T W E L V E

I'm starting to wonder if guys always call early when they want to take you out for coffee.

It was the first day of winter break-on which day I normally sleep in. But nooooooooooooooo, I couldn't do that, Max had to call for coffee...

My phone was playing White & Nerdy by Weird Al, which was the ring tone that plays whenever Max calls now. I picked it up and made a zombie-groan sound, followed by "Ugg."

"Hey, Kim, you wanna come for coffee at Starbucks? I need to tell you something."

I had stat up so fast that I hit my head on the roof and was nearly blacked out, but I managed to say "Sure."

And now I'm meeting him at 9:30.

I frantically search for something to wear. It's not like I can't find anything I could wear, but I need to find something that is right, which sounds really girlie... but if Max has something this important to tell me then I want to look... Ok, that sounds vain... Just forget it, ok?

I pull out some Converse All Stars, skinny well-worn jeans, and a Bonafide Love Music Stars Tee under a blue and white striped sweat-jacket,.and look at my clock. 9:00. I grab my black fingerless gloves and head out the door.

At Starbucks, Max is sitting in the largest, fluffiest, oldest armchair I've ever seen. It's so big that he sinks into the torn upholstery and the back is so tall that from behind I thought the chair was empty. The chair was double-wide, so I could have sat with him if I'd wanted to and there could still be a good two inches between us, but I chose to sit on the matching chair across from him. There was a little table between us.

"Hi Max," I said, trying not to mess with my sleeves.

"Hey Kim. You want anything?" He took a sip of his drink.

"Hot chocolate would be nice. Double whipped cream." God, did I just say that the hot chocolate would be nice? That was stupid...

A few minutes later, he came back with my drink. I fingered my sleeve nervously before taking it from him. You know, in the orange-tinted light of the cafe, Max's hair looks like little golden threads?

I sipped my hot chocolate. "So, you had to tell me something?"

"Yeah. So Jazz told me that you like to draw mythical things?"

I'd never been questioned about my drawings before, so this was a little weird. I got pretty defensive. "Yeah, what of it?"

He laughed, and I frowned. "Chill Kim!" He smiled. "I just wanted to know if I could see them!"

I blinked. "Uh... Okay?"

We walked to my house, where Mary tilted her head to the side and looked confused for a moment, then very knowing. She thought I'd dumped Spike to go out with Max!

"Mary, this is Max, one of my very good friends." I gestured to Max.

"So you are not..." she asked.

"Just friends." I bounded up two flights of stairs and into my room. "Here Max, you wanted to see my drawings, and here they are."

The pictures covered the walls anywhere where there wasn't a poster. Entire bookshelves were devoted to my sketchbooks in the next room. Max looked at each one closely, reading the dates and times I'd drawn them. Sometimes he'd move his lips, like he was talking to the sketches, but no sound would come out. I think he paused longest at the one I had drawn most recently-A scene from my dream.

"What inspires you?" he asked, without turning around.

"I don't really know. The one you just saw-with the little winged-girl and boy-was from one of my dreams..."

"Do they move?" he questioned, turning around.

"Uh, sorta, I guess. But they can't, they're just art."

"Do you see them?" Max took a step closer to me.

"Well, yeah. I drew them."

"Now, do you see faeries?"

"Sometimes..." I trailed off. Why did he want to know what I saw? None of it was real, anyway.

He was silent. "Kim, who was your mother?"

"Alexis Collins. She died years ago."

He mumbled something to himself. "Come on, I want to show you something."