--XXII--

Lights the color of assorted ice cream flavors and cartoon comic book advertisements.

Underneath the droning, broken 7-11 sign that glowed its neon orange, white, and meteoric shamrock green, with black and dark brown brick as her background, I saw her.

Kaylee.

I smiled.

She gripped her arrowvines tightly in her left hand- the hand that was almost as damaged as mine. She wore jeans and a purple jacket tonight; quite a switch from her typical light orange double tank top, shorts and Converses.

I saw her from two miles away, several blocks from Hotel Il Male Nekantral.

#67 DIRTWATER AVENUE LOWDOWN 1216.

I was walking slow, too slow, and only because Caleb's gait was that of a sea turtle trying to carry four crates of McIntosh apples and pie.

TURTLES ARE CUTE YAY

My feet had positioned themselves already and I was already fifty percent in launch position, when I noticed Caleb's arms- which without my cognizance were wrapped around me from behind- and I realized I might hurt him if I fired myself toward Kaylee.

TURTLE = CUTE

DOG = CUTER

: DDDD

"Caleb," I said. "Kaylee's already there. I think the others probably are, too. Let's go."

I rolled my eyes, at both Caleb and at myself. I had to try to be more serious, in his presence. Otherwise, I'd have just melted all the time. Yes, more serious even while thinking about how cute dogs are.

"CALEB."

He only tightened his lock on me, in response. I felt the heavy, hard, and forceful beat of his heart, pressed directly to the back of my shoulder; an driving, intense beat- as fast as it was half an hour ago. It felt exactly the same, still.

ORBIPLOSIONS

I remember when I wanted a turtle for a pet

Dude Kaylee probably be waiting like wth bro

I shook my head for a moment. Was I really still thinking about turtles?

BUT THEY'RE CUTE!!!

We had only minutes until rendezvous. I stood still, feeling Caleb's breath on my hair and the contracting of his muscles and his chin on my head.

"You need to..." he gasped. "You need to slow down."

ME = SLOW DOWN?? = PROBABLY NO

He knew me long enough to know that's just something I don't do.

"You're joking, right?" I said.

I heard the massive smile in his voice when he answered.

"No." He laughed. "No, I'm not."

I watched the flaming magenta and bronze combustiflies slowly buzz and hum all around us like hummingbirds- larger concentrations of them wherever the damaged, flickering streetlights were. These animals literally burned, like Malcolm's deep red mantle did, at times.

The thunder seemed to have stopped... although, for all I knew at the time, I had just experienced the most wonderful, hammering, heart-stopping, superhuman thunder there was out there.

"You know," said Caleb, his voice having dropped to some kind of uncharacteristic breathy whisper, which almost shook on its way out, "There's more where that hammering came from."

Shit.

I broke out of his arm prison. I turned to face him, and we locked eyes.

"Stop being attractive-" I squealed in what sounded like the squeak of a frightened mouse, yet somehow human still and definitely blended with half a cup of embarrassment and a sprinkling of diced fear. "I've gotten enough distraction, thanks."

This marshmallow was melting.

A raccoon- the same one I saw after infiltrating the drug house- trotted mellowly on the concrete in between us. It had a peanut in its hands, which it then left on top of one of my old, beat-up black sneakers.

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I decided to name it Happy. Happy the raccoon scuttled away before I could pat him or hug him or get him another popsicle. Half-popsicle. I watched his gray-and-brown-and-white fur disappear beneath some toppled veneers outside a long-abandoned antique store.

White fur. I remembered Crayon- Crayon and Skittles. The best two white-fur family members anyone could have ever possibly asked for. These two big fluffies weren't just dogs, to me. To me, they were protectors and friends and bodyguards and training buddies that followed me whenever I'd roundoff to whip with a full to back handspring my way to the beach or to the library.

Combustiflies hovered in midair, their flames illuminating the look of abject, acheronian dismay on Caleb's face.

Guilt clutched at me; I wasn't yet sure why exactly.

"What?" I said.

"That's all it was to you?" he replied.

"What do you mean?" I said.

The stubble of yellow and silver hair on his cheeks was still glistening, and not with rain but with sweat; I watched him breathe- breathe almost desperately- for several moments that to me seemed almost endless, before he finally spoke to me again.

"Distraction," he said.

I rolled my eyes up to the sky. Still somewhat cloudy. Very dark purple. Wherever the moon was, she wasn't above us, tonight.

I didn't see what the point to this conversation was.

"No," I replied. "Of course not. You read my mind, too."

I buttoned up his jacket, which his father cleaned up for me. Scott.

I continued.

"So you know it," I said. "You already know."

"Well, it hurts," he demanded. His accented particularly displayed itself at the word well. His voice was slow, was heavy. Was deep. Almost the perfect exact opposite to mine. Not quite growling, not like Malcolm's, also not too lullaby, like his sister's. Lullaby's not an adjective. Is lullaby an adjective? His voice was molasses; mine was butter, and soft bread. "It still hurts, to hear you say it like that."

"Like what?" I said.

I saw something I hadn't seen before; hadn't seen in a lifetime. His eyes- which shone just like ice on what we called a freezeover day in the Overwoods- changed.

I was scared. I was worried that perhaps, and for all I've seen this was nowhere near impossible, he might turn into a giant waterproof earthbending omnivorous rabbit and eat me. I had no idea what it was, until I realized it was just water- a coat of tears, in front of the silver and gray and blue sea- the sea I was so completely, totally, absolutely lost in, in only the last hour. I had never been so drowned in any sea in my life, the way I was tonight. The sea that to me, was my only approximation of love, of safety.

"Hey." I put my hands in his jacket pockets, looked down at the little peanut Happy gave me as a gift, and inched toward him slowly; to let him put his arms around me because I think he liked doing that. I liked it, too. Most of the time, at least.

His arms were maybe twice the size of mine and in most situations a thought like that caused me only fear, and an intense, screaming urge to run away. That's not what I felt this time, as he once again put them around me.

"Say something to me," he said.

I looked up, to see the water was still in his eyes. But he was smiling again.

"You were in my mind again." I didn't like it. But it's not like there was some other way I would've turned this around so soon, either. "Weren't you?"

"Say something to me," he repeated, his voice slurring and mumbling, like Connor's or Belinda's or Henry's voices did- when they were too intoxicated- though neither of us consumed alcohol.

"I love your accent," I said. "Like, so much. It's unimaginable." I felt like an animal in a trap- possibly a marshmallow cat. Or a cat marshmallow. The instinct to slink away and fly was overbearing. "It's insane. It drives me mad. Like, in a good way. Can you let me go now?"

"No," he said.

"I love you, Caleb," I said.

He looked down at me. A tiny drop of water fell from his left eye and into mine; I had to blink it away. His smile was forcing crow's feet next to his eyes. I had them, too, even at eighteen. I smiled a lot.

"Please don't laugh because I love your laugh so much," I squeaked. I was virtually choking in my own misery and embarrassment. "And really, just don't. We have a killer to catch and I owe your sister some kind of flower vase now that we're late."

And I had a train picked out already if we didn't catch this murderer. And/or rapist.

Caleb's voice dipped low, lower than it was already by default. He gripped my arm, hard, the right one- because he knew if he did the same to my left arm or wrist, it would hurt- and his smile was gone; in a flash, in that single moment.

"What was that?" he insisted.

"What?" I said. "What was what?"

His eyebrows furrowed. They were the same color as corn in a sunlit field of puppies and grass and foxgloves and columbine- yes puppies like the small dogs- on a happy, clear, sunny yellow afternoon. They were the color of sunflowers.

"Your last thought. The one just now." He was some combination of angry and afraid, and he was trying to keep the angry part under control so as not to scare me away. Doesn't matter. I wasn't going anywhere. "Something about a train."

He wasn't tuning in. Wasn't listening close enough. I shut him out of my mind and put on a smile.

"Trains are funny," I said.

I laughed- an insane, anarchic laugh that was way too pronounced and I can just about guarantee Kaylee and Sam and Wyatt (and Connor, wherever he was) all heard it too and perhaps assumed it was some random, unimportant, homeless, prostituted vagrant beggar- which, of course, I was- because of its sheer volume in decibels and its high pitch.

"You shut me out. You shut me out again, and you don't do that." He was demanding an answer. One I wasn't really sure I had for him. I could see him trying hard not to sound or look like he was yelling at me, which I appreciated. "Chris, what's going on?"

I said nothing with a smile on my face.

"Chris." He was pleading now. "Talk to me."

I'm not that important was on the tip of my tongue, but that would have been a giveaway. So instead I said:

"We need to catch this guy or gal, Caleb. We're fine. I just don't want my random train thoughts distracting anyone that might want to read this mind, tonight. Okay?"

Unconsciously, I ran my hands up his arms, slowly, and took his face in my hands, just because I wanted to. My body did it before I knew it happened. There was too much void inside of me, to feel embarrassment now.

He probably had a lot to say and we didn't have the time, so I spoke before he could.

I wasn't sure if he could tell how much my own words were cutting me into little pieces as I spoke them, still smiling. "Race you there."

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