gently on her outstretched hand.
“Hi there!” She pulled it inside her room.
He was beautiful, with perfectly shaped wings, smooth black feathers, and little black eyes. He perched on her hand, quiet while she ran her finger from the top of his head down the length of his body.
“Celeste, are you up?” Her mom knocked on the door.
“Um, yeah! Be out in a minute.” She put her hand out the window. “Go,” she whispered. The bird flew off, returning to the nearby tree.
Celeste yanked off her clothes, put on an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and wrapped her favorite robe around her.
She paused as she put her hand on the doorknob because she had one again. When did her dad fix that? She heard her parents in the kitchen. They would most likely want to finish their talk, and it was probably going to suck. She wasn’t very good a lying to her parents because she usually didn’t have to do it.
When she walked into the kitchen, her dad was reading a business journal, coffee in hand. Her mom cooked eggs over the stove.
Her dad glanced up at her as she walked in. “Morning, babe.” He had an easy smile on his face and went straight back to his paper.
“I made you some eggs and toast.” Her mom slid the plate in front of her.
“Oh, thanks.”
She sat and stared at her dad while he read his journal. He folded his paper and put it away when his wife brought him a steaming plate of five eggs and three pieces of toast. “Thanks, doll.”
Her mom sat with her plate in hand. She beamed at Celeste and her husband. “This is so nice for us to just sit and eat together.”
Her father nodded in agreement. “Nothing makes me happier than my two beautiful girls.”
Celeste pasted a smile on her face then dug into her eggs. What the heck was going on? Were they playing some sort of game?
“So that Tink is something else!” her dad said. “I like him.”
Her mom laughed. “Of course you like him, he’s gay. He’s safe.” She pointed her yolk-covered fork at him. “I know you, mister.”
Celeste smiled. “Yeah, he’s been a good friend.”
“Good, honey,” her mom said. “Did you have a nice birthday?”
“Yes, it was great. Thank you,” she said.
This was getting weird.
She finished her eggs and toast, left her plate in the sink, announced she needed a shower, and retreated to her room.
Holy crap. What had he done?
She needed her cell phone. Where had she left it? She plowed through her room. Of course, it was on her desk, a sticky note attached to it.
RYLAN 455-9284
Well, that was something. She dialed the number and listened to it ring, one, two three times before it clicked into voicemail. Even through voicemail, his voice caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. “You’ve reached Rylan, leave a message.”
“Hey, um, call me. Whatever.” She slammed her phone down on the table.
It rang as soon as she put it down. She answered without looking caller the I.D. “Hello?”
“Oh, my God. Thank you for answering your damn phone! I’ve been calling forever. Are you okay? Did anything happen?”
“Tink,” she said. “Oh.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. So, seriously, what happened? Did something happen?
“Yes, something did. A lot of somethings,” she said.
“Oh, my God! I’m on my way over.”
“How long will it be?” she said, but the line was already dead in her hands. “All right, then.”
She was sitting on her floor, rummaging through her drawers for clean jeans, when someone tapped on her window. She twisted to see, and of course, it was Rylan. Wonderful . She was in a tattered bath robe and her hair was everywhere. Since he was watching her through the window, it was too late to do anything about it.
She opened the window.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes, hurry. I have neighbors.” She glanced behind him to see if anyone was outside. Luckily, they weren’t.
“Well, you told me not to come in your room without your permission.” He smiled
“Hi there!” She pulled it inside her room.
He was beautiful, with perfectly shaped wings, smooth black feathers, and little black eyes. He perched on her hand, quiet while she ran her finger from the top of his head down the length of his body.
“Celeste, are you up?” Her mom knocked on the door.
“Um, yeah! Be out in a minute.” She put her hand out the window. “Go,” she whispered. The bird flew off, returning to the nearby tree.
Celeste yanked off her clothes, put on an old pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and wrapped her favorite robe around her.
She paused as she put her hand on the doorknob because she had one again. When did her dad fix that? She heard her parents in the kitchen. They would most likely want to finish their talk, and it was probably going to suck. She wasn’t very good a lying to her parents because she usually didn’t have to do it.
When she walked into the kitchen, her dad was reading a business journal, coffee in hand. Her mom cooked eggs over the stove.
Her dad glanced up at her as she walked in. “Morning, babe.” He had an easy smile on his face and went straight back to his paper.
“I made you some eggs and toast.” Her mom slid the plate in front of her.
“Oh, thanks.”
She sat and stared at her dad while he read his journal. He folded his paper and put it away when his wife brought him a steaming plate of five eggs and three pieces of toast. “Thanks, doll.”
Her mom sat with her plate in hand. She beamed at Celeste and her husband. “This is so nice for us to just sit and eat together.”
Her father nodded in agreement. “Nothing makes me happier than my two beautiful girls.”
Celeste pasted a smile on her face then dug into her eggs. What the heck was going on? Were they playing some sort of game?
“So that Tink is something else!” her dad said. “I like him.”
Her mom laughed. “Of course you like him, he’s gay. He’s safe.” She pointed her yolk-covered fork at him. “I know you, mister.”
Celeste smiled. “Yeah, he’s been a good friend.”
“Good, honey,” her mom said. “Did you have a nice birthday?”
“Yes, it was great. Thank you,” she said.
This was getting weird.
She finished her eggs and toast, left her plate in the sink, announced she needed a shower, and retreated to her room.
Holy crap. What had he done?
She needed her cell phone. Where had she left it? She plowed through her room. Of course, it was on her desk, a sticky note attached to it.
RYLAN 455-9284
Well, that was something. She dialed the number and listened to it ring, one, two three times before it clicked into voicemail. Even through voicemail, his voice caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. “You’ve reached Rylan, leave a message.”
“Hey, um, call me. Whatever.” She slammed her phone down on the table.
It rang as soon as she put it down. She answered without looking caller the I.D. “Hello?”
“Oh, my God. Thank you for answering your damn phone! I’ve been calling forever. Are you okay? Did anything happen?”
“Tink,” she said. “Oh.”
“Don’t sound so disappointed. So, seriously, what happened? Did something happen?
“Yes, something did. A lot of somethings,” she said.
“Oh, my God! I’m on my way over.”
“How long will it be?” she said, but the line was already dead in her hands. “All right, then.”
She was sitting on her floor, rummaging through her drawers for clean jeans, when someone tapped on her window. She twisted to see, and of course, it was Rylan. Wonderful . She was in a tattered bath robe and her hair was everywhere. Since he was watching her through the window, it was too late to do anything about it.
She opened the window.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes, hurry. I have neighbors.” She glanced behind him to see if anyone was outside. Luckily, they weren’t.
“Well, you told me not to come in your room without your permission.” He smiled
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