“What?” Rafe asks.
“Xander. I see his van.” I point toward the vehicle on the horizon, slowly making its way toward us.
“Oh, shit!” Rafe stops. “Is it two o’clock already?”
“Almost,” I sigh.
“Damn. Okay.” Rafe stands, and I settle into his place on the lounge chair, not minding one bit that it’s damp from his earlier dip. “Promise you won’t go anywhere?” he says.
“Like where? The supermarket?” I laugh. “I think you forget that I don’t even have a car that I can drive away from here at the moment.”
“I’ll take you out later and teach you.”
I close my eyes and ask again. “Why are you being so nice to me, Rafe? You hardly know me.”
He stands there a moment before answering, and I open my eyes to study him, watching a series of emotions flit across the screen of his totally open face. Concern. Confusion. A tiny smile. And is that a blush?
It strikes me how little he looks like Titanium Man to me now. When did I stop seeing the character he plays when I look at him? Sometime yesterday?
“I don’t know,” Rafe says, simply. “I don’t know why I feel like Iknowyou. It isn’t just because you look like Lorelei. There’s something else. Something different. I don’t know what it is. But I feel like we need to figure it out. Don’t you?”
This is just a dream. Has to be.
“I thought you were afraid of things getting messy?” I murmur.
“Life is messy.” Rafe smiles. “Although, to be honest, you have completely bewitched both my mother and my daughter. I feel bad for the real Lorelei. They’re convinced you’re her, only nicer.”
And with that, he bends down to quickly brush his lips against mine, before pulling on a tee, grabbing his phone, and taking off, jogging toward the house. It’s like the June bug all over again, only this time, I don’t want to shake off the buzz.
As if on cue, Lorelei 1.0 chooses this moment to finally text me back.
Sorry it’s been so busy, but everything is GREAT. Talk later today?
There’s so much to tell her, but I’m not sure where to start. With Rafe. I should probably start with Rafe. My stomach tenses up at the thought of this. I know she said there’s nothing between them, but it’s hard to fathom how that could be true? How can she not want him for herself? And even if she is telling the truth, how would she feel knowing that I want him for myself?
What a ridiculous thought. I can’t have Rafe freaking Barzilay. I mean, maybe if I am lucky, I can have him for a night or two. But nothing beyond that.
Still, a night or two sounds better than nothing.
And to think that I was ready to demand we switch back immediately this morning.
Xander just got here. Not sure when I will be free.
No prob. Talk tonight?
Sure.
Whatever Lorelei is up to in my life, I’m sure it will be fine. And if not, I’ll just have to deal with it. Next week.
lorelei
I crankthe music in Kenna’s car on the way to Noah’s place. Window down, alternative tunes wailing, wind in my hair, I follow Noah’s army-gray Volvo down the freeway. I can’t recall the last time I felt this free.
I trail my left hand out the window and let my hand surf on the side of the car, feeling the wind catch between my outstretched fingers. God, it all feels so good. No wig. No costume. No looking in the rearview mirror to check if I’m being followed.
Kenna’s beat-up, old hatchback isn’t nearly as luxurious as the cars I’m used to driving. There’s a tatty, old aux cord I have to plug into my phone to play music on the car radio. But none of that bothers me. There’s a sweet simplicity to being able to drive without your car demanding an answer to incoming texts.
Like the ones I’m pretty sure my mom will be sending tomorrow.Happy Gotcha Day, Lorelei. Can’t believe it’s been twenty-seven years. Wish we could speak.
