The streets were no longer familiar to me, people stared at my piercings and hair. I wrapped my fingers around my necklace as I asked an elderly man if Park Drive was near here. He gave me a funny look and told me to scram, as Park Drive had been demolished years ago. That couldn't be, I was in Park Drive ten minutes ago. There was a older looking phone book at my feet. I quickly snatched it up, in hopes of finding my sister. A bit of searching and I discovered they were both in a different house, except Cammy was operating under the alias of Cyan. Which was weird considering I called her Camryn fifteen minutes ago. I let my feet numbly carry me to her new apartment. I knock on the door.

It's thrown open and I looked at my sister. She is now pale in spots around her eyes or her legs, bright neon colors in her iris and horns to match curling from her head. Not the Camryn I knew fourty minutes ago. She threw herself into my arms, verge of tears and yelling cries of relief and joy that I don't process. I'm thinking of all the curved lines in his face and the dimple when he smiles. My sister is telling me words I don't understand now, as I sit in her new living room and Aryn is snuggled tight to me, her breathing soft and the only thing I can hear. I woke up an hour and eleven minutes ago. "You have to meet my friends," she says. "I know your friends," I respond. "That was years ago." Camryn tosses this sentence at me with loose causality. "Ah yes," I say outloud, but internally I am thinking that it has only been an hour and thirteen minutes since I have known them.

I know the house she is taking me into. Where Park Prive used to be, the two story building that looks like a small little home for a retired couple. We step through the fence gate, a fence know too well. The fence where I sent my dogs over, or threw baseballs at windows. In the door and inside, she introduces me. I know the robot. Not her wife, though she seems as though she is speaking politely through the muff in my ears. Suddenly, my fog clears as I see him. As he steps out the kitchen door, it's hard to tell it's him.

His face is much sharper, ridden with years upon years and scars line his body so heavily they are visible across the room. His hair is shorter now. White almost extinguishing the black tips. But his eyes are still the same clouded greyish blue that would gaze intensely into my own after our first kiss behind the football field. The same eyes that would look me up and down like there was nothing wrong with loving someone like me. The same eyes that perceived me as perfect, and shined with a unsatisfiable hunger for something I could never put my finger on. And suddenly they lock and he smiles so broadly it looks like it hurts. I let myself move forward and it's like the first time I ever touched him, my hand cradles around his cheek like it always did. "It's been three-" "Three hours, twenty-one minutes and four seconds." Oliver finishes my sentence for me, like he always did. He knows me. "For you, anyway." All he has to do is look at me with those eyes and a smile and I am

completely undone. "It's been thirty years you son of a *****." And then I'm kissing him the same way I did the first time, and the second, and every time between the last. I last saw him three hours ago.

lol just kidding gavin can't read