“Whoa!” Griffon yells, and reaches around me to stop it. As he does, his shoulder bumps mine and my eyesight gets fuzzy just for a moment.
The window is nothing more than a narrow slit looking over the courtyard. I sit on the wide stone ledge, my forehead pressed into the small space, watching people come and go down below. Everything inside is screaming, but my outside is calm, my hands folded neatly among the folds of my gown.
I blink, and see Griffon watching me intently. “Has that been happening a lot?” he asks quietly.
“What?” I shake my head to clear it. I can feel beads of panicky sweat trickle down my back.
“That,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. “You were somewhere else, weren’t you? Just for a second.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, running my hands over my hair.
Griffon steps closer. “You said it in the Armouries Café the day we met. The feelings of déjà vu. The blackouts. Strange feelings. Experiencing things you couldn’t possibly have seen.” He bends down until I can feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. The sensation causes me to inhale sharply. “Look, you don’t have to hide it from me,” he says softly. “I get it. I understood the minute I met you in London. I’ve been there. I can help.”
Tears fill my eyes as I look up at him. I thought things were getting better, but they aren’t. I didn’t leave the visions in London—they’ve followed me here, and are happening more and more often. The thought that Griffon might really understand is overwhelming. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, part of me wanting to run inside and slam the door and make it all go away. But I know it’s not going away. I have to find a way to deal with what’s happening.
“Can you come out for a little while?” he asks. “We need to be alone if we’re going to talk.”
I shake my head. “No. I … um … I’m waiting for a friend to come over.” Rayne and I are supposed to go to the movies at the Red Vic, but that all seems so far away right now.
“It won’t take long,” he says. He indicates the house. “I think someone’s worried.”
I look up in time to see Dad pulling back the curtains in his office that overlooks the front of the house. I wave at him and he tentatively waves back, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Griffon.
Griffon turns back to me. “If you want help—if you want answers, then come with me. If not, then go back in the house and I won’t talk to you about this again. But just know that what’s happening to you isn’t going to stop. It’s only going to get worse.”
Answers. What kind of rational answers can he possibly give me for what’s been happening? Just the slightest possibility that I might find the truth makes me want to give him a chance. I’ll be no worse off than I am now. “All right. But I say where we go.”
“Fine,” he says, with a hint of a smile.
“Wait here, I’ll be right back.” Trying not to look like I’m rushing, I walk quickly up the stairs and into the house.
I pick up my phone from the table in the hall and walk into the kitchen. “Mom, I’m going out for a little while.”
She looks up from her laptop. “Dad called down to say that there’s a strange boy out front,” she says. “You should invite him in.”
More and more I’m regretting their choice of living arrangements. It’s like having two spies for the price of one, and the last thing I want to do right now is invite Griffon in to meet her. “Please, Mom,” I beg. “Not right now. I promise I’ll be careful. Kat knows him and everything.” I wave my phone at her. “I have my phone. We’re just going for a walk to the park.” I give her a kiss on the cheek. “Okay?”
She sits thinking for a few moments before she nods. “Okay. But I want to meet him next time. What kind of a boy comes to a girl’s house and doesn’t meet her parents?”
“He’s just … a friend,” I say. “No big deal. I’ll have him in for milk and cookies next time.”
Passing my backpack, I stop and grab the photo of him out of my folder and stick it in my back pocket. As long as we’re having an honest discussion, I want to hear his explanation for this, too.
It’s still a little shocking to see him standing out in front of my house. “Where to?” he asks as I join him on the sidewalk.
“This way,” I say, and begin walking quickly down the street toward the park. It’s one of the first truly warm afternoons of spring, and there are more people than usual crowding the sidewalk. Dodging tourists, homeless people, and the guy that always stands out in front of the burrito shop handing out flyers, I soon find myself several yards ahead of Griffon.
“Are you trying to ditch me?” he asks, running to catch up. “For someone so short, you sure can walk fast.”
I slow down, but my thoughts continue to race. “What did you mean when you said you’d been there too?”
Griffon swerves to the left to avoid running into a lady with one of those twin strollers that takes up the entire sidewalk. He looks around at the other people on the street. “Let’s save that for when we’re really alone.” We walk silently for a few minutes.
“I love that record store,” he says as we pass Amoeba Records. “You know, that place used to be a bowling alley.”
“Rock ‘n’ Bowl,” I say, smiling. “My parents are always talking about it. If I hear one more time about how cool the midnight bowling was, I’m going to scream.”
We cross into the park and through the tunnel that always reminds me of Alice in Wonderland—go into the tunnel from the city and you come out into the country. Well, the park, anyway. People are scattered on every green surface, lying with their faces turned to the sun, taking advantage of the warm evening.
“Down here,” I say, heading for the children’s play area. It’s changed so much since I was little that I hardly recognize it anymore—they took out all of the fun, rickety old wooden play equipment and put in safe, boring plastic stuff. Walking through the play area, I take a left and climb the steep steps that have been carved into the hill next to the long cement slide. This is my favorite part of the park, and the only part they haven’t messed with.
“We’re going on the slide?” Griffon asks, not at all out of breath after our climb.
“You can if you want,” I say. “I’m heading here.” I point to a large rock just behind the start of the slide. I sit down on top of it and pull my feet up. From here, you can see the entire play area and part of the meadow, and aside from a little kid or two, nobody is around to hear us.
“Perfect,” Griffon says, sitting down beside me as close as he can without actually touching. I can feel the heat from his body, and smell a warm, earthy, boy scent that makes my insides flutter. He’s still wearing that black cord around his neck. I can see the outline of the pendant under his shirt, and I wonder if he’s maybe some kind of a religious nut with crucifix issues. At this point, an exorcism might not be completely out of the question.
“So,” I say quickly before I lose my nerve. “What were you talking about?”
Griffon nods. “Ah, the lady is direct. I like it—no preliminaries.” He focuses on a point in the distance, and I suspect it’s to avoid looking at me. “It starts this way for all of us, I think,” he says evenly. “First some odd feelings that come out of nowhere and seem completely random.” He glances at me. “Like the déjà vu we were talking about at the Tower that day.” He pauses. “You might feel completely at home in a place you’ve never been before. Then you might start getting visions of things you’ve never actually seen, at times in history that you didn’t even know existed.”