Part 8


Britney bounded into the house with her usual enthusiasm. “Guys? I’m here!” she called out, slamming the door behind her.

“In the kitchen,” came Justin’s voice.

She walked down the hall and entered the kitchen, spying Justin, JC, and Lance sitting at the table drinking coffee. Suddenly, a dizzying wave of déjà vu struck her, and she swayed in the doorway.

“Brit?” Lance said, leaping from his chair to catch the girl before she fell. He placed her in a chair and knelt down beside her as the other two men looked on.

“Sorry,” she said, holding a hand to her head. “I just got this really strong feeling, seeing you three here.” She looked at the men. “Like I’ve seen you sitting like this many times, and it’s so familiar, but then it’s not.” She shook her head. “Does that make sense?”

Justin and JC exchanged a glance. “Yes, it does,” JC said, getting Britney a glass of water. “It’s actually why we asked you two to come over today.”

Lance rose from the floor and took the seat next to Britney. “Explain, then.”

Justin nodded, running a hand through his hair. “This is going to sound really bizarre,” he began.

“Weirder than you and JC living a previous life?” Lance asked.

“I think so,” Justin said. “Brit, we told Lance about Chicago, and the fact that Chris has been acting strange, and that according to Harriet Logan, he lived in the past, too.”

Britney turned to Lance. “Isn’t that the freakiest thing?” she asked.

“Brit,” JC said. “We need to tell you this.”

“Oops, sorry.” She waved a hand. “Go on.”

“Anyway, last night, JC and I had a dream about our past lives,” Justin explained.

Lance’s eyes narrowed. “Who had the dream? You or JC?” he asked.

“Both of us,” JC answered. “We had the same, identical dream, and it was of us in the past. I mean the other JC and Justin.”

“And you two were there,” Justin finished.

Britney grinned. “Really? What did I look like?”

“Pregnant,” both men answered.

Lance choked on the sip of coffee he was drinking. “Pregnant? But I thought your previous selves were…” his voice trailed off as he figured it out, a bright red blush staining his cheeks.

“P-p-pregnant?” she screeched.

“But a very pretty pregnant,” Justin assured her.

“But—but—who?” Britney noticed Lance’s embarrassed face. “Really?” she asked. She cocked her head, obviously considering the possibility. Lance squirmed under her gaze.

“There’s more,” Justin said, getting their attention. He proceeded to tell Lance and Britney about Chris and the knife. “Now, we don’t know what happened after Old JC jumped at him, but remember, the newspaper said there was blood all over the place.”

“You think Old Chris killed Old Justin?” Lance asked.

“But if so, where did they go?” Britney asked. “Remember, the paper said both JC and Justin disappeared.”

“That we can’t figure out,” JC said.

“Unless we have another dream,” Justin concluded.

Britney smacked her forehead. “Duh! I completely forgot!” She pulled her bag onto the table and started to rummage through it, coming up with a scrap of paper held in her hand. “HA! Here!” she said proudly, holding the paper out to Justin.

“Sylvia Lightfeather,” he read, then looked at Britney. “And Sylvia is?”

“A hypnotists!” she exclaimed. All three men blinked. “She’s a profession, really. A psychologist or psychiatrist, one of those. She helps people by hypnotism, and can research past lives!”

“How did you find her?” JC asked.

“Yellow pages,” she explained.

JC and Justin exchanged a laugh. “Why didn’t we think of that?” JC said.

“Because you’re too close to it,” Britney said wisely. “You have an appointment with her at 1:30 this afternoon,” she continued.

“You think of everything, don’t you?” Justin asked.

“I try,” she replied.

JC glanced at the wall. It was already noon. “I’m going to get ready,” he said, rising from the table. “But you two will come with, right?” he asked Britney and Lance, who both nodded.

Justin also stood up. “I’ve got some errands to run, but will meet you there, okay?” JC nodded, and walked Justin out of the room.

Leaving Lance and Britney in the kitchen.

Alone.

Lance looked around the room, out the window, at the wall. Anywhere but at the girl at the table.

“So,” she said, reaching out and touching his arm.

Lance reluctantly turned toward her. “So,” he said, his voice deep.

“We were, uh, together, in the past.”

“Looks that way.”

“Just like JC and Justin were together in the past,” she mused.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Only that history sometimes repeats itself.”

“No, not really.” Lance squirmed in his seat. “Look at Chris. It wasn’t until JC bought this house that he started acting all weird and wonky.”

“True,” she agreed. “But don’t you think we might consider the possibility?”

“Don’t,” Lance said, his voice strained with emotion.

“Don’t’ what?” she asked.

“Don’t tease me,” he said, rising from the table and walking to the glass door. “Don’t’ play with my emotions. You know I’ve always…”

She followed him, standing right behind him, and slowly placed her hands on his shoulders. “You’ve what?” she asked, feeling him tense at her touch.

“I’ve always loved you, dammit!” he exclaimed, turning around and grabbing her by the arms. “So don’t tease me about it!”

She smiled sweetly. “Why would I do that?” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his, reveling in the feel of his arms as they snaked around her, loving the feel of his body pressed against her own.



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