by Nelly Asher
***
“Sorry, I can't leave the pan unattended for long... I'll go to the kitchen, and you make yourself at home,” Adeline winked to her daughter.
“Where can I wash my hands?” Evanford immediately asked.
“I'll show you around... But first, let's at least put our stuff somewhere,” Selena went into the living room and was about to put her bag on the couch, but Kevin said:
“Are you going to drop the weapon in the middle of the house?”
“Oh, right,” she headed to her room. Evanford frowned. Something occurred to him just now:
“It was said that only the objects that came from the outside world can leave the Pocket. And this is logical – if it was possible to pull the products of sick imagination out of one's head, the results would be disastrous. Thus, the revolver originally came from here.”
“Ok, maybe... So what?” the girl asked with suspicion.
“I'm stating a fact. I don't have enough information to come to any specific conclusion,” the mathematician shook his head. However, Kevin had some conjectures... Selena got used to H-32 quite fast. It's possible that it belonged to her before, back in the time they don't remember. And there's a reason the gun was returned to her. But whom does it benefit? On one hand, some means of self-defence are necessary. But Gelia was the one leading them to the revolver, and Kevin had great doubts that her twin's well-being is something the blonde cares much about. In the hands of a nervous, scared girl a weapon may cause more harm to her own self. But Evanford couldn't suggest anything specific, so he decided not to annoy Selena for nothing and keep silence. As if feeling his look, Selena turned around:
“Should I leave your plate in the room, or are you going to carry it all the time?” she took the license plate, ran into her room, threw everything on the bed and quickly went back. It took mere seconds, but she spoke to Evanford in such a tone like he was standing there for hours: “Are you still here? The bathroom is right there, go wash your hands! Or are you afraid of the door?” she turned on the light, threw the door open and bowed jockingly, gesturing him to enter.
Kevin stepped onto the worn green tiles. Bathroom was not that much smaller than in his uncle's mansion, but for some reason it seemed awfully cramped. It felt like any movement will send something flying on the floor; like the sink is placed way lower than it should, and his head almost hits the ceiling. Evanford stood still, trying to figure out what makes him feel this way. Seeing his confusion, Selena muttered:
“Oh boy, you can't even open the faucet?” she stepped into the bathroom, moving him away with her body, and turned on the water. “Ah, it's hot!” the girl jerked her hand back, pushing Kevin. His sense organs still sending mixed signals, it felt for a second like he's falling, so Evanford grabbed Silver's shoulder on a reflex.
“What's wrong with you?!” she wrapped her arms around his waist, trying to keep him from falling. They froze for a few moments, looking each other in the eye. Kevin realized that explanations won't make the situation any better.
“Sorry. It's just...” he let go of her shoulder and waved his hand indefinitely. Senses more or less returned – the walls moved apart, the sink was on the level it should be. Selena cautiously removed her arm, as if being afraid that her companion will start falling again. She brushed the soap with her palm, quickly rubbed her hands under the water and left the bathroom. Kevin washed his hands way more thoroughly.
“That's ok, you'll get to eat something now, cause you seem to be so exhausted that you're about to drop dead from a single flick,” Silver said with a smile. Feeling the tasty smell coming from the kitchen, she cheered up. Friends went to the living room and sat on a couch. Selena leaned back onto the soft pillows, enjoying her rest. Kevin was sitting straight, looking like he's listening to something tensely
“What's the matter?” the girl asked. “It feels like you're sitting on a pole.”
“I can't recall where I know this smell from...”
“Oh, it's one of mom's speciality dishes. She loves cooking and usually comes up with everything herself, but I'm not sure about this one – maybe she got the recipe somewhere. And you could smell it in a restaurant or in someone's house, who knows,” Silver shrugged. “I've read that smells stick in your memory better than other senses. Though it's hard to recreate them in memory, once you feel them, you immediately recall everything connected to them.”
“Selena, I need some help here,” Adeline called from the kitchen. She was cutting vegetables for the salad. When her daughter came in, the woman pointed at the second cutting board and a knife. “Let's do it together, it'll be faster.”
Selena took a cucumber and began to cut it. She realized perfectly well why her mother actually called her, but wasn't going to account for anything. After a short pause, Adeline spoke:
“You know how I usually feel about your way of choosing boyfriends... But I do like this one. I see that you got more mature in the university, started to take things more seriously. I'm happy for you.”
Silver didn't reply. She was chopping the cucumber faster and faster, barely missing her fingers. She was always annoyed by conversations like that, and in this case it's definitely better to just say nothing. Seeing that straightforward questions bring her nowhere, mother decided to change the subject somewhat:
“Coming here must've been a very sudden decision – you didn't say anything and didn't even take anything with you... At least you've got your bag, but your friend carried nothing but a license plate,” she smiled.
“You know, it's a complicated story... Let me explain you later, when the dust settles,” the girl replied in a tired voice. If everything ends well, she will think something up. And if not... Then it won't matter what mother thinks about today's story. “We aren't here for long, we can leave any minute. I'll explain you later,” Silver repeated. She turned away and went on cutting vegetables, then suddenly asked:
“Where did you get the recipe?” she nodded at the pan.
“It's one of mine, of course,” Adeline replied proudly. “It's requires some practice to be done properly, I didn't teach this one to you yet. But I can write the recipe down if you want.”
“Maybe some other time,” Selena said gloomily, stabbing the cutting board with such a force that the knife got stuck in there, but immediately took it out. She shouldn't give Adeline another reason to worry – if mom will ask any more questions, she'll definitely lose her temper.
