Chapter 21

"I can't believe you," he spat. "You lied to me."

This was the third or fourth time he'd said this, pacing and shouting at me while I sat in the grass. I was beginning to gather my bearings.

"I didn't technically lie to you," I started, but was quickly cut off.

"Don't," he ordered. "You – just forget it." He stormed away as best as his injured leg would carry him, but stopped after about 20 feet. I could see his anger transitioning into sadness and frustration as he glanced up at the arch, then stared at the ground and sighed.

A few moments later, he walked slowly back. I stood up, almost flinching as I waited for his next bought of anger to be unleashed.

"Look," he started in a slow, controlled voice. "You know why I told you all that? About my parents, where I came from? Because I decided you were worth it. You mattered - I wanted you to know."

"Skittery - " I wanted so badly to apologize, but he cut me off again.

"Let me finish," he continued, clearly trying to rein in his emotions. "And since I decided that, I realize now that I'd be no better than her" – he nodded his head towards the arch – "if I left now."

I gave a visible sigh of relief.

"But." He glanced up at me, his eyes fiercely bright. "If you want to continue to matter to me, I expect you to return my favor and tell me where you came from. All of it."

I stared at my boots.

"Now," he ordered.

"You're not going to believe me," I whispered, still avoiding eye contact.

"Try me," he challenged.

So I finally told him everything.

"The future." He repeated, his voice monotone. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if I'd just given him a headache. "Maybe you're not a liar. Maybe you're just crazy." He stared off into space for a moment, contemplating. Then his eyes lit up, like he had an idea.

"Maybe I'm dreaming. Or I have a fever, on account of my cut." As he leaned over to look at his leg, I gave him a quick pinch on the arm.

"Hey!" he snapped, glaring at me. "What gives?"

"Proving you're not dreaming," I answered. "Besides, I've been wondering – hoping – that this is all just a dream. So far, seems real."

Skittery rubbed his arm and continued to stare at me.

"Still don't believe, me? Fine." And with that, I dumped out the contents of my backpack, which fortunately had barely left my side since I got here. Out spilled my laptop, phone, and the H&M David Beckham underwear.

"Proof," I said, showing him my phone and laptop. "Also, these are for you." I handed him the H&M box.

As he sat there, an incredulous look on his face, I gave him another quick pinch to the arm. He gave me a "what was that for" look, but much less angry this time.

"Just reminding you that you aren't dreaming."

He gave a quick laugh, and a small smile. Then, without warning, he stood and started walking towards the arch. I sat and watched him as he stood admiring it for several minutes, until something on the side of it caught his attention.

Skittery stooped over to stare at one particular spot on the arch. It took me several seconds before I realized he seemed to be reading something. He stood, looked around, then bent over to re-read it.

What on earth is he doing?

When he stood back up, an entirely new look on his face. He rubbed the back of his arm where I pinched him, and glanced in my direction. His lopsided grin was in full form and he looked entirely amused as he began wandering aimlessly around the arch.

I couldn't help but grin back through my confused look, and was really curious what prompted that response in him. I repacked my bag and wandered over to where he'd been reading. I noticed a small quote engraved on the side of the monument:

"Let us raise a standard to which the wise and the honest can repair. The event is in the hand of God" – Washington

A chill ran down my spine. The full understanding of what had happened in the park today began to hit me. Somehow, everything seemed to make sense.

I repeated the quote to myself. "Let us raise a standard to which the wise and honest can repair." Hadn't that just happened? My coming here – and the mess I made while doing so – had ultimately caused Skittery to come to some life-changing revelations. I felt proud for a second, but quickly realized that while my mildly controlling behavior may have contributed, it was Skittery who'd done the work. Wise and honest for sure. And was he repaired? It's at least a start.

As I continued to think it through, my head spun - once again landing on the question I'd had since I'd woken up in the alley, which now felt like years ago. But why am I even here? I stared back at the quote, re-reading the second part.

"… The event is in the hand of God."

"Deus ex machina," I whispered to myself.

Still shocked, I looked up at Skittery, who still had a very amused look on his face as he wandered under the arch, appearing as if he'd just now really seen it for the first time. His eyes were newly alive, as if he'd just been let in on some big life secret.

I glanced back to the quote.

Maybe he had been.