Chapter 5

When you're a high school student, you're supposed to sleep late on Saturdays, after those great Friday night parties. For once, I'd actually had something deserving of the name, if admittedly a private one. Nonetheless, I woke up early, but for once, I wasn't grumpy about it in the least. As a matter of fact, I felt gooood. It felt good to be wanted, the sort of power I'd never dreamed of having.

Not that I had any illusions about Tiffany and what she wanted from me. At least it wasn't money or devises made to order, not that she knew about either of those aspects of mine. I meant to keep it that way, too. The money, at least, was starting to pile up. Soon, I'd have to start splitting into several online accounts and racking up some gambling losses, or they'd notice me.

Full of energy, I started working right away, working hard enough that my stomach complained bitterly after not quite two hours. Getting lazy again, I swiped a tray of sushi, and taking a break, looked in on Tiff. She was sprawled on her bed, still asleep, hair wild, limbs askew and a bit of escaped drool staining her pillow. Still, all I could think was 'Yummy', and set to work waking her up the sexy way. Taking a leisurely breakfast while teaching Emily to use chopsticks and torturing-teasing Tiffany into spine-bending orgasms was more than a bit surreal. Do all mutant manifestations twist up your life into impossible, unpredictable weirdnesses, or was I unique? Because if this was week one, I was afraid to see what year one would end as. I wasn't sure I'd even recognize myself - for sure, the baseline I used to be seemed light years distant.

I got back to work, and was thus somewhat distracted from bodily functions. Nonetheless, the overwatch eye sees all, and I could not fail to notice my parents driving back home this otherwise fine morning. What the heck?

I managed to keep from running out to welcome and question them, if only just. After all, how would I explain knowing they were back? Looking out the window wasn't plausible, not with anyone who knew me. Damnation, but what was this all about?

I called out to Emily and persuaded her to go downstairs, ostensibly to watch one of her favorite cartoons, but in actuality, to buffer me from the parentals. Ten days away or not, the differences in me - and not just the eyes and hair - would be noticeable. Mom and dad were disturbingly perceptive, it went with their jobs. They rarely turned those discerning eyes our way, but I wasn't counting on luck this time. There was something fishy about them coming back over a week early, that much was certain.

Once they came in, finished the crazy-huggy Emily welcome-back-ritual, it was glaringly obvious that the game was up, just by the way they looked at me. But how? Was it something I did? Only three percent ... oh, fewk. The realization crystallized. The chance displayed was skewed not just by the question, but by my subconscious. When I asked about discovery, I was worried about anyone and thing who meant me ill, not family or friendly folk. Goodness, but this prophecy thing was getting more complicated every time something new came up. I'd have to watch out for both wording and intent.

Emily was quickly bundled up and sent off in a taxi to a friend, and with the suitcases still unpacked, they joined me at the dining table.

"So..." I started.

Dad shook his head. "You really believed we wouldn't figure it out, when Emily emailed us with details of your new eyes and hair?"

"We may be ancient, but we're not entirely dim," mom added dryly. This did not bode well. So much for waking up and feeling all wonderful. It never lasts.