I burst through my front door and immediately slammed it shut behind me, slumping heavily against it. My hair and jacket were soaked from riding home in the rain. Hot tears were burning in my eyes.
What the hell just happened?
Tossing my wet helmet on the couch, I remained crouched against the door, my head resting in my knees. The storm clouds obscured the setting sun and the house was cold and dark. But I didn’t move from my place. Breathing deeply to avoid hyperventilating, I tried to regain my composure while piecing my fragmented thoughts together.
I barely had a moment to do so when three sharp bangs sounded against the door. I was so startled I nearly fell over.
That’s not Evelyn.
Panicked, I crawled across the floor to the kitchen, not wanting to be seen through the window, and reached my hand up over the countertop, blindly feeling for it…
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Got it! My fingers closed around the cold handle of the cast iron frying pan resting on the counter by the sink. I stood up and clutched it in my right hand, ignoring the tenderness in my wrist. As I walked back, I didn’t bother to look through the window as I threw the front door wide open; I already knew who it would be.
Aiden stood there, drenched, rain dripping from his dark hair and onto his furious face. He had no jacket and his shirt was sopping wet, clinging to his skin. I clenched the frying pan at my side tighter.
“Who do you think you are?” he shouted at me from the front porch. “I haven’t bothered anyone! I haven’t broken any rules! And you people think you can just follow me around for the rest of my life? Send spies to watch me?” He was visibly shaking with anger.
My jaw dropped; I stood there for a moment, gaping at him. The man was completely out of his mind, and here I was, three miles away from my nearest neighbor, with only cookware to protect me.
I spoke very carefully then, trying to keep my voice steady. The rain was falling even harder now and I had to raise my voice to be heard over the noise.
“Look,” I started, “I’m really sorry that I was in your class without being enrolled in the college, I truly am…” His eyes flashed angrily so I hastily continued. “But I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about. No one sent me – I had a book, from the library, it had a pamphlet about auditing classes…”
His eyebrows narrowed, his glare replaced by a perplexed look. I kept going, praying that the truth would be placating enough.
“Anyway, I-I can’t afford to go to school, and I already had the required textbook from the library – that’s the only reason I chose Professor Borstein’s class from the list. I just wanted to learn something new. I meant no harm at all, I swear.” I quickly added, “And I’ll never come to your class again, I-I promise.”
Aiden’s entire body seemed to slump slightly. He ran a hand through his wet hair, starting to turn away from me as if to go, then circled back. In the dim light, I could see his dark eyes taking me in, searching for something. They stopped at the frying pan I was gripping in my hand. Suddenly, he laughed. Loudly. That startled me more than his previous outburst. I stared at him, positively flummoxed.
He pursed his mouth together, perhaps in a moment of self-awareness, then shook his head slightly. I waited expectantly, still clutching the cast iron pan.
“Why would an Electromancer use a frying pan for self-defense?” he asked, almost as if to himself.
“What did you call me?” I asked, confused by the abrupt change in his demeanor. But he wasn’t listening to me anymore.
He spun on his heel and walked away, retreating back into the evening and the rain storm. From just past the front porch, he turned around and called back to me, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain, “Please forgive me, I thought you were someone else.” As he turned away, he threw up his hands and added, “By all means, attend my class. Just don’t blow any more fuses.”
With that, he walked back to his Jeep and sped away without another look back.
***
Thursday morning, I was awakened by the persistent shrill beeps of my alarm clock. I hit the button groggily and looked over, regarding the time with blurry vision. 5:01 a.m. I had barely slept the night before. Sitting up in bed, disheveled hair falling over my face and shoulders, I put my head in my hands. The world around me was falling apart and I had no idea how to stitch everything back together. Aiden had thought I was a spy – a spy for whom? The U.S. Government? Some foreign agency?
I heaved myself out of bed and pulled on leggings and a black tank top. I continued to get ready for work on autopilot – wash face, comb hair, brush teeth – hardly registering what I was doing.
‘Electromancer’ – What did that mean?
I rode to work in a stupor, and the rest of the day wasn’t much clearer. Miraculously, it was a slow morning and, save for mixing up a few tables’ checks and dropping a platter of muffins to the floor, passed otherwise without incident. There were no strange men in the corner, no apoplectic associate professors, no freak tornadoes, demon fires, or exploding lights. The day was so blissfully normal, in fact, that when my shift was over at three, I didn’t want to leave the restaurant.
“Do you need any help with anything, Gina?” I asked, lingering in the doorway of her office.
She looked up at me, blue pen tucked behind her ear and purple reading glasses balanced on the tip of her nose.
“Oh, thanks, honey. But I don’t think so. I have a lot of paperwork and orders to finish.”
“Is there anything I can do?” I pressed.
She surveyed the mess of papers obscuring the top of her desk. “One day I’ll have you help me sort through this mess, but that involves me first learnin’ my own system. See you tomorrow mornin’?”
I forced a smile. “Yep, bright and early as always.”
***
I trudged up the steps of my front porch and fumbled around my jacket pocket for the key. A note was taped to the doorframe. I plucked it off, hastily unfolding it as a small knot formed in my stomach.
Jane –
(Forgive me - I don’t know your name so I’ve started calling you Jane in my head.) I don’t have the words to tell you how sorry I am. My deplorable behavior last night was inexcusable. Would you do me the tremendous honor of giving me the chance to explain myself tomorrow night at 7pm, at the French Bistro on 6th Street?
Sincerely, Genuinely, and Really (again) Apologetically,
Aiden
I stared at the piece of paper in my hand after reading through it twice. Is this guy crazy? I fumed. He follows me to my house, accuses me of being some kind of spy, abruptly leaves, and then... I glanced at the paper again. …Asks me out on a date!? I crumpled up the note and hurled it at the pile of wood next to the cabin.
“I thought you might do that,” a voice said from behind me. I whirled around. Aiden was leaning against the column on the side of the porch, about ten feet away. He took a tentative step forward, his hands held in front of him in what I supposed was meant to be some sort of gesture of peace and goodwill.
“What the hell—” I sputtered wildly.
“Please,” he entreated. “Just hear me out. I know what you are.”
What I am? My eyes narrowed furiously.
“I know you must be frustrated and confused, and I think I can help you with some of the questions you probably have. We don’t have to talk here. We can go to a coffee shop, drive separately. Just… Just give me one chance to make up for last night. If you never want to see me again after today, I swear I won’t bother you again.”
I stared at him blankly, too stunned and furious to think of a retort. I started to reach behind me for the front door but his words echoed in my head: I know what you are.
Without favoring him with an explanation, I went back inside the house and grabbed a sticky pad from the kitchen, quickly scrawling what I hoped would be a legible note to Evelyn. Emerging from the house a minute later, I emphatically slapped the lime-green piece of paper squarely on the doorframe.
“My neighbor checks on me often and knows where we’re headed, Mr. Aiden Lawson, Associate University Professor.” Unless she’s still mad and doesn’t stop by for a few days, I gulped.
“You get ten minutes,” I added, brushing past him.
“I might need a little more time than that!” he called, quickly jogging after me.