Impossibly me, ch. 1 I shouldn't exist

We walked around half of the high school in silence. Mike seemed to be thinking about something, looking at me all the while. I couldn't really read the emotions in his face; he seemed to be content and anxious and appreciative all at the same time. He seemed happy enough just to be in the presence of someone who acknowledged that he existed, though, which was nice.1

As for me, I didn't have anything to say. Well, okay. I had a lot to say, I just didn't want to say it, nor did I have any idea how to even begin. Mike glanced down at his old-fashioned watch briefly, and then looked up at me and smiled again. This kid was chock full of smiles. I looked at his watch as well; it was almost two fifteen. The high school would be let out in another fifteen. We finally settled down on a little blue bench by the flagpole at the front of the school. The weather was pleasant, about seventy degrees and breezy, just right for April.2

I decided to start with a question that had been bothering me ever since I had noticed him staring at me in the hall this morning.3

"How did you find me?" I asked, looking at him intently. Only now that we were sitting down did I really look carefully at him. His eyes were easier to see now, and they looked more greenish now, almost turquoise in the sunlight. He had a sunkissed face and a few freckles on his nose. His hair was boyishly uneven and his bangs covered most of his forehead lightly. His clothes, now that I thought about it, would stand out in a crowd, seeming to be a little worse for the wear. I was surprised I hadn't singled him out earlier. They seemed strangely foreign or hippie-ish, though when each garment was studied separately it seemed ordinary enough: a worn down dark green tee shirt with some faded red design on it, looking like it had said Guns and Roses at one point or another; his pants were ordinary jeans, faded blue, evidently a little bit too long and you could see where the bottoms had frayed with time; his shoes were red converse, or at least they used to be, as they were also rather weathered and had evidently been patched up once or twice. It was obvious he was a traveler. I looked down at my own clothes out of the corner of my eye, and noticed they weren't exactly inconspicuous either; I hadn't bothered much with fashion since people couldn't see me anymore and whatnot. My hair was unfashionably long, about to my lower back, a boring shade of dark brown, and I usually let it flow down without pinning it up. It never really got in my way.4

"Actually, it was a complete accident," he admitted earnestly. "I do a lot of traveling, mostly looking for others like myself, or just doing what I've always loved most. I'm originally from New York, but I've been going from place to place, hoping I'll get lucky and find someone like myself. I go to schools sometimes, seeing as how populous they are. I usually grab some books, too, since people never notice if I do. It seems that somehow they never notice anything that we affect in the world.5

"When I got here-- this is Chicago, correct?" he asked suddenly. I nodded quickly and he continued. "When I got to this school I didn't think it was anything special. But then I saw you moving through the halls. It seemed natural enough at first, but after watching you for a minute or so, it became evident that the natural, unnoticeable way everyone got out of your way was more than coincidence. Furthermore, you went to some classes and not others, randomly leaving a classroom without anyone noticing. I'm a better spy than you might think," he added when he saw my surprised look.6

"I began to wonder. I decided there was only one true test I could do, and that would be to talk to you. I managed to meet your eye before I did that, and just the shock in your eyes as I stared at you gave you away. I knew you could see me, and you know I could see you. Then I saw you switching people's lunches, messing with a girl's hair... all obvious ways to see how you affected the world. And you probably came up with the same results both of us always did: fate always thinks of a way to explain what we affected. When you switched the peoples' lunches, it was instantly put into their heads that they had wanted to switch lunches and had just done so, and the other girl whose hair you messed up became convinced that her friend had messed it up earlier, with the same thought occurring to everyone else around her."7

This time, I was the one who grinned. "Damn," I said, "You're good."8

"I know." He shrugged.9

A pleasant spring wind picked up and rustled the leaves of a nearby tree noisily. Some wind chimes echoed in the distance. The flag just above us beat a few times, then settled as the wind died down.10

"I wonder," I said aloud, looking at the now-limply hanging piece of red, white and blue fabric, "If I set the flag to half-mast, would the president die?"11

He looked at me, a skeptical look in his eye. "You can only take experiments to a certain point before they become unethical."12

"Knowing the world's matter of fact way of working," I argued, "It would probably just end up being some kid messing around with the flag."13

"You don't know that," he protested, and I gave it up. It was a pointless bit of conversation.14

"So how long have you been this way?" I finally asked, looking at his watch again. We only had about five minutes until we would be in the middle of a noisy crowd of teens.15

"Nine years," he said, "Since I was eight." So he was seventeen, same age as me. He looked somewhat older. I looked at him with probing eyes, silently urging him on. He obliged and continued. "It happened randomly," he said, thoughtful. "One night, I went to bed, and the next morning, I woke up and nobody could hear, see or sense me in general. My parents thought I had run away; they called in the police and everything." He had a bittersweet expression, and I felt his grief, but at the same time could tell it didn't hurt anymore.16

"I stuck around their place for a few weeks," he went on, looking out at the school parking lot blankly, "And I went to school, where the same thing seemed to have occurred: nobody noticed me. I figured this thing wasn't going away, and it was time for me to go; there was nothing left for me at home.17

"So that's how I've started traveling. I went up and down the whole east coast and eventually went out to other parts of the states. It takes time, searching each city, so I've only managed to search about half of America in ten years, and probably not that thoroughly nonetheless." Here he shrugged and looked at me, seemingly finished. "How about you, Jen?" he said when I didn't reply, digesting what I had just heard.18

"Well," I said, the words coming without my really paying attention to what I was saying, "I was ten and it was early October, and I went for a bike ride. I kinda wrecked it a couple miles from my house so I just walked home, but that was when it started. Police found my bike a few days later and figured I'd died in the crash, or stumbled somewhere to die. Obviously, they never found my body." I shook my head, trying to break loose of the dreadful tone of voice I had taken on.19

"Anyway, I had no idea what was going on, but it dawned on me after a few days it wasn't going to change, and I dealt with it. I pretty much tried to live the same way I would have had this strange phenomenon not happened to me; I continued living with my parents, going to school, doing homework, going out with friends-- I mean they never notice me, but still..." I looked at him and managed a half smile. "And here I am," I said, motioning with my hands around me.20

He nodded slowly, looking at me like I had just said the most interesting thing he had ever heard. Then he let out a quiet laugh. "You have no idea how glad I am that I found you," he said brightly, changing the direction of the conversation. "The loneliness was really starting to get to me."21

"You're telling me," I said with a sigh. We were silent for a few minutes, each in our own little world, thinking about different things. I was happy; at first his presence had put me on edge, my senses sharp and my mind muddled, but now he had a sort of calming effect on me. It was very pleasant, and I was suddenly hit with a wave of joy that anyone else who hadn't had a conversation in seven years would have felt at the sight of someone. I couldn't help but suddenly beam happily, and he looked at me with a questioning look.22

"I'm glad you found me, too," I told him, and suddenly felt like I was in a horrible soap opera. I shuddered. 23

The bell rang and I stood up swiftly, remembering where I was. "Come on," I said, grabbing his arm, "Let's get out of here. I'll show you where I crash."24

Almost immediately the wide lawn in front of the school filled with throngs of prattling high school students, moving in all directions like a flood. We quickly walked past the parking lot and to the street, and then settled into a more easy pace. I lived about five blocks away, so we had time to talk some more.25

"So," I began, looking up at him. It was easier to talk to him sitting down, when there was less of a height difference; this way he was more than half a foot taller than me. "What is your theory?"26

"Theory?" he answered.27

"On, well, us," I said, smirking a little.28

He looked at me with a flashing smile. "Thought you didn't want to talk science."29

"Oh? Quite the scientist, are we?" I said, rolling my eyes.30

"I study a lot on the road," he said, "I said I take books from schools, but I do so from universities too. I have a lot of time on my hands, in case you didn't notice."31

"You're not one of those science freaks, are you?" I teased.32

He had shifty eyes when he answered. "Maybe?"33

I sighed. "The theory, please."34

"Right." He cleared his throat, and I knew it would be a complicated speech. "I think there is another governing force that affects the world, like fate, I guess. It's enforced as much as a law of physics, and it usually helps the world function properly, without any paradoxes or impossible problems. But it has a few... errors in it, I guess. A few exceptions, like us. I'm still a little iffy on how we came to be, but I think that maybe fate decided we were supposed to die, but science decided that we were supposed to live, and they both worked out, in different ways."35

I nodded smartly, pondering what he had said. "I came up with a similar conclusion," I confided, "And truly there's not really much of any other one you can come up with."36

"Yeah," he agreed. "But trust me, if I knew more information, I would have made the explanation a lot more complex." He winked and I felt myself blush a little, not really sure why. I'd never been a shy person when I was younger, but it might have changed in seven years. It was hard to say, really.37

We arrived at my front porch then, and I skipped up the two steps to the light blue front door. I pulled the key out of my pocket; I'd taken one from the drawer long ago and my mom had dismissed it as a lost key. I unlocked the door and we stepped into the empty house. My parents were still at work and my older brother Seth was in Michigan for college. I flipped on the light switch in the dim hallway the door opened into; it would be dismissed as a light forgotten to be turned off later. 38

"Here is my humble abode," I said needlessly, motioning to the house dramatically.39

"It's gorgeous. You got any food in here?" he asked, and his expression turned very boyish. I laughed and led him into the kitchen to make us some frozen lasagna.