Once safely in my room, I began to think. It was so nice to know that
CeeCee and Adam were FINALLY going out. Well, I assumed they were. You
don't kiss a girl that hard for nothing. And the tongue department was
getting pretty electrified. CeeCee must have been in seventh heaven about
now. . . Not that I'm thinking what CeeCee and Adam are doing right now,
guys! But judging by the way that Adam had been winking at my albino
friend, I had a pretty good idea.
Anyway, I needed to talk to Jesse about this thing that we'd heard from CeeCee's Aunt Pru. I mean, that palm reading thing was complete rubbish, but I think she was being honest with the Egyptian stuff. I don't think she could really lie about it. Well, technically, it is possible, but she wouldn't.
Surprisingly, the person I wanted to talk to the most was Paul. Funny, huh? I mean, he claims to be The Genius on this crap, so he should know a bit about stuff like Egyptian peoples? I have no idea.
'Jesse, get your arse here, I want to talk about thing Egyptian thingamabob with you,' I drawled. With a unearthly shimmer, Jesse dematerialized, looking incredibly hot. I mean, out of all the guys that get murdered, why do they have to kill off the cute ones? Why couldn't they off dudes like Paul? Mind you, Paul's no dag. He's actually pretty good-looking, with a nice manly figure, distantly resembling Jesse's. Not that
I'm an expert on Jesse.
God, I wish. . .
I realized I was staring at his chest area, and quickly snapped my gaze to the floor.
'So, uh, Jesse, what do we do now? I mean, I didn't really understand what CeeCee's Aunt was going on about, so that was why I was kind of hoping that you at least were paying attention-'
Yeah, so I was babbling. Nothing new. So he didn't have to start laughing like that!
'Querida-' HE CALLED ME QUERIDA AGAIN! '-I have been thinking about it, and I have thought of a plan. I trust that you remember what their job in Egypt was?'
'Uh. . . No, not really,' I muttered.
He chuckled. 'They were scribes. You know what scribes were?'
'Jesse, I'm not at freaking school, just tell me,' I snapped. Although I used a rather colourful alternative word for "freaking." Jesse blinked, and grinned again.
'Scribes recorded history. They were like. . . reporters, you may say nowadays,' he smiled wryly. I rolled my eyes. '-but their history lasted forever. They wrote in hieroglyphics, and so, I am assuming that they understand them. So, all we have to do is communicate with them through hieroglyphics.'
I stared at him.
'Oh, so you're an expert on the Ancient Egyptian system of lettering?' I asked sweetly. And sarcastically.
'Hardly. But I was just about to go and get a book on them-'
'No need,' I said, struck by a fantastic brainwave, 'Internet.'
'Oh, that's the thing with all the computers, isn't it?' asked Jesse carefully.
'You are learning, young grasshopper,' I approved. 'But I can't get on the computer now, so-'
'We'll figure out what we are going to say to them, write it down, print a copy of the hieroglyphic alphabet tomorrow, and I'll translate our message, ready to show them,' said Jesse, all professionally.
I gawked at him.
'Uh, okay,' I said, dazzling him with my wits.
He smirked. 'It's simple. So, what exactly are we going to say to them?' This was a message for me to get a move on and plan our letter, so I grabbed out a piece of lined paper and one of my fluffy pink pens, (to which Jesse snorted,) and began to write.
"Dead Egyptian people," I scribbled, my tongue hanging out slightly, "Why are you dead, what do you want, and what will it take for you to move on?"
I handed it to Jesse, looking apprehensive. 'Okay?' I asked.
'No,' he smiled. 'Give me the quill-'
'It's called a pen, Jesse.'
'Oh, ah, okay the pen.' I handed it to him. He stared at the furry feathers uncertainly, but shrugged. He began writing. I waited. He handed me the page once he had written for about a minute. I stared at the beautifully formed cursive along the page under my bubbly, round writing, with all the little love hearts and circles to dot the "I"s and "J"s. Oh, and even the full stops. It was a wonder he'd been able to read it.
'Naeemah, Jafari, Amun and Khufu,' I read out loud, in a slightly mocking voice, 'Susannah is what your people call a shifter. She can see and communicate with the undead, and can move across the astral plane to purgatory. She wants to help you. Please write what is keeping you here on earth, and why you think you haven't already gone to your next life.'
I snorted. I mean, it was good and all, but I wasn't going to give Jesse that satisfaction. He'd bagged my try, hadn't he?
'What?' he asked defensively.
'Oh, nothing,' I assured him sarcastically. 'It's absolutely fine.'
His look darkened, and I decided to stop teasing. I don't like getting dark looks from Jesse. They are seriously scary. Oh, and plus the fact that I am deeply and utterly in love with the dude, and I don't want to get in his bad books, hey?
'Jesse, it's good. Now what do we do?' I asked.
'Wait until tomorrow,' he said. 'I'm going back to the rectory.'
'But Jesse,' I said, hoping to catch him before he dematerialized.
'Yes, Querida?' he asked, almost hopefully. Huh?
'Listen, I-'
'Yes?'
I stared into those inky black eyes that seemed to drape me with a protective, warm feeling. His look was almost. expectant.
And I didn't have the courage to tell him the truth.
'I wanted to say sorry about that thing in the graveyard,' I said, shaking my head. 'I was being stupid.'
Whoa. His face, like, totally collapsed. Like he was disappointed or something. I knit my eyebrows in confusion.
'Being stupid,' he repeated dully, and then nodded. 'It's okay. It wasn't your fault. I was, ah- being stupid, also. Please forgive me?'
'Of course.'
'And Querida?'
'Mmm?'
'Sweet dreams. . .' This wish for my sleep to be peaceful was accompanied by a very rewarding action.
He kissed me!
Okay, don't get excited, it was on the hand. But hey, I'm not complaining! I smiled graciously.
And obligingly, I had very sweet dreams. All of which contained the very same sweet guy.
Anyway, I needed to talk to Jesse about this thing that we'd heard from CeeCee's Aunt Pru. I mean, that palm reading thing was complete rubbish, but I think she was being honest with the Egyptian stuff. I don't think she could really lie about it. Well, technically, it is possible, but she wouldn't.
Surprisingly, the person I wanted to talk to the most was Paul. Funny, huh? I mean, he claims to be The Genius on this crap, so he should know a bit about stuff like Egyptian peoples? I have no idea.
'Jesse, get your arse here, I want to talk about thing Egyptian thingamabob with you,' I drawled. With a unearthly shimmer, Jesse dematerialized, looking incredibly hot. I mean, out of all the guys that get murdered, why do they have to kill off the cute ones? Why couldn't they off dudes like Paul? Mind you, Paul's no dag. He's actually pretty good-looking, with a nice manly figure, distantly resembling Jesse's. Not that
I'm an expert on Jesse.
God, I wish. . .
I realized I was staring at his chest area, and quickly snapped my gaze to the floor.
'So, uh, Jesse, what do we do now? I mean, I didn't really understand what CeeCee's Aunt was going on about, so that was why I was kind of hoping that you at least were paying attention-'
Yeah, so I was babbling. Nothing new. So he didn't have to start laughing like that!
'Querida-' HE CALLED ME QUERIDA AGAIN! '-I have been thinking about it, and I have thought of a plan. I trust that you remember what their job in Egypt was?'
'Uh. . . No, not really,' I muttered.
He chuckled. 'They were scribes. You know what scribes were?'
'Jesse, I'm not at freaking school, just tell me,' I snapped. Although I used a rather colourful alternative word for "freaking." Jesse blinked, and grinned again.
'Scribes recorded history. They were like. . . reporters, you may say nowadays,' he smiled wryly. I rolled my eyes. '-but their history lasted forever. They wrote in hieroglyphics, and so, I am assuming that they understand them. So, all we have to do is communicate with them through hieroglyphics.'
I stared at him.
'Oh, so you're an expert on the Ancient Egyptian system of lettering?' I asked sweetly. And sarcastically.
'Hardly. But I was just about to go and get a book on them-'
'No need,' I said, struck by a fantastic brainwave, 'Internet.'
'Oh, that's the thing with all the computers, isn't it?' asked Jesse carefully.
'You are learning, young grasshopper,' I approved. 'But I can't get on the computer now, so-'
'We'll figure out what we are going to say to them, write it down, print a copy of the hieroglyphic alphabet tomorrow, and I'll translate our message, ready to show them,' said Jesse, all professionally.
I gawked at him.
'Uh, okay,' I said, dazzling him with my wits.
He smirked. 'It's simple. So, what exactly are we going to say to them?' This was a message for me to get a move on and plan our letter, so I grabbed out a piece of lined paper and one of my fluffy pink pens, (to which Jesse snorted,) and began to write.
"Dead Egyptian people," I scribbled, my tongue hanging out slightly, "Why are you dead, what do you want, and what will it take for you to move on?"
I handed it to Jesse, looking apprehensive. 'Okay?' I asked.
'No,' he smiled. 'Give me the quill-'
'It's called a pen, Jesse.'
'Oh, ah, okay the pen.' I handed it to him. He stared at the furry feathers uncertainly, but shrugged. He began writing. I waited. He handed me the page once he had written for about a minute. I stared at the beautifully formed cursive along the page under my bubbly, round writing, with all the little love hearts and circles to dot the "I"s and "J"s. Oh, and even the full stops. It was a wonder he'd been able to read it.
'Naeemah, Jafari, Amun and Khufu,' I read out loud, in a slightly mocking voice, 'Susannah is what your people call a shifter. She can see and communicate with the undead, and can move across the astral plane to purgatory. She wants to help you. Please write what is keeping you here on earth, and why you think you haven't already gone to your next life.'
I snorted. I mean, it was good and all, but I wasn't going to give Jesse that satisfaction. He'd bagged my try, hadn't he?
'What?' he asked defensively.
'Oh, nothing,' I assured him sarcastically. 'It's absolutely fine.'
His look darkened, and I decided to stop teasing. I don't like getting dark looks from Jesse. They are seriously scary. Oh, and plus the fact that I am deeply and utterly in love with the dude, and I don't want to get in his bad books, hey?
'Jesse, it's good. Now what do we do?' I asked.
'Wait until tomorrow,' he said. 'I'm going back to the rectory.'
'But Jesse,' I said, hoping to catch him before he dematerialized.
'Yes, Querida?' he asked, almost hopefully. Huh?
'Listen, I-'
'Yes?'
I stared into those inky black eyes that seemed to drape me with a protective, warm feeling. His look was almost. expectant.
And I didn't have the courage to tell him the truth.
'I wanted to say sorry about that thing in the graveyard,' I said, shaking my head. 'I was being stupid.'
Whoa. His face, like, totally collapsed. Like he was disappointed or something. I knit my eyebrows in confusion.
'Being stupid,' he repeated dully, and then nodded. 'It's okay. It wasn't your fault. I was, ah- being stupid, also. Please forgive me?'
'Of course.'
'And Querida?'
'Mmm?'
'Sweet dreams. . .' This wish for my sleep to be peaceful was accompanied by a very rewarding action.
He kissed me!
Okay, don't get excited, it was on the hand. But hey, I'm not complaining! I smiled graciously.
And obligingly, I had very sweet dreams. All of which contained the very same sweet guy.