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"Why are we here?" I asked, "What if someone sees me?" 

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"Why are we here?" I asked, "What if someone sees me?" 

"They won't." Stephen said, briefly touching his necklace  to make sure. He looked odd in civilian clothes, very out of character. I hadn't seen him wearing a simple pair of black slacks and a white button-down in ages. 

I bet this is what he looked like as a surgeon.

"How do you know?" I sat down on the checkered blanket he'd laid out on the grass for us and poured us both a cup of pink lemonade, "They might." 

"They won't," He urged, "Let it go and enjoy the moment. I don't do this often." 

"I know you don't," I smiled softly, "I live with you, remember? You just study your magic all the time." 

Stephen nodded stiffly when I embraced him quickly and timidly padded my back. When I let go of him, he offered me an apple. It was bright green and juicy when I bit into it, its taste sour and sweet at the same time. 

"What if I lose control? There's a lot of people here. Innocent people." I said between bites.

Stephen didn't look up from the heavy, hardcover book that laid in his lap and pinched the bridge of his nose, "You won't."

"You're lying," I said. 

"Am not," said Stephen. 

"It's bound to happen sooner or later and you know it. You just don't want to tell me because you're afraid of triggering me. You think that because I'm only seventeen, I'm gullible," My voice cracked.

"You know I can't tell you what's going to happen in the future," he shook his head, "Firstly, because it's not allowed. Secondly, the future changes constantly. It's inconsistent. I can look at all the possible outcomes, but people change their future based on the decisions they make. I won't know which outcome is the one that actually happens until it actually happens." 

"There must be something you can tell me. Come on, anything. You can't just rub that stupid necklace in my face and expect me to ignore its entire existence." I raised my brow and wiggled it as I peeked at Stephen from behind brown-tinted sunglasses.

"There's a thunder storm coming," he said finally.

"What's that?" I pushed my sunglasses on top of my head and looked up to the sky. Clear. 

"What do you mean? Like, now? Should we go?" 

"No, not now. It'll take a while. You'll know when it matters." With that, he turned back to his book. 

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