Page 31 of Elusion

“You forgot something,” she says. Then she fucking points to her forehead.

I attempt to mask my disbelief and pick up the pen on my way back. I tuck that section of hair behind her ear and kiss her forehead. “See you later, beautiful.”

Sans eye roll, she takes the pen. “See you later.”

I back toward the door, and she gives me another smile.

Just like that, the walls come tumbling down. She initiates contact, invites me in, shows concern, and reprimands me for not kissing her goodbye. Instead of unraveling the mystery of Callie Henders, I’m only in deeper—less clear on what I’m doing now than when I walked into the coffee shop a week ago.

A theory exists involving multiple universes, an infinite number of alternate realities. Each holds different versions of people where every possible event can occur. Various alt Jordans all exactly like me, except they’re right-handed or blue-eyed. One enjoys the pressure of commitment; another has proud parents.

I appear to have stumbled into one where Callie smiles when she greets me in the morning, grabs her bag, and asks if I want to give her a ride. A parallel dimension where she invites me to stay after her class, so I won’t need to drive across campus later in the afternoon for my own. It’s in this world I am studying on the floor while she lies on the couch behind me, reading a novel for her lit class.

My eyes scan over the material on being, existence, and reality. Questions regarding what it means to exist swirl in my mind. What does it mean to be? Is existence a characteristic? Can something stop existing?

“Pen,” Callie says, dragging me out of my thoughts.

The pen I started lightly tapping against the page, I’m now beating against my metaphysics book.Jesus. I’m a pain to study with. Earlier, I lost myself in an idea and circled her couch, raving like a lunatic.

I reach over my shoulder, handing her the pen. “Sorry, I thought tapping would be less distracting than pacing.”

Her fingers graze mine as she removes the pen. The burning questions fade, and my attention diverts to her. I stay facing forward, but I’m hyperaware of her breathing, each minute movement, the touch of her arm resting between her body and my back.

I take a deep breath and refocus on my book. Over and over again, I read the same line, making every effort to absorb the information and not think about her, inches away. My finger drums out a beat under the single line of text my mind refuses to take in.

“Jordan.”

Shit.I’m annoying her again.

I reach my hand back. “Better take it. It’s the only way to stop me.”

She smiles when I check over my shoulder, and any chance of me studying vanishes.

I slam shut my useless book and twist around. “Now you’re distracting me.”

Her book rests on her chest, and she intently watches me. Bright blue eyes compelling enough to drive me mad, never giving away her thoughts. I still have trouble reading her other than when she smiles. And those are not something she gives away freely, but damn, when one appears, it’s thrilling to know I’m the reason. Second only to a laugh.God, that laugh.

My eyes drift over the rest of her features, taking advantage of the opportunity to study her up close and in person. Again, I notice the small scar on her temple, superficial with uneven edges. A small freckle just under her eye, only one.

“What are you thinking?” she asks, interrupting me.

“Would you like the smooth answer or the real one?”

“Both,” she says. “Smooth answer first.”

“Very well.” I pause for effect. “You are the most beautiful creature in existence.”

Her eyes start to roll but stop. “What’s the real one?”

Not hesitating this time, I tell her, “You are the most beautiful creature in existence.”

She smiles and laughs, and I savor a double victory. It reminds me of the fast-approaching deadline, which, right now, looks like it might come down to the wire.

“Come out with us Friday night.” I brush my knuckles over the smooth skin of her cheek. It’s the first time I’ve done it, but she lets me. “It’s my birthday, and the guys are taking me somewhere.”

Her eyebrows draw in, her expression fading. “Your birthday is on Valentine’s Day?”

Shit.

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