Changeling (Completed)

Day Twenty-One

Day Twenty-one - Nine days left

I have been spending all my time with Grant. The clock is ticking, for both of us, but faster for him. I have pushed everything else to the side to be with him. Benjamin knows all about him, having come to find me when I didn't wake him up rudely at four in the morning for the second day in a row. He has left us be.

Ronson is another story. He has been showing Shana off, parading her around, but I know better than to fall into petty jealousy. Grant is going to be gone, soon, and I may never see him or another Changeling again.

Or, I might find him again. I might have a friend over and over. The thought of that is... amazing.

Now Grant has only a few hours to one day left. There is no knowing exactly when on the thirtieth day you die. It could be right away, or in the last second, or any moment in-between.

"Then I was like, Sammy, that's a British galleon. Duh. Oh my goodness, he was cute but what a God-awful pirate."

"Yeah, so I looked him up, he was captured only like, a week after you died."

"Shut up! You are so good at the Internet!" I beam proudly at Grant and ruffle his hair.

"You're so old," he mumbles.

"Hey, next time you could be eighty-nine and I could be seven!"

"Or, we could both be nubile, young, sexy things," he waggles his eyebrows at me.

I burst into laughter. "Eww, Grant, I am so not a pedophile!"

We both jump at the loud bang from the hallway. I jump and run to the door, peering out at Ronson's back as he stalks back down the hall.

Shit.

I sigh and go back to Grant.

"He is sleeping with her, you know," he says softly.

I try to smile through my tears. "I know," I whisper back. I told him all about Ingrid's life with Ronson. Grant is a good listener.

A knock on the door makes me stiffen.

"Innie? May I come in?"

"Yes?" I call back,  uncertainty in my voice.

Goon walks in, looking as gigantic and menacing as usual. "You need to make up with the alpha, Innie," Goon stares at me with his weirdo glowing eyes.

"No," I pout, crossing my arms over my chest. My eyes narrow on him until I see him shift uncomfortably. Should I take another stab at revenge? This time Goon shall feel my wrath. I'm sure he probably deserves it.

"Please," Goon floors me by saying. "He's miserable without you. I haven't seen him like this in a long, long time."

"Innie's sad, too," Grant pipes up.

Goon shifts his eyes to Grant, one eyebrow quirking up. "All the more reason for them to make up."

"No," Grant answers for me. I nod, sagely agreeing with my teenage friend.

"How about I make you both a deal?" Goon says soothingly. "I'll bring you shopping if you go comfort Ronson in his office."

"Shopping?" Grant scoffs

"For some daggers?" I ask excitedly, nudging Grant with my elbow,

"No." Goon's response is unequivocally hard.

"No deal," I respond grumpily.

Grant snickers, then brightens. "I have an idea!" He smiles. "You play us in a board game and the winner gets to decide what we do. Shopping or..." he gags, "making up."