking about where he might have gone off. "Yeah, hopefully."

"Are you going to find him?" Clifford asks.

"Hopefully, why?"

"If you find him, tell him that I need him. I want to do something and he's the only one that can help me."

"Okay, sure."

"First I gotta find him, though."

Tucker starts back up his tall tale as Otis groans and Clifford swings on. I move away from the playground, completely mystified to where he might be.

I walk the perimeter of the park twice and still don't run across him.

One person I wish I wouldn't have run across slithers his way up to me as I take a seat on the bench to think.

"Fancy I would see you here."

I barely pay him any mind.

"Fuck off, Houser, will you."

"All I did was sit down. Such a hostile creature."

I decide the best course of action is to just ignore him.

Though I'm giving him the cold-shoulder, he continues rattling on like a noisy cuckoo clock. His ego must have recovered from the last time we spoke.

"Actually, I'm not too surprised that you're here. Where trash is, flies follow."

I toss him a narrowed eye, scalding glare but don't take the bait. He doesn't need me to, though.

"I saw your boyfriend here not too long ago," He said casually, crossing his legs as he inspects his trimmed nails.

That catches my attention but I downplay my reaction with a blasè tone.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, and I saw him walk over to the Methodist church. Is he religious?"

I wouldn't have expected him to go there, but he was rather intrigued with the building the last time we were here.

Finally, I look at him. "What's it to you?"

He gives me a reptilian grin. "Nothing, simply curious."

"So you're stalking him now?"

"Merely observing his movements."

He's pretty complacent with himself today which is a sign I should get up and just head to the church right now, but I stick around.

"So stalking him, okay."

"Just taking extra precautions. You might want to check if anything's missing from the church- they have a lot of nice things there."

I'm not in the mood for it today, I never am.

"Look, I know how much you probably want to suck a dick but just leave him and me alone."

Unlike before, he's not flustered by this and so he calmly replies-

"Maybe, but I know you're already sucking his."

I deserve a medal for how much restraint, physically and facially, I have. I cannot let him rattle me- he's not worth my rage.

"Listen, Houser," My voice gets tighter with each word. "I'm going to let everything slide today- my gift to you- but just fuck off, okay?"

I get up, walking away as he pipes up, not knowing when to take the olive branch.

"Oh, I'm so lucky aren't I?

Turning around, I respond, "Yeah, look at that, you must have a horseshoe shoved up your ass."

I'm out of earshot so he can't fire back the way he wants. I'm proud of myself, though. I restrained myself from knocking Franklin Houser out in the middle of the park. I think I deserve an award for that.

Arriving at the Gothic church, I quietly enter into the sanctuary where not a single soul stirs except for one lone figure sitting in the front row, staring straight ahead at the stained glass window and life-sized wooden cross.

I'm not a spy or anything- especially in this drafty, resounding church- but you would have thought I was by the way I startle him.

"It's just me," I say, holding my hands up innocently. I slowly sink down onto the hard, wooden pew next to him. "What are you doing here?"

He refocuses his attention on the front of the room for a second until he looks at me.

"I needed someplace quiet to think."

"Oh."

No wonder this place always drew him in- it was a perfect oasis for someone like him.

We sit in silence for several minutes, with him studying the details of this place with a critical eye while I tried to keep the blood circulating to my butt. I decide to break the silence since nothing of importance is happening.

"Okay, I know you don't sing," I begin. "But Libby is hosting a karaoke night at her house and I thought it'd be fun for us to go."

Like I expected from the side glance he slides my way, he's not thrilled with the idea but he doesn't flat out shoot it down, though he doesn't respond either.

"Will I ever hear you sing?" I groan in frustration.

It may be the lighting, but I notice a hint of an amused smile on his face at being able to hold this over my head.

With no reply, I face the front again, studying the stained glass mural of the last supper in the background. It's in this stillness, though, that I can fully appreciate how far we've come.

It's actually wild to think about how in the course of what felt like a month or so- but was actually a blip in time- I've been through life-altering events. I entered this summer not expecting anything more than pocket change and a headache (which, I won't lie, have been more than a few times recurring), but seeing everything now, I wouldn't do it any other way- I don't know any other way of doing it.

From Elle and Coxen, to Clifford and Ruthford, to Xalale, and everyone in between, I've seen a lot more than I've seen in sixteen years of life. And the crazier part is I almost missed out on all of it if I didn't fall through some space warp in my backyard.

With these thoughts in mind, I smile to myself but am startled when Xalale speaks up.

"Gone rings the bell, ring in jubilee. Down goes the tyrant's banner proud. Cheers to the valiant hero who has fought so bravely."

It's only until my mind catches up to the moment that I realize, with surprise and excitement, that he's singing. Like I assumed (no, knew), he sounds amazing- like he never missed a note in his whole life. The song he sings carries some interesting lyrics that I pay attention to.

"Our kingdom never rocks, it never wavers, the Fates have promised goodness and favor."

It's short but I'm satisfied.

I give him a knowing look. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

He gives me a look, but I sense the faint curve of a smile he's hiding.

"Now don't ever ask me to sing again."

"But will you still come to karaoke?"

Finally, he lets his smile win out as he replies. "Only because you asked me to."

Smiling back, I go in for a kiss which he holds. It's him and me and peace of unexplainable proportions.

"I love you," He murmurs, his breath fanning against my cheek.

"I love you, too," I mutter, losing myself to him again.

Dreams. They're beautiful things to have. You create them and can make them to your liking. It's scary when you start to lose control of them but when you have a choice of whether to keep white knuckling it or discover something better, well, I'd say go explore the possibilities.

Yeah, dreams, they're nice to have, but direction is the ultimate goal.

[End of The Twisted Souls Trilogy]