Calvin Banes-Alberici (bothsidesnow) wrote in genome_project, @ 2011-04-23 01:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | april 2011, katie baker |
Who: Katie & Calvin
What: Hanging out/dancing
When: Backdated to last Saturday
"I don't want to know what's going to happen," Calvin said, digging his fingernails into the skin of his opposite wrist in a painful pinch. It was almost time to leave to go over to Katie's, and he could feel a vision hovering like a migraine about to explode across his vision, and he had a sinking feeling that this afternoon was important and he was about to see it ahead of time. That was how it worked, and he didn't want to know. He didn't really think pain might keep the vision away, but it was worth a try.
"She doesn't want me to know what's going to happen," he continued, concentrating on the drone of his own voice, anchoring him in the present. After all, they'd broken up over the future, not the present.
"I want to have a normal afternoon, and I want to dance. With Katie. And I want to be looking forward to it, because she wants to dance with me," he said. He tried to smile like he had when she'd suggested getting together, then sighed at the grimace he made. He couldn't keep this up all afternoon.
"Fine, do your worst," he muttered. Nothing happened. He pushed a little mentally. Still nothing. "Goddamnit." Was he imagining the whole thing? Maybe he was just nervous. It had been a long time since he'd been alone in private with Katie. Practically forever.
"I can't do this," he said. "It's like waiting for a--"
"You're my son, and that's all that should matter to you," his mother said, a note of pleading in her voice.
"That's easy for you to say," Calvin said, tasting bitterness. "I think I have a right to know about my father."
He looked around wildly as the living room faded and he was in his bedroom again. "What?" he said. At least the pressure of an important vision about to happen seemed to be gone now.
"My father?" he said, unsettled. He didn't have a father, and he wouldn't care if he did. Would he? Apparently he would.
Then he noticed the time. He was late. He grabbed a jacket and shouted something about leaving to his mother in her office and slammed the door behind him before she could shout something back. He didn't want to hear her voice. His father? Why did he care?
And more importantly, he realized when he made it to Katie's house, did that mean nothing important was going to happen this afternoon? He felt a complex mixture of disappointment and relief. He didn't want to know what was going to happen -- he didn't -- but he'd hoped this afternoon could be important. We're at least going to dance, he thought to himself, willing it to be so. He raised his hand and pounded on the door.