C. Omololu - Intuition

Drew raises his eyes to meet mine. “Maybe he sees what you refuse to. That we’re destined for each other.”

“We are not !” I turn and start to walk away. The people around us are already beginning to thin out, and I scan the crowd for Rayne and Peter.

“Wait,” Drew says, and reaches out to touch my sleeve, but I shrug him off. Even through the thick fabric I can feel the vibrations between us, so I step back until they become just a dull ache.

“Griffon was everything to me. He’s Sekhem,” I say, the pride in my voice unmistakable. “Important Sekhem. Not like some selfish, low-life Khered.”

Drew’s face registers the surprise I’m sure he wanted to hide. “Is that what you think? If that’s true, I can only imagine what kind of crap he’s been telling you all this time.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “There are other facets to life than what the Sekhem have been feeding you. Khered take advantage of the opportunities we’ve been given in a different way. The Sekhem don’t have all the answers. It’s not only about hard work and crushing responsibility.”

Responsibility. That word has been following me around since the day I had my first memory. “What are you talking about?”

“There are many ways to live in this world, and apparently you’ve only been shown one tiny side of the benefits that our kind of immortality can bring.”

Immortality. I hadn’t really thought of it that way before. As pissed as I am at myself for staying and even talking to him, another part of me is just the tiniest bit curious. “And you have another?”

Drew smiles, and I have to look away—otherwise I’d have to admit that it makes him even better-looking. “There’s only one way to find out. Have dinner with me.”

His arrogance makes me want to hit him again. “Did you not hear anything I said? You’ve ruined my life. I’m not going out with you.”

“Okay, then.” He shrugs. “I guess you’re going to have to spend the rest of your life—the rest of your lives—wondering how things might have been.”

I start to walk away. Thoughts are tumbling through my head so fast I can barely keep up. Immortality. Responsibility. Khered. When I glance back over my shoulder, he’s still standing there with an amused look on his face. Damn him—he’s right. I am always going to wonder.

“One meal,” I shout back. “One hour. And that’s it.”

Drew is waiting out in front of the slightly shabby restaurant as I walk from the bus stop on 24th Street. The sun is still high overhead, and I wonder why he wants to eat at the same time as old people. Probably so that Francesca won’t catch him. I doubt he’ll even eat anything, but then again, neither will I. I’m here on a fact-finding mission, and that’s all.

“You came,” he says, turning the full force of his smile on me. “I wasn’t sure you’d get the message I left at the studio.” I almost miss the glance at the ankh that’s prominently displayed around my neck.

“I got it.” I look up at the sign on the restaurant. “Salvadorian?”

“Is it okay?” He looks genuinely concerned. “I love the pupusas here.”

“I’ll let you know.” I can hear the irritated tone in my voice, but I can’t help it. If it wasn’t for Drew, I’d be eating dinner with Griffon. My mind flashes to him and I wonder what he’s doing tonight. And who he’s doing it with.

The bell on the front door dings as Drew holds it open for me. This place isn’t what I expected—fluorescent lighting and small formica tables surrounded by worn red vinyl chairs. Not exactly what I pictured as a restaurant Khered would like. Nice to see that Drew isn’t going out of his way to impress me.

“Hello, Señor Drew!” says an older woman as she comes out from behind the counter to give him a kiss on both cheeks.

“ Hola , Maria,” Drew says. They chat in Spanish for a few moments—his accent is flawless, of course. Maria glances at me and he gives her a big smile. “ Esta mi amiga Cole.”

“You are welcome here,” Maria says in halting English with a large smile, grabbing both of my hands. For a split second I wonder if she’s Akhet too, but all I feel is genuine warmth. “Please, sit down. Would you like a menu?”

I wasn’t going to eat, but the smells from the kitchen are making my stomach growl. “Sure.”

The chairs scrape the floor as we pull them out and settle down facing each other over the small gray table. Maria hands me a menu and then winks at Drew before she walks back to the counter. Drew doesn’t say anything, just sets his phone faceup on the table.

I look over the top of the laminated menu. “Expecting a call?”

“No.” He pushes a few buttons and numbers start racing across the screen. “I’m setting the timer. Should the hour start now, or from when I met you out front?”

I try not to smile. “From now is fine.”

“Great,” he says. “I got a six-minute bonus.”

I scan the unfamiliar dishes on the menu, not knowing what to get.

“Do you eat pork or chicken?” Drew asks.

“Both.”

“I’d try the pork, chicken, and green chile pupusa platter. It’s one of the best I’ve ever had.”

“Okay,” I say, ordering his recommendation when Maria comes back to the table with our water.

“I hope you’re not planning on stealing food off of my plate,” I say when Drew doesn’t order anything.

“Maria already knows what I want,” he says. He looks around the small restaurant with something that looks like pride. “I used to come here a lot when I first moved to San Francisco. For just a couple of bucks you can get enough food to last you the entire day. After a while, Maria started slipping a few extra things in here and there with my orders.” He shrugs. “It was just nice to be in a place where someone noticed you, you know?”

I nod. That’s why I like going to the same café every day. We may not be on cheek-kissing terms, but I don’t ever have to tell them what name to write on my cup. “How long ago did you move here?”

“Four years ago,” he answers. “When I was sixteen. Got off the bus with a backpack and a duffel bag and not much else.”

“Hmm,” I say, reassessing one view of him.

“Hmm, what?” he asks.

“Nothing. It’s just that I thought you were older.”

“I’m twenty in this lifetime,” he says. “For all that age really matters.”

I think about the way Mom and Dad still treat me like a kid. “For a lot of people, it does really matter.”

He laughs. “I see your point. The fact that I can’t legally drink or even rent a car is a complete joke.”

“So you were all by yourself?” I feel old enough to make my own rules, but I don’t know if I’d want to land in a strange city alone.

Drew plays with the straw wrapper on the table. “Yep. My parents aren’t Akhet, and I got tired of being told what to do. Emancipated myself, got on a boat and then a bus, and finally landed here.” He drags the wrapper through a drop of water and it expands like a wriggling worm. “They were pretty angry about it at first, but I know that was because they were scared for me. Can’t blame them, really. Things are better now, though. I try to get back to Australia and see them as often as I can.”

“Why San Francisco?”

“Something was just pulling me here; it felt like this was where I was meant to be. I didn’t know why then,” he says, then looks up at me. “But I do now.”

It’s my turn to study the cracked tabletop, and I’m relieved when Maria comes with our food so that we have something to do. So much of me feels like I shouldn’t be here, that I’m betraying whatever might be left of me and Griffon just by agreeing to see Drew, but there’s a tiny part of me that wants to understand this thing we started five hundred years ago. To find some answers to the questions my memories are uncovering.