Rewritten

Chapter Twelve~ Keefe

After a delicious breakfast, Keefe and Dex returned to Dex's room.

"So when do I get to meet this Forkle guy?" Dex asked as he and Keefe seated themselves on Dex's large bed.

Keefe shrugged. "I dunno," he mumbled.

"You're stalling," Dex said.

"Maybe I am," Keefe agreed.

"You really don't want to go?" he questioned.

Keefe ripped a hand through his blond hair. "No! I don't know! I mean---UGH!"

Dex fidgeted with a gadget he was working on. "I thought so,"

"Dex, what do I do?"

Now it was Dex's turn to shrug. "I dunno," he said, "You should talk to Sophie,"

Talk to her?

Would Foster even care if he stayed?

Thousands of memories flashed through his mind.

But it landed on one.

I could never hate you, Keefe...

She would definitely hate him if he told her he wanted to stay.

Keefe dragged a hand down his face. "Ok," he decided.

He dug out his Imparter and hailed Foster.

No answer.

He tried again.

No answer.

He tried a third time.

Still no answer.

"Maybe she's sleeping?" Dex guessed.

Keefe chuckled. "Foster doesn't sleep,"

"Wait! I know where she is!" Dex said.

"Where?" Keefe wondered.

"Atlantis!"

Atlantis? Foster rarely goes there. "Why?" Keefe asked.

"She goes every Saturday with Biana," he explained. "They're best friends,"

"Should we go?" Keefe wondered.

"No!" Dex said quickly---a little too quickly...

"Why?" Keefe pressed.

Dex's face tinted pink. "Because---uh,"

Keefe smirked. "Because..."

Dex bit his lower lip nervously. "Can...I tell you a secret?"

Keefe loved juicy secrets. He nodded.

"Well..." Dex's voice trailed off "I-well-Biana...ya know?"

No. Keefe didn't know what 'I-well-Biana' meant.

He shook his head. "Sorry, I don't speak Dex. If you could put it into the Enlightened Language, that would be nice,"

A deeper blush crept over Dex's face. "Ilikebiana," he mumbled, his words mushing together.

Keefe heard him that time, but he wanted to hear it again. He cupped his hand around his ear and asked "What was that?"

"You heard me!" Dex said, his face redder than a tomato.

"Why don't you want to see her then?" Keefe wondered.

"Multiple reasons." he said defiantly.

When he didn't elaborate, Keefe questioned "And those reasons are?"