I walked through the unraveled wall of Celeste’s house out to the front yard where she and Leslie waited. Leslie stood with arms crossed while Celeste sat on a log, scribbling furiously into her journal.
“See,” I told Leslie as I reraveled the wall once I’d stepped out onto the grass. “Easy.”
“And you’re sure this will work on… ” Leslie paused, casting a wary glance at Celeste. “Other walls?” Leslie finished.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I replied to Leslie’s question.
Leslie turned to Celeste. “Have you told anyone about this?” Leslie asked aggresively. “Why are you so interested? Why have you been taking notes?”
“Leslie!” I called, shocked they had suddenly turned so hostile. When they looked to me, I asked with a scoff, “What are you doing?”
“Just making sure everything here is,” they glanced at Celeste, “secure.”
I scowled at them. “It’s fine,” I said. “There’s no reason for you to act like an interrogator with my friend.”
Leslie huffed. “Look, I- Are you writing this down?!”
I turned in time to see Celeste slam her journal shut, looking back at Leslie with an innocent grin. “Hm? What?” she responded.
Leslie stepped toward her. “Do I need to burn that?” they asked angrily.
I stared at them in shock. Leslie glared at Celeste. From her log perch, Celeste looked back up at them in amusement.
I rested a hand on Leslie’s shoulder as I gently nudged them away from both Celeste and her house. Once we were far enough away that she wouldn’t hear us, I said, “I don’t remember you disliking her.”
“Iewtkedfelkrjer a few times,” they muttered.
I frowned. Where was this coming from? Had I been wrong about Celeste this whole time? “I’ve been practicing reraveling with her for a long time,” I stated. “We started before I volunteered. And I haven’t given her any details. We can trust her with this much.” At least I hoped we could.
Leslie started to say something, but clamped their mouth shut instead. Then they sighed, rubbing their eyes. “Look,” they said, “you might trust her, but I don’t. I’m going home.”
After Leslie left, I returned to Celeste. “Did you really write all that down?”
Celeste glanced toward the path where Leslie had gone. “They don’t seem to like me very much.”
“I… I think,” I started, “they’re just being cautious.”
“I get why they’re mad,” she said. She tore out a few pages from her journal. “It was a private conversation.” Celeste crumpled up the paper into a ball. “I’ll burn it.”
“Thanks,” I replied softly. It would have been better if she hadn’t written anything down in the first place, but I couldn’t blame her for thinking it would be fine with Leslie when I never cared what she wrote about me. I was wondering if maybe I should have.
“So,” she began, her pen ready to write, “are you going to keep practicing today?”
“No,” I replied. “I’ve had enough today. I’m going home.”
To be continued…