Thump!

  Thump!

  Alex groans at the oddly rhythmic sound, shutting her eyes even tighter. She couldn't remember the last time she had slept this nicely, and was intent on dragging out this small win for as long as she–

  Thump!

  “Yes, I heard you! I'm getting up!” She yells, and her eyes open to reveal, marble ceiling?

  Thump!

  She lifts up abruptly, features screwing in confusion on noticing her sad grey room walls have been replaced with the kitchen sink overnight. “What--?”

  Thump!

  Her head whips towards the direction of the sound. The upstairs window. It was probably a relentless pigeon–she had been a bit surprised to learn that birds didn't see glass–unless someone had gained the ability of flight while she was asleep,

  Thump!

  A little bit of focus has her deciphering the sound being a bit too heavy to be any kind of low flying bird, and she scrambles to her feet, almost slipping on a puddle of melted ice cream on the floor. Shuffling over to the door, hand on her head to quell the sledgehammer hard at work in there, she unlocks it and yanks it open. Hand quickly shielding her face from the rays of the sun that was apparently in on the plan to get her this morning.

  Thump!

  She inclines her head round the corner and sees Chris hopping on one leg, other socked foot dangling unsupported as he tosses his shoe repeatedly at a window on the 2nd floor. Her room window.

  “What are you doing?“ She asks, startling the hell out of Chris. He flails wildly and loses control of the shoe, it clunks him over the head.

  “Alexandra fucking Jordan.” He seethes quietly. Alex winces at the bite of the tone. “I have been outside here knocking, for 4 hours and 30 minutes!” he erupts, and Alex rears back in shock. He had been there that long?

  “Where the hell is your phone?!” He thunders.

  She does a quick pat down of herself revealed it wasn’t on her– “Not with me.”

  He opens his mouth, a stern lecture about to leak through, before narrowing his eyes at the dried flecks on her face.

  ”Is that blood on your face?” he asks, face morphing into fear. He steps forward to inspect her, hands hovering but not outright touching. “What in God's name happened?!”

  This is a surprise to Alex who stops to cringe at her reflection on the windows, while Chris bypasses her to enter the house hurriedly.

  Sometime before the present …

  Alex is seated opposite Chris and Lilian, therapy style. They had been seated this way for over 30 minutes now, Lilian and Chris shifting the entire inch of the sofa nervously. Clearly they had something important to discuss with her, that much she could suffice. The way they were acting however, was starting to make her suspect it was about a rather significant issue.

  She watches Chris’ right leg stomp a vibrating beat on the carpeted floor below. After the 32nd minute of Lilian opening her mouth and then closing it without making a sound, Alex decides to take the reins on this thing.

  “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes.” Lilian says with relief of someone else starting the proceedings. “Alexandria, we're worried about you.” she says, and elbows Chris when he misses his cue.

  “Naturally, we're staging an intervention.” He adds, a bit late to Lilian’s starter.

  Alex blinks. “Oh. I've never had one of those before.” she cocks her head to the side in thought for a moment. “This might turn out to be a pleasant experience.” She rubs her hands in anticipation, and Chris sighs.

  “You're not meant to be happy about it. That's why it's called an Intervention.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry.” Alex says, and schools her face into utter solemnity. “Go on.”

  Lilian, bless her heart, continues. “We noticed you seem rather lonely most of the time.”

  “And you have no friends.” Chris adds offhandedly, earning a side eye from his wife.

  Alex looks affronted. “Whatever made you think that?”

  Lilian reaches over to grab her hands in placation. Alex lets her. “It’s just, we never see you talk with anyone, or bring anyone home …”

  “And you have no friends.”

  “Chris.”

  “Well, we all know she doesn't. Lilian.” Chris says.

  Alex can’t help but chuckle internally. Her social life had warranted said intervention, Chris and Lilian treating her lack of it like some kind of debilitating disease. Times like these made her just a little bit grateful to have lasted as long as she had, just a little more proof each day that humanity wasn’t at all the lost cause she had inferred it to be. Lilian says something, and she schools her face into thorough affront. Wouldn’t want to make it a walk in the park for them now.

  “We're not trying to pry, but have you considered seeing somebody?” Lilian asks hesitantly, and Chris stiffens.

  “See, that right there is prying, honey.” He bites out, and Alex gets the feeling Lilian had gone off script.

  “It's not prying, if we're trying to help her.” she parlays.

  “Personally, I think it's the sort of thing she's meant to figure out by herself. I mean she’s hardly a 12 year old child.” Chris responds, desperately trying to veer the conversation from the direction his wife seemed intent on taking it. Oh, this Intervention thing was entertaining as hell, Alex wouldn’t mind sitting through a couple more of them.

  “Oh my God, Chris!” Lilian whispers, or thinks she whispers furiously. “This is not a united front!”

  Chris lowers his head towards her, “Yea, well you kinda skipped the Matchmaking chapter, when you were pitching me the idea.” He imaginary whispers, and Alex is too amused to not comment.

  “You guys know I can still hear you, right?”

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  They could be in Timbuktu, and she would still be able to zero in on whatever conversation they were having. Not that they needed to know that particular peculiarity of hers.

  Lilian turns to her with a graceful smile. “What we're saying is, maybe you should try to spend time with people other than us.” She resumes from six conversations ago, not missing a beat. If that wasn’t a talent right there.

  “Yes, people your own age.” Chris fumbles to keep up, eyebrows knitting in realization of what he had just uttered. “No, that's not right. Scratch that.”

  Alex holds back the smile threatening to break out with the conviction of a thousand years. “I'm not complaining, I like spending time with you guys.” she says softly.

  Lilian’s steely resolve melts at the tone. “And we love you spending time with us as well. But–”

  “Basically, Lilian wants you to get a Boyfriend. Or Girlfriend. Or … Person-friend. Whichever works for you.” Chris finishes, and the abruptness of the sentence is too blatant to ignore this time.

  “Wow.” Alex exhales, while Lilian solicits some higher power in the sky for strength.

  “He’s being something of an asshole about it,” Lilian lovingly squeezes her husband's shoulder. Hard. “But he's right. There has got to be someone you like.”

  A magnificent build up to a borderline tepid climax, Alex thinks. “There isn't.”

  Chris sits up in attention now. “Someone you liked?” he asks.

  “Nobody.”

  “It might be some lost love?” Lilian sits forward as well.

  “Nope.” Why weren't they letting this go?

  “From the 12s or 1300s perhaps?” Chris persists, with a frown now situated on his face. And Alex has to inhale deeply so as not to scream.

  “I know.” She says, after quelling a much more venomous reply. “There's no one.”

  There is a bit of an awkward silence where Lilian doesn't know what to do with her hands, and Chris stares unwavering at her.

  “Okay, now I mean to pry.” He breaks the silence, and Lilian lets out an ‘Oh, Chris’ under her breath.

  “You're telling me you've never been attracted to anyone before?” He asks, completely flummoxed. And that look on his face puts Alex right back in an amused mood.

  “You don't have to say it like that.” Lilian starts another session of the non-whispering, whispering thing again.

  “I'm sorry, but I am utterly shocked right now.” Chris whisper talks, before turning back to Alex. “Is that how things work, where you're from?”

  And wasn't that a funny question seeing as Alex had no idea where she was from.

  “Quick reminder, I have no idea where I'm from,” she says and Chris winces at his blunder. “But I'd like to think I had parents and didn't just drop from the … sky.” she trails off and something itches at the back of her head. Like a story, or a memory–

  “Alex!”

  She blinks focus back into her eyes, the couple in front of her both wearing worried expressions.

  “So yes.” She resumes, “I was probably born, just like you.” She finishes.

  Chris nods at her response, deciding she's alright and fit for conversation once more, Lilian is still staring a bit dubious, but even that changes as soon as Chris opens his mouth again.

  “I was asking if they um …” Chris takes a breath to steel his nerves. “Copulated?”

  “Christopher Jordan!” Lilian lets out a scandalized gasp that Alex simply has to laugh at. “You do not say things like that!”

  Chris blushes puce, shoulders rising and dropping in a shrug. “Oh please, It's for research purposes.” And his red-purple face makes Alex laugh even louder.

  “Now she's laughing at us, Lilian.” He says again with a glare at his wife.

  “She's laughing at you.” she corrects.

  “Okay.” Alex says, when she's a bit settled, and her lungs have taken in sufficient air. “I'm just gonna clear up the confusion.”

  She shifts forward in her seat, refusing to embrace the nervousness trying to creep in on her mood. “I'm not attracted to anyone. I never have been, and no, it's not a ‘species trait’. It's a personal one.”

  There's a moment where no one says anything and a little bit of that nervousness creeps in closer.

  “Is that a good enough explanation?” She asks a bit desperately.

  “Of course it is, Alex.” Lilian replies softly, “It's perfectly fine.” She nudges at Chris beside her who has his head buried in thought.

  He looks up with a slight frown. “I don't think I– Oh.” his eyes swell in realization. “Nevermind, it's fine.” He finishes, and the pensive look disappears completely from his face.

  Alex lets out a silent breath of relief.

  “I can't believe you two were about to give me ‘The Talk’. I am older than both your ancestors combined.” she quips, settling back in her seat.

  “In all honesty, I was against the whole thing at first.” Chris raises a dramatic hand to his chest, and Lilian huffs.

  “Please Chris. You were simply scared.”

  “I wasn't scared. I was being cautious.” he fields, and Lilian ignores him, turning back to Alex.

  “I still think you need a friend.” She murmurs softly, and Alex deliberates.

  “Well I have a brother. I don't know if that counts.” She says after a second of consideration.

  She looks up at Chris and Lilian, both with matching looks of utter shock. And rears back in suspicion.

  “I take it, it does count?”

  “You have a brother?” Lilian screeches, and Alex has to refrain from throwing her hands over her ears.

  “Yeah, but–”

  “Since when?” Chris interrupts, eyes darting around the house, as if searching for said brother.

  “Well it's–”

  “Where is he?” Lilian asks again, and if they would actually let her get a word in–

  “Oh, he's actually–”

  “And why haven't you mentioned him before?” Chris asks, completely distressed.

  Both Chris and Lilian stare at her in anticipation of an answer, Chris even going as far as flapping a hand, in urge for her to hurry up. Now they were ready to listen to answers.

  “Oh, I can talk now?” She asks, an imperious eyebrow arched in faux annoyance.

  Alex follows distractedly behind him, nearly smacking into his frozen form just in front of the door.

  She peeks around him, to see what made him stop so abruptly and winces at the reddish green puddle on the ground. A wonderful bowl of ice cream now ruined, she laments.

  “Tell me you did not throw a ‘rager’ in the house.” Chris says, as calm as can be.

  “I swear, I did not.” She responds, before she has a moment to think about it. Then again, last night was a blur. “I think.” She adds, just to cover her bases.

  Chris stares at her, not quite sure whether to be pissed or concerned. Her eyes wander to inspect him in turn, confirming he is indeed alright, and she can't help but grin a little at his missing left shoe.

  “Are you okay?” He asks, with a bit more composure this time.

  “I don't know.” Alex says, and glances her reflection on the window. “I can say I feel a lot better than I look though.

  Chris relaxes some. “This is good news. Because you look like you tried to stop a bullet train with your face.” Alex chuckles at the statement. He was making jokes again, good.

  He leans against the back of the couch. “What do you remember?” He asks, crossing his arms.

  “I was over by the fridge, trying to get some Ice Cream,” Alex has her head angled as she recalls, “then I get this very brutal headache. Next thing I know, you're trying to smash bulletproof glass with your shoes.” she finishes with a wave at Chris.

  “I was scared shitless. I thought something had happened to you.”

  “Apparently, I'm fine.” She says with a shrug, her eyes narrowing as she thinks– “Hold on, why didn't you have your keys?”

  Chris uncrosses his arms and struts away from her. “There was a freak thing with the weather last night, I thought it might be you?” He picks the remote up from the floor where it lies, and changes the station on the TV.

  Alex on the other hand is having a hard time remembering anything past the last 10 minutes. She massages the sides of her head with a grimace, ultimately succumbing to the severe pounding in her head.

  “If it was, I'm not aware of it.” She settles on instead.

  Chris hums. “Anyway, hurrying here I must have forgotten the keys.” he says, and is suddenly too interested in some nonsense on the TV.

  “You don't know where you left them, do you?” Alex asks.

  “I really don't, no.” He admits.

  Alex scrunches her eyes shut. “Of course.” She groans softly, her hands shooting to frame her aching head. Chris places a hand on her shoulder.

  “What's wrong?”

  “I've never experienced a hangover before, but I imagine this is what one feels like.” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

  “I think you should see Akio.”

  Alex groans again. “I'm fine, Chris. I just need a little nap, that's all.”

  “I'm sure you are.” He insists, “but it doesn't hurt to check.”

  She removes herself from his hold and stalks into the kitchen, fetching herself a glass of water. “I'm alright. There's no need worrying him over minute things.” she says and gulps the water down rapidly. Chris eyes her thoroughly.

  “Alex, you woke up in a puddle of blood and Ice Cream, and barely remember how you got there. Now unless ‘minute’ has taken on a different meaning–”

  “20 minutes. I take a nice, long shower, clean this place up, and I'll be back to fun old Alex in record time.” she says, willing him with her stare to give into her suggestion.

  “Who says you're fun?” Chris rears back in over exaggeration, and Alex makes an affronted noise.

  “You take that back, I am fun!” She points a finger at him, and Chris has no qualms playing dirty.

  “What would Lilian want?” He asks, Alex's protests dying in her throat.

  “You know she'd have wanted you to see someone, make sure everything was alright in that can of yours.” He shifts his face into something particularly pitiful, and Alex groans in defeat.

  “That's a-- Really Chris? Using your dead wife as blackmail?” She runs a hand through her short hair, already sticking up on end. “This is a new low even for you.”

  “Not if it's for a good cause.” He informs her before starting out the kitchen. “You flying or you driving?”

  She follows behind him. “I never said I was going.”

  He repeats the question again, this time infusing it with all the seriousness he's capable of. Which is a lot when it comes to his family's well-being.

  “Flying.” Alex sighs. “I'd like to get this over with.”

  Chris nods in satisfaction. “Done, I'll book you a flight. Last time you used my jet, you trashed it and didn't clean it up.”

  Alex tilts her head in recollection. “That actually wasn't me, I loaned it to this girl for her bachelorette thing.” She says.

  Chris huffs incredulously. “That's even worse, you giving out something that wasn't yours in the first place.”

  He whips out his phone and types something rapidly on it, nodding at the little ‘ding’ he receives a while afterward.

  “And please clean up before you leave. I can't have people out there thinking I run a fight club in the basement.” he says once his gaze lands her again.

  Alex studies the puddle, then him. “That's all you're worried about, how I look?” She asks, arms folded across her chest, eyebrows raised in accusation. Chris looks a little sheepish, and Alex grins in victory.

  “Right, I'm sorry. Clean up the Ice Cream too, I had those floorboards flown in from Rome.” He says, wiping the smug smile from her face.

  He starts up the stairs to his room, only daring to smile at her annoyed reaction when he's sure she can't see him.