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OKAY, I'LL ADMIT IT. I teared up a bit. If all missions are like this, I think I'm going to enjoy this spirit guide work.
“All missions will not be like this, I'm afraid,” Sander answers the thought in my head. “This one was amazingly fast. All the pieces fell into place so easily. It—”
“Dude!” I interrupt him. It might be rude to cut off my instructor in mid-sentence, but this needs to be said. “You need to stop doing that!”
“Doing... what?” Sander feigns innocence. At least, I'm pretty sure he's feigning it because his blonde eyelashes are fluttering, and it makes him look guilty.
“The mind reading thing!” I exclaim. “Please, please stop doing that. It's creepy.”
“Oh. Sorry. Perhaps I was doing it without even realizing it. That happens to me sometimes,” Sander claims. “Anyway, you should be proud of yourself, Miss Frost. Not only have you accomplished your very first mission, but you did it with ease!”
“Well, it's not like I did it by myself,” I point out. “In fact, you did almost all the work. You knew Italian, you drove the Vespa... I pretty much stood there.”
“Nevertheless, you should give yourself some credit.” Sander checks his LightTab as he speaks. “Anyway, I will return tomorrow for your next mission. Where would you like to meet?”
I blurt out the first place that pops into my head. “The Taco Barn.”
Sander slowly repeats, “Taco... Barn.” In his accent, it sounds weirdly hilarious.
“It's a restaurant across the street from my grandma's place. I've only eaten there once, but the salsa was, like... the best salsa I've ever tasted in my life.” Sander still looks confused. Did I just choose the worst meeting place in the world or something?
“The Taco Barn isn't exactly a landmark, but I suppose we can make it work,” Sander says. “Well then... I'll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait!” My arm shoots out, as if to halt him, but it isn't as if I could stop him from warping. “Do students and their instructors ever... hang out?”
“Generally speaking, they don't spend recreational time together until the new student's missions are complete. I'm sure there are some exceptions, of course.” Sander raises a pale, blonde eyebrow. “Were you hoping we could... hang out?”
“Maybe. Kind of. I don't have any friends here, and even though you're my instructor, you don't look that much older than me, so...” I nibble my lip and wait for him to say something, to put me out of my misery. He doesn't. “So... do you want to hang out or what?”
“Where will we be going?” Sander asks. “The Taco Barn?”
“No, not the Taco Barn. I just thought we could chill at my house and play some video games or something.” This is a terrible idea, isn't it? He's going to reject me and our teacher/student dynamic will never be the same. “Do you consider yourself a gamer, Mister, uhhh... Phelan?” Now I sound even more pathetic, because it took me forever to remember his last name.
“I have never played a video game in my life,” he admits. “However, I would be willing to try.”
“Seriously?” Relief spills into my stomach when I'm not rejected. “Then, uh... let's head to my house, I guess.”
It's a short walk to Grandma's house, and it doesn't look like she's home right now. I'm totally okay with that, because I've literally never brought a guy home with me, and I would rather avoid an awkward meet-and-greet.
I easily manifest a copy of Mario Kart—the Nintendo Wii version—and toss a Wiimote to Sander. “This is an older game,” I explain to Sander. “I think it was the first video game I ever played. It takes me back to my childhood.”
“You say that, and yet... you are shockingly young, Miss Frost,” Sander says. “Your childhood was... what? A year ago?”
My lips sputter at the thought. Honestly, the last thing I want is for Sander to think of me as a kid.
I choose Donkey Kong as my driver, thinking his slow ass will give me a handicap, but I am literally wrecking Sander off the road. I even encouraged him to choose one of the faster characters, but it doesn't seem to help. He keeps asking me what the buttons do, and he drives like my grandpa on a really bad day.
“I appear to be very bad at this,” Sander states the obvious.
He is bad, but at least he looks cute while doing it. “It's okay. There's a learning curve, especially if you've never played a game before.”
“I suspect this is a skill I may never acquire.”
“Hey... that's not a good attitude to have!” I lecture him. “What if I said that about manifestation or something?”
“You'll never say that, because you're already a master manifestor... or so it seems,” Sander says. “Your unusual abilities should make my job much easier.”
I want to reply, but I'm stunned by his terrible driving skills. I watch him drive through the grass and smack into a wall—repeatedly.
After a few races, I say, “Hey, uh... why don't we do something else?”
Sander looks relieved to relinquish his controller. “Such as?”
“I dunno. Um... maybe...”
Grandma enters the house while I'm pondering my answer. She's with a dark-skinned guy with curly black hair, and he smiles when he sees me.
Oh no. This isn't the new boyfriend, is it?
“Mikey! You're here!” Grandma exclaims. It's still strange to think of her as grandma when she looks so young. “I wanted to introduce you to Jacob.”
“Uh... hi.” I should probably shake his hand or do something, but all I can do is gape. “You're... my grandma's new boyfriend?”
Jacob replies in a thick Irish accent, “I don't know if I would say new, since we've been together for several years, but... I understand where you're coming from.”
Grandma asks about Sander, so I introduce him as my instructor. What she says next is beyond humiliating.
“I was hoping he was your boyfriend.”
“Grandma... seriously?” My forehead dives into the palm of my hand. Her comment is so weird, it deserves an eternal facepalm. “I've been dead for literally three days. How would I get a boyfriend in three days if I never managed to get a boyfriend in seventeen years?”
“Well, excuuuse me!” Grandma exclaims. “I just thought it would be nice to go on a double date. And your instructor is cute, so... I was optimistic.”
Even if I had a boyfriend, I can't imagine going on a double date with Grandma and Jacob. I could probably make a list of hundred things I would rather do, and the 101st thing in the list would be: Double Date with Grandma. Try not to be traumatized for life. I still haven't gotten over the fact that she's not with Grandpa anymore. It'll be a long time before I get over that, actually.
Sander whispers to me, “Should I excuse myself?”
I don't want to chase him off, so I give him an ambiguous answer. “Maybe.”
“Alright. Then... I'll meet you at the Taco Barn tomorrow,” Sander says. “I'll text you before I come.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I watch Sander leave, and I swear to god, I catch Grandma checking out his butt on the way out.
If I wasn't dead already, this newer, younger, flirtier Grandma would be the death of me.