Part 8
I got to World Issues just in the nick of time. Not that I was overly worried. Gladlys was pretty cool about being a little bit late anyway.
Taylor was late.
I fished my cobbled together notes out, and winced at the dust all over them. Stuff transferred from the boat graveyard to the inside of the bag, to the notes.
Still mostly legible. They were only the basic information anyway, not even draft number one.
At the same time I couldn't help but wince. No more notes in the backpack until I cleaned it out.
Wait. Could I clean it out? Did this sort of cloth clean like that?
Otherworldly knowledge said yes but it'd be an utter bitch to do and there would always be tiny bits of grime I missed.
I groaned, pulling away.
Taylor sat down.
I blinked, and looked over at her. She looked... kind of like a mess honestly. Her skin was even pastier than it was yesterday, the bags under her eyes a bit deeper, and... was her hair burnt?
Did her house burn down or something?
"Rough night?" I asked as she settled down.
She tensed, "Fine! I mean... everything's fine."
Yeah she was fine all right. Fucked-up Insecure Neurotic and Emotional. F.I.N.E.
Okay that was probably a bit harsh. Maybe she was just having a bad idea? I was probably projecting. My head was killing me.
"O...kay..." I drew out. "Well if you feel like venting, I'm up to listening," I offered.
"No, everything's okay," she insisted, not meeting my eyes.
I debated prying, but then pushed it to the side. Not my business really. I had more than enough on my plate with cape stuff.
I rubbed at my brow again.
"If you say so, offer's open though," I stated, turning the notes around for her to see. "This is what I've put together so far. Sorry for the mess, had some gunk in my backpack I didn't notice before."
She flinched.
Seriously what was her problem?
"You sure you're okay?" I asked again then immediately kicked myself.
Tact thy name is Dwight.
I rubbed at my eyes, maybe I should have left more time to sleep. Or at least tried to get back earlier. Practicing with eldritch powers was awesome and all but there was such a thing as taking a project too fast.
"It's fine," she repeated, sounding irritated.
Yeah I'd pushed too far this time. And in doing so had pretty much blown my chance of actually getting her to talk to me about things. Why did people have to work so backwards on some things?
I opened my eyes, the bright light of sleep deprived eyes slowly fading back to normal vision.
Except not.
I blinked for a moment, then I realized two things.
The first was that Taylor was still glowing.
The second was that my headache was suddenly gone.
Then Taylor promptly distracted me from these revelations by her jaw dropping open as she stared at my face.