"I could always find a good excuse, I could always find something to use," Good Charlotte sang out of my alarm clock. I reached my hand out and pressed the button, silencing the room. I sat up and took a deep breath in. Time to go see Mika again.
Mika once again came in right in time. I was staring down at the city below through the window wall the face outward as he came in, and I turned to face him. I didn't say anything, just stuck out my hand. He smiled and came toward me, pulling out a single typed page.
"Hello, children," the woman says, slipping off her sunglasses. I recognize those eyes. "Hey!" I exclaim, "You're me!" The woman stares me, and her eyes narrow, her lips thinning. I gulp. "No," she says, taking off her gloves casually, then looking back up at me, "I'm not. That wouldn't make any sense, now would it?" I shrug, feeling scared. "You're right there," she says, motioning to my position next to Mika. He tightens his grip on my hand. "And I'm right here." She motions to herself. "Therefore, I could not be you." I'm not convinced, but I don't want to argue with the cold glare this woman is now giving me, waiting for me to reply. "Oh," I say, quietly. She look me up and down, and then does the same to Mika. "Do you kids need a ride?" she asks. My eyes widen. "No, ma'am, I don't think so," Mika says, his voice strong and brave, though I can see the fear in his eyes. "Oh, it's no problem," the woman says, looking away from us, towards the road in front of her, slipping her gloves back on, and then her sunglasses. She looks back at me, and though I can't see her eyes, I find myself narrowing my own, and I see the reflection of my eyes in her sunglasses, icy and disturbing. I shudder and pull back. "No problem at all," she says now, looking back towards the road again. Mika glances at me and tugs on my hand. I look at him and find myself leading him to the backseat of the car, opening the door and pulling him in with me. "Wait," he says, tugging on my hand, trying to get back outside, "what are you-"
"Shhh," I whisper to him quickly, looking back at the woman. Mika looks at her too, and pulls his door closed, reaching over and buckling my seatbelt for me. He leans back in his seat and does his own. "What's your name, miss?" I ask as the woman turns her key in the ignition, and the car rumbles a low noise. She glances at me in the rearview mirror from behind her sunglasses. Then she looks back at the road. "That's not important," she says, and pulls the car back into the road. I watch as she reaches a gloved hand over to the radio and turns the dial, turning the radio up. "A White Demon Love Song" by The Killers booms out of the car speakers.
I don't know how much time passes before I finally clear my throat. The woman doesn't budge. "Um, miss?" I manage to squeak out. The woman immediately reaches towards the radio and turns the dial down, so the car is filled with silence, and my stomach ties itself into a knot as I swallow. "Yes, dear?" the woman asks, and I swallow again at her referring to me as "dear". "Where are we going?" She smiles slightly as she pulls into another lane. We are on the freeway now. "You'll see once we get there, now won't you?" Mika swallows next to me, loudly. "My mommy says no to talk to strangers," he manages quietly. I squeez his hand, and he shoots me a look of fear. "Does she now," the woman says. "Well," she continues, her smile turning smug, "I'm not exactly a stranger, now am I?" Mika blinks. "'Scuse me, miss?" The woman chuckles quietly. "But we won't talk anyway." She reaches out and once again turns up the radio, and "Jealousy" by Good Charlotte starts playing.
I found myself re-reading the page. I read it a third time. I just couldn't register that this was really happening. That, right in front of me, some type of telepathy was happening. Some kind of magic. "So?" Mika asked. I looked up at him, realizing that he really didn't know what was going on here, that he was just waiting for my reaction. And that so far, I hadn't really given him much of one. "It's good." I cleared my throat, "Eerie." He smiled, "Creepy, right? I don't know how it came to me." He motioned to his head, looking out the window behind me, "I don't know what it is, but I just feel like the ideas are recycled. Like someone else's thoughts are being filtered into mine." I opened my mouth to say something. Maybe to tell him. Maybe to ask him if he knew. But he interrupted me, "I was wondering," he said suddenly, looking toward me, looking nervous. "If you'd like to...maybe...go to dinner with me?" I was not expecting that. I realized that when I first met Mika, all I saw was a polite, friendly, good-looking guy with a funny name. He hadn't really changed, though I couldn't look at him the same. "Sure,"I said, nodding. "Tonight?" he asked, excitement creeping into his voice. I tried to force myself to smile. But I was just so thrown off by the whole thing. Everything about it was disturbing me. "Sure," I said again. "I'll pick you up from here at seven," he said, heading toward my office door. I nodded and smiled slightly, my thoughts still distracted. He waved at me and slipped out of the office, and I was left to stare at the paper on my desk and wonder what, exactly, I should do now. Something seemed wrong about the whole thing. Like I should do something about it, tell someone, anything. But really, it's not like it was effecting anyone. No one but me.
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