Page 8 of My Date With A Pair of Gray Sweatpant

I can’t put them on anymore, but I need more time to think.

I stare at Matthew’s gray back, trying to figure out what to do. Even though he is pants, he somehow still has pants on, too. I guess he’s lucky that’s all he had on when she bound him. What if he’d only had on a pair of socks or tighty whities? Would he be a giant pair of underwear? I shudder at the thought.

“Matthew, take a step back,” I hiss. He’s only half paying attention to me as he argues with his mom. Obediently, he takes a step back. I plop down on the edge of the bed and pull his waistband away from his gray skin.

“Kaitlyn, what the hell?”

“I’ll be back,” I promise. As soon as I figure this out.

6

In Which We End at the Thrift Store Thrift Store

Iam a horrible accidental friend with benefits or whatever Matthew and I are because it takes me a whole day to figure out my next move: Thrift Store Thrift Store

I need to go back to the kid. He knew something was weird about the pants. He’s my best bet. I spend a lot of time trying to work through the best approach. Should I bring the pants? Should I get Dale to come with me? Should I be blunt and straightforward or work it into the conversation?

I don’t have any answers to those questions by the time my hand is reaching for the door and pulling it open. Armed with the pants draped over my arm, I march up to the counter and find myself in luck. The same grumpy-looking kid is standing by the register.

His eyes flick over toward me. It takes him a second, but as soon as he recognizes me, he drops a “register closed” sign on the counter and starts to head toward the back.

I pick up my pace and cut him off by the dresses. “Hey, I need to talk to you.”

“Look, I don’t know anything about the pants.”

I shake my head. “You totally know something about the pants. What’s going on with them?” I drop my voice to a whisper. “How do I fix things for the person bound to them?”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “Look, I don’t know much about that stuff…”

“But?”

He sighs again. “My mom does.”

He leads me to the back, where a couple of people are sorting clothes. A tall, beautiful woman with dark blonde hair is standing at a table full of jeans. She doesn’t ask my name—she just looks up at me, then at the pants in my hands.

“Let’s go to the breakroom.”

I follow her to a tiny room with a microwave and a mini-fridge. We sit at a table in mismatched chairs, and she takes the pants from me.

“You’re already involved, aren’t you?”

I nod. “I’ve been there several times. He’s been there since 1987, I can’t just leave him…”

She eyes me sternly. “Are you in love with this man?”

I shake my head. “I’ve only met him four times, I can’t say.”

“Just…” she pauses. “Don’t go into this thinking it will be happy ever after in the end. I thought it’d be my happily ever after, too, and then suddenly I was a single mom and he was free.”

I nod. “I’ll be careful.”

“I don’t know how to say this delicately, so I’m going to be blunt. He can’t stay where he’s bound. That time and place no longer exist. He will have to agree to come to this timeline.”

“And then?”

She takes a deep breath. “You travel back and forth inside him. He will have to travel back and forth while inside of you. You’ll have to have sex with him.”

If she’s going to be blunt, I guess I will have to be, too. “But we’ve already had sex, accidentally. He never came back with me.”

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