Existence 02 - Predestined

snuggled up to his side. “Save me from Miranda. She’s trying to kill me via shopping.”
    “Impossible. I happen to know Death has a thing for you and you can’t be killed off that easily.”
    I pinched his washboard abs through his t-shirt. It felt so good to be close to him and not have to worry about anything but normal teenage stuff like a best friend who has got part of her groove back and is now wearing me out.
    “You ever find out anything about Wyatt?” I asked quietly peering up at him.
    He nodded, “Yeah. Um, let’s just say his death was an abnormal... er unique event. So his return is just as unique.”
    “What?” I asked sitting up so I could read his facial expression better.
    Dank reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Just wait. You’ll understand soon enough.”
    “Ahem, excuse me lovebirds but this is a shopping emergency day and I have our fuel. Now Dank, you need to run along and go be all smoldering and sexy somewhere else. I need all Pagan’s attention today,” Miranda had taken on a slightly bossy tone.
    Dank kissed my mouth softly then cupped my face and whispered, “I love you,” in my ear before standing up and leaving me in a puddle of mush on the bench.
    “See ya later Miranda. Don’t wear her completely out,” Dank teased as he turned to walk away. I glanced over at Miranda who was watching his butt in awe and I swung my shopping bag to slap her in the side.
    “HEY,” she shrieked as she stumbled sideways.
    “Stop looking at my boyfriend’s butt,” I replied to her scowl. I realized that maybe it was just guys who showed interest in her that she was opposed to. Those like Dank she didn’t view as a betrayal she still checked out.
    Biting her lip, she tried to keep from smiling, “Sorry, it’s really hard not to.”
    “Well, try .”
    “Spoilsport,” she muttered and grabbed my arm to pull me up.
    “Let’s walk and eat. I want to go see if they have a see through strapless bra at Victoria’s Secret.”
    Groaning, I let her pull me up and grabbed my half of the pretzel from her hand. At least I had a treat to get me through this.

    Dank

    I went to open Pagan’s bedroom door when someone cleared their throat behind me. I hadn’t been careful and had gotten a little too comfortable with sneaking into her room in the morning. I’d have to face the music for that mistake. Turning around I found Pagan’s mom standing across the hall with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised. Her dark brown hair was a little mussed from sleep but she was already in her work clothes: sweat pants and a teeshirt. Complete with coffee stain.
    “Good morning,” I tried to sound as polite as possible. It wasn’t like she could keep me from coming to Pagan’s room whenever I wanted but I still didn’t want to have her as an enemy.
    “Good morning, Dank. To what do we owe this early visit?”
    This time I cleared my throat, “I thought I’d wake Pagan up. Don’t want her to miss breakfast.” Okay, that sounded lame.
    “Really? Well, just so we’re clear, I realize my daughter’s boyfriend is ... well... something that isn’t exactly human. But I still expect you to follow my rules.”
    “Of course,” I replied.
    She stared at me a moment longer then started to walk down the stairs. I stood frozen not sure if she wanted me to actually leave.
    Stopping and glancing back over her shoulder at me she smiled, “Come on. I’ll feed you while you wait.” She then continued down the stairs and I smiled to myself while I followed her. Who was I to disobey her mom?

    Once we got in the kitchen her mother opened a cabinet and got down the pancake mix, a large bowl and a spoon. “Here read the directions and start mixing up my batter while I get the griddle hot,” she directed as she shoved the items into my arms.
    I hadn’t planned on cooking breakfast with Pagan’s mother but it was past time she and I talked. Our last private conversation had been the night I’d confronted her about Pagan’s soul.
    “The key to getting pancakes just the way Pagan likes them is to use a lot of butter. Real butter. It makes the edges crisp.” I filed that piece of information away to use on a later date.
    “When she was little I’d make her pancakes into the shape of Mickey Mouse. Well, his head at least. She loved them. She’d make eyes and a nose and a mouth with fruit and then cover it all with syrup.”
    I remembered the green eyes too big for her