After the exuberant and unexplainably odd events of my morning I decide to skip class. I'm going to community college for a business degree, after two years I'm hoping I'll have a better idea of what I want to do with my life and maybe transfer my credits to another college. But still, I don't feel bad for not going today after what's happened. .

I throw the breakfast the boy cooked into the trash—eggs in a basket and sausages—if you were wondering. I check the locks on the door and windows then get dressed. Then I check locks again, brush my hair, and do my make-up. Then I check the locks again and pour myself a bowl of cereal even though I don't feel hungry. I pick up my phone and check my messages while I check the locks.

I'm half tempted to lie back down and try to sleep more. To rid myself of this living nightmare, but if I'm not going to class then I'm at least still going to be productive with my morning before I have to work. I need something to distract my thoughts anyway so I swing my messenger bag over my shoulder and check that the mace is still attached to my keys and leave my apartment. I double check to make sure it's securely locked behind me before I make my way down the stairs and out of the building.

I hop on the bus before the doors close and find a seat in the back. The headphones do a good job of blocking out the noise and I find some soothing music to play to help calm my nerves. I jump at everything. Each time the doors of the bus open at a new stop I scan the crowd of passengers. For some reason I keep expecting the British boy to appear magically, just like he did in my bathroom.

He doesn't appear and when my stop finally arrives I climb out of the bus and walk a block down to Beean's, the coffee shop where I work. The glass on the front is decorated with bees whose bodies are coffee beans. It think it's meant to be a spunky and cute name to attract the hipsters but the reality is the shop is a local favorite with people over the age of forty. But, I get free coffee and it's a place to study, so there's that.

I open the door and take out my headphones. "Hey Marley!" Beck greets from behind the counter. There's a long line of people this time of the morning and most of the seats are taken with people on their laptops. Beck is so flamboyant that it makes me smile every time he opens his mouth. He's like a child stuck in a twenty-eight year old's body and he's just about the only person who I work with that I really get along with and consider a friend.

"Hey Beck," I greet stepping up to the end of the counter near the back. There are three other employees working with Beck are working to fill orders as quickly as possible. In an hour the crowd will have slowed down tremendously, mornings are always the worst. Beck talks while he works on filling cups.

"Erica?" he calls after he secures the lid on a to-go cup. A woman steps up to the counter and takes it. "Have a nice day," he smiles and starts on the next order. "What brings you in so early? I thought you had class this morning?" He looks at his watch to check the time while he waits for the milk to steam for a customer's latte.

"I didn't go today," I say honestly. "Some...stuff came up this morning so I skipped." He clicks his tongue at me like he's disappointed and secures the lid to another drink. "Jace?" he calls.

"It's Chase," a man says annoyed and comes to take the cup. Beck ignores his correction.

"You want to start work early and grab some extra hours?" He throws me one of his charming smiles and I bat my eyelashes back at him, not falling for it.

"Actually I was hoping for a large cup of coffee to drink while I get some studying and homework done." He calls out another name and another customer grabs their coffee and leaves.

"Well get in line then," he says.

"Beck," I pout. "I thought we were friends."

"You know it," he says placing a large black coffee on the counter in front of me. There's a scribble of a heart drawn on the side from Beck's sharpie. He winks at me.

"Thanks, Beck." I wink at him. "I love you forever."

"Oh I know," he assures me and calls out a customer's name for second time, loudly. I shuffle off toward the couch in the back corner of the shop and claim a space before it gets taken. I take a slow sip of the scalding coffee then place it down to cool on the coffee table in front of me while I fish my laptop out of my bag and stuff my headphones back into my ears.

The rest of my morning goes relatively normal and there's comfort to be found in the routine of studying and working on my assignments. My mind drifts away from the events of the morning and soon I'm lost in the pages of my English assignment.

Someone taps the top of my laptop and I look up. It's Beck. I pull my headphones out and smile at him. "Hey," I say.

"You looked hungry," he says pointing to the bagel he brought with him.

"Oh thanks," I say and decide to take a break. The morning rush has passed and so Beck sits down across from me.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

"I'm fine, why?" I take a bite of the bagel and lick the extra cream cheese off my finger.

"You seemed a little off this morning when you came in," he shrugs. "Just checking in on you. How's the apartment?"

"Amazing," I tell him. "I'm still unpacking but I love it."

"Good, maybe you'll finally shut up about it," he laughs and I throw a small crumb from my bagel at him. It gets stuck in his styled blond hair and he picks it out and glares at me. "Do you know how hard it is to look this good?" he asks.

"You'll live," I promise him.

"But really, you're good?" he confirms.

I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. No worries," I assure him. There's no way I'm telling anyone about what happened. I'd rather sooner forget and pretend it never happened. I'm still not sure that it actually did happen anyway. Even though I still have a bump and my head aches, it just feels so impossible.

"All right, well I'm going to back to work then," he says and stands.

"I'll be joining you in an hour," I tell him and pick up my headphones again. I wish I could say that the rest of my day continued to go more normal.

Halfway through my shift my mom calls the coffee shop. Beck picks up the phone while he clocks out and divides his tips. He cradles the phone between his ear and shoulder. "Oh hello Mrs. Fields!" he says loudly and I snap to attention. I start shaking my head while Beck smiles knowingly at me. "Mmmhmm. Oh yes, I heard about that...mmhmm...." I continue to shake my head and make exaggerated gestures across my throat while Beck speaks to my mother in an overly cheerful tone. "Sure, I can do that, just give me one moment." He puts the phone down on the counter. "It's your mother," he smiles. "She would like to speak with you. She says it's important."

I glare at him and snatch the phone off the counter. "Then you watch the register."

"I suppose I can stay here a minute longer," he sighs.

"Ass," I snap and put the phone to my ear. "Hello mother."

"Marley," my mother says sharply as I slip into the back where I won't disturb anyone with my conversation. "Are you alright?"

I pause, confused. "What?" I ask.

"Are you alright? Has something happened?" she asks sounding panicked.

"Mom," I say. "I'm fine."

"You're sure?" she asks.

"Mom, I'm totally fine, what's going on?" I ask, feeling sick to my stomach. Why did my mom randomly call asking if something has happened? It feels almost too much for coincidence.

"I tried calling your cell," she says.

"I'm at work," I explain. "I keep it in the back."

"I know," she says. "But I just...I had a bad feeling. I started to panic. I thought something might have happened."

I roll my eyes and silently press my head against the wall of the back room. It's only been one day and already my mother is melting down. "Well I'm fine," I tell her. "Is that all you wanted? I'm on the clock, I need to get back to work so Beck can leave."

"Nothing happened at your apartment?" she asks, persisting. "Everything is fine?"

"No mom," I assure her, feeling weird about the entire conversation. "Everything is great. I told you I would call if I needed anything or if anything happened."

"I don't like this," she says, starting her familiar speech and I have to bite back the groan. "I just wish you'd reconsider staying at home, it's so much cheaper and your father and I—"

"—mom I don't want to listen to this again. I'm not moving back home, you're just going to have to accept that. Now I'm at work, so unless there is something else you needed...?" I wait a few seconds while my mother is silent.

She finally sighs. "No, I was just checking to make sure you were all right," she says quietly, like she's hurt, but I ignore the small twinge of guilt deep in my gut. I was going to grow up eventually; my parents had to know that.

"I'm fine," I assure her again. "I'll call you later tonight when I get home, OK?"

"Yes, all right," she says. "You can come for dinner if you want."

"No," I say. "That's OK, I already went grocery shopping."

"Alright," she says. "I'll talk to you later. I love you."

"I love you too." I hang up and press my fingers against my forehead. "Well that was weird," I say out loud.

"Everything good?" Anne, the other barista walks into the back with a tub of dirty mugs and plates to wash.

"Yeah," I say. Anne smiles at me and goes to the dishwasher. I go back up front and hand the phone back to Beck. "Sorry about that," I tell him. "Mom is acting weird."

"Don't say mean things about your mother," Beck scolds. "She's a lovely woman who's just looking out for you." Beck adores my mother and my mother finds Beck equally charming. She even asked why I didn't date him once, despite the fact that I've explained to her many times that I'm not exactly Becks type.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask as he takes his apron off.

"You shall indeed," he nods. "Have a good one."

"Yeah, you too." I watch Beck leave and let out a long quiet sigh. I have another three hours left on my shift before the other employees come in and I can go home and put an end to this horrible day. While it's slow I take a cloth and walk around the tables and wipe down the surfaces where an assortment of crumbs and coffee have collected. There are still a few customers sitting on their laptops around the shop.

I spray the small square mirror on the wall that's next to all the random paintings by local artists and wipe away the fingerprints that some child left behind. I scream loudly and drop the cleaner and cloth, quickly scurrying away from the mirror and knocking a chair over as I go. A dark shadow fills the mirror. There's no form or shape but it almost looks like the silhouette of a person.

The customers around the shop look up, startled by my scream and I swallow hard against the panic rising in my chest. I feel cold, like I walked over a grave in the middle of the night. "Marley?" Anne comes out from the back. "What is it?" she asks. Her black bob swings around her chin while she looks around for signs trouble. I look back at the mirror and see nothing but my own reflection.

"Sorry," I say loud enough that the customers can hear. "Sorry there was a...spider."

Anne takes a relieved breath. "You gave me a heart attack." Me too.

"Sorry," I say again and pick up the chair that was knocked over. "It's nothing. Sorry." The customers return to their computers.

"Just as long as you're fine," she says and walks back to finish the dishes. I pick up the cleaner and cloth with shaky hands and swallow hard. I'm losing my mind. I finish my job halfheartedly. I can't shake the cold that seems to have settling on my skin. Each time the door opens I jump. I mess up orders and spill coffee like it's my first day all over again.

Eventually the other barista's come to take over for the evening shift and I clock out and divide my tips as quickly as possible. I swing my bag over my shoulder and escape down the street as quickly as possible.

I drown my ears with loud music in an attempt to calm my nerves but even that doesn't help. I constantly look at the reflections in the shop windows while I walk to the bus stop. Something about the reflection looks different. I try to convince myself that it's my imagination but my brain is sending off alarms. I stand under the overhang and wait for the bus with the other dozen people.

My heel taps up and down rapidly against the pavement and I look at my reflection in the shiny plastic that protects the large ad for cologne underneath. I just see myself, and the other people waiting with me in its reflection. I turn away and lick my lips. I feel sick to my stomach and paranoid. Calm down, Marley, you're just worked up from this morning. I'm half tempted to call my mom and ask her if I can come over for dinner and maybe stay the night. But I stop myself. That would be like admitting defeat and I've only been at my apartment for a day.

I take a look at the business man standing next to me. He's texting on his phone with a smile on his face. I glance at my reflection again and freeze. I look over to the guy in the suit next to me and then back at the reflection and back again. The reflection is wrong. I see two people standing next to me in the reflection but in reality there is only the man in the suit.

The other person in the reflection is looking at me, dressed in jeans and a black shirt and nothing else. He's not even wearing shoes, as I stare he smiles at me. The bus arrives and I quickly find a seat in the aisle and avoid looking at the windows. I'm holding back a sob the entire ride and I grip my cellphone and keys tightly in each hand. What is wrong with me? What the hell is wrong with me?

I run to my apartment the moment I get off the bus. I take the steps two at a time and turn my key as quickly as I can. It doesn't help that my hands are trembling and my eyes are full of tears. I slam my door shut and secure the locks, double checking that they are in place. My phone buzzes in my hand and I yelp and drop it onto to the floor before realizing that it's not trying to attack me.

It's my mother. Her photo shows up on the screen, smiling at me as if she knows what's happening. I pick the phone up and swipe the screen to answer the call. "Hey," I say trying to sound as normal as possible despite the tears streaming down my face. I drop my bag at the base of my bed and fall onto the mattress. The smell of smoke and Nordic Spruce is oddly comforting and I take a deep breath to try and calm myself.

"Marley, I thought you said you were going to call when you got off," she says.

"I just got home, mom," I kick off my shoes and hear them fall onto the floor.

"Oh," she says. "Are you crying? You sound nasally." Before I can answer I hear my father's voice in the background. "Remind her that she needs to get another lock on her door. I don't like the one the landlord has there now."

"She knows James, stop being so overbearing."

"I'm not being overbearing I want to keep our daughter safe." They start to argue, as

they always do and I listen to them through the phone while I stare at my ceiling. I don't stop or interrupt them.

I moved out of the house to get away from their bickering and yet now it's the one thing calming me down. It's familiar, I hate it, but it's familiar. "Mom," I say finally. "I'm really tired. It's been a long day. So I'm going to go to bed."

"Oh, I'm sorry honey," she says. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm just tired. "I love you," I tell her. "Tell dad I love him too."

"Marley says good night and she loves you," mom says. "He says he loves you too, good night sweetie, I love you. Stay safe."

"Sure mom, night," I say and hang up. I pull my knees to my chest and pull the covers over me. I stare at the clock next to my bed. It informs me that it's only 8:00, but it feels like midnight. I know I should get my pajamas on, maybe brush my teeth, or even eat some dinner but I can't get myself to move off my bed. I'm not really tired enough to sleep, I'm too worked up, but I feel worn out like I've run a marathon and I'm still cold.

I stare the clock next to the bed and watch the numbers change for an hour. A knock disrupts my trance and I blink a few times and stare at the door. I imagined that, right? The knock comes again and I fall out of my bed when I try to get up too fast. The sheet tangles around my feet and I kick them away with a curse. Another knock comes and I press my eye the peek hole in the door.

A boy wearing a grey three piece suit and black tie is standing outside. I jump back like he can see me through the hole in the door. The knock comes again and then I hear his voice. "Erm, excuse me?" he calls through the door. "I was wondering if I might bother you a moment?" He knocks again.

Oh my God. Oh my God. This is not happening.

I grab my phone back off the bed and dial 911, I don't hit send. I unlock the bolt and peek through the small crack in the door, the chain is still secured so I know he can't get in even if he wanted to. "Look," I say showing him the numbers that are displayed on the phone. "I'm going to call the police if you don't leave me alone."

"Listen," he says. "I know this is horribly rude and I really wasn't going to come back here, but...well I was wondering if you might at all allow me to use your mirror?"

"I don't—my mirror?" I ask, confused.

"Yes," he nods with a smile. "I won't take but a moment of your time."

My thumb hovers over the send button on my phone. I should call the cops. That would be the logical thing to do. But still, today has been too weird and this guy showing back up is too much of a coincidence."What did you do to me?" I demand. "Did you drug me?"

"I—er—what?" he asks, confused.

"This morning, you drugged me didn't you?" I ask. "You slipped me something when I was unconscious, or you...did something." I shiver.

"I really don't know what you're going on about. I didn't do anything to you," he says earnestly. "Are you feeling well? You still look pale." I slam the door shut. My hand pauses on the chain a moment. I know better than to let a stranger into my apartment. But I unhook it, open the door, and grab the boy standing outside by the collar of his jacket and drag him inside. He stumbles forward, unexpected by my forcefulness and I slam the door shut.

"Listen," I say sternly and step forward to poke a finger into his chest, a rather firm chest I note absently. Using my best impression of my mother's stern voice I continue. "Ever since this morning things have been weird. I don't like it. Not one bit. I've been seeing things and I want to know exactly what you did to me and I want to know now. Or so help me I will call the police and have them here to take your British ass to our very American jail."

"Seeing things?" he asks, ignoring my threats. "What sorts of things?"

I step away from him. "Just reflections," I say. Reflections of things that aren't there.

He reaches out, like he might touch me, but then thinks better of it and stuffs his hand into his pocket. He starts pacing and I watch as he pulls a cigarette out from behind his ear, something I didn't notice before and pulls a silver lighter from his pocket.

"I'd really rather you didn't do...that." He never lights the cigarette. It sits between his lips and he flicks the lighter on and off but he never actually lights it. I watch the flame disappear and reappear again each time his thumb rubs down flint wheel, sparking the flame and then closes the lid of the lighter only to open it again.

I stand in confused silence, as the boy paces back and forth in front of me. He finally stops and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth and puts it back behind his ear. The lighter disappears and he pulls out his pocket watch to check the time and then returns it to his vest.

"My name is Daniel Ross," he says and holds out his hand. I keep my hands by my sides. "Please, if you'd be so kind as to give me your name?"

"Why?" I ask.

"So that we will not be strangers," he says offering a smile.

I hesitate a moment. "Marley," I offer.

"Marley," he says thoughtfully. "I like it."

"Whatever. Are you going to tell me what's going on? I'm pretty sure I'm losing my mind here so anytime you want to speak up would be great."

"Marley," he says, testing my name again, and then he nods. "You are not losing your mind. Do you believe in destiny?"

"No."

"No?" he asks surprised. "You seem so sure. You don't believe we all have a destiny? That there is such a thing as fate?"

"No," I say again. "What are you getting at?"

"My grandfather always says that everything happens for a reason. I believe there's a reason why I came through your mirror this morning. I think we were meant to meet."

"You're crazy. I'm calling the cops," I hit send on my phone and press it to my ear.

His eyes widen. "Marley," he says quickly. "Please, let me explain myself. Give me a chance. That's all I'm asking, I'm not trying to harm or trick or steal from you, I promise."

"911, what's your emergency?" I hesitate. "Hello?" Daniel doesn't try to attack me or stop the call. He just looks at me with wide blue eye, silently pleading with me to give him a chance. There's something about his expression, the way he looks at me, that makes me second guess myself. "Yeah, sorry, false alarm. I thought someone might have been trying to get through my window but it was just a stray cat. Sorry," I say and hang up.

Daniel closes his eyes and lets out a breath. "Thank you," he says.

"Do you want to explain why I'm even listening to you?" I ask.

"Because," he says. "You know deep down that what you saw today wasn't just your imagination."

I come to the very quick conclusion that Daniel is a very good looking boy. I watch him as he paces back and forth across my small apartment from my perch on the bed. His wheat colored hair is longer on top than on the sides and styled with some sort of gel that probably called testosterone or something. Or maybe that's his cologne, either way he smells like a mixture of cigar smoke and something manly and I can stop sniffing the air when he passes by.

His suit, as I observed earlier, is tailored to perfection and follows the lines of his body. He's tossed his jacket on the back of a kitchen chair and rolled his sleeves up again, showing off the veins of his surprisingly defined forearms. He can't be older than me by a year, if he's even older at all. His jaw and nose are sharp and there's a small scar on his cheek that appears thicker every time he frowns.

The cigarette has found its way back into his mouth and the lighter is in his hand. "All right," he says after a few minutes. "All right. So firstly, you need to know that I don't just normally jump through naked girl's mirrors and I most certainly do not stick around long enough afterward to cook them breakfast."

I nod my head to show I'm still listening. My phone is still in my hand like a weapon. I'm not afraid to call 911 again if I don't like what he tells me. I'm going to be in serious enough trouble as it is if my parents ever find out about any of this. Honestly I still can't believe I let him back in my apartment to begin with. I think I really am losing my mind. "Second, what you saw this morning is not a trick, it definitely isn't your imagination, and you aren't going crazy. What you saw was very real. I did come through your mirror."

"How?" I ask incredulous. "And what about the other reflections I saw today? Was that your doing?"

"No," he says. "That wasn't me, I swear. In fact. I honestly can't tell you exactly who or what it is. I'm afraid I'm in the dark as much as you are there. Actually, that's the reason I so unceremoniously barged into your bathroom this morning. I was...being chased."

"Chased?" I asked, still very confused.

"I can't really explain that either," he says honestly.

"Ok, so what can you tell me?" I demand.

"Just this," he says and holds my gaze. "I can travel through mirrors...more accurately I can travel through reflections."

"How?" I demand. "That's impossible."

"Not impossible, just unthinkable," Daniel pauses and fishes the pocket watch out of his vest pocket. It's attached to him through one of the spaces of his button holes, but he walks over to me, close enough so that he can place the watch in my hand.

I can't deny that it's a beautiful watch. It's silver and polished and the shell is engraved with intricate designs and runes encircle the outer edge. I hold it in my cupped hands, almost afraid to touch it. Daniel reaches down and pops it open for me and I stare at the face of the watch as the second hand moves around the numbers. I note that the watch is set six hours ahead.

But the strangest thing about the watch is the small mirror on the inside of the cover. It reminds me of something I'd see being pulled from a woman's purse. It's blackened with age along the rim and a there are chips in the reflection, but it's a mirror just the same.

"So what the deal with it?" I ask looking at him.

"This watch has been passed down through my family from father to son for generations," Daniel says and takes the watch and places it back in his pocket. "It's what gives me my ability to do what I do."

"OK, say I believe a word you're saying. How does it work?" I ask.

"Like I said, I'm not sure. There's a story, a myth and legend that is passed when the watch is passed to its new bearer. I'm not much of a storyteller though, my grandfather is the one who's good with words." Daniel steps away from me and puts the cigarette back in his mouth, the lighter says in his pocket this time.

"You really expect me to believe that you can travel through mirrors?"

"Reflections," he corrects me absently. "And yes, how else would you explain what happened this morning?"

"I don't know!" I yell suddenly, feeling overwhelmed. "Like I said, maybe you drugged me or—" I hesitate, I know I don't believe he drugged me, but the other option is impossible. I don't do well impossible. To think today started with such promise.

"Do you like pizza?" Daniel asks.

"What?" I look up at him.

"Pizza. Large round thing with lots of carbs, meats, and cheeses. You American's make the best pizza and I'm hungry," he makes a circle in the air while he talks. "Would you mind if I ordered one? I'll pay of course, you look like you could eat something. I assume you didn't eat the breakfast I made?"

"Of course I didn't, it could have been—"

"—drugged?" he smiles and I frown. "That's a recurring theme with you it seems, do you have a phobia of drugs or did something happen in your past?" I shoot him a glare. "So yes or no for pizza?"

I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes. "Sure," I sigh. "Why the heck not?"

Daniel fishes a sleek cell phone from his pocket and after a few seconds he finds what he's looking for and holds the phone to his ear. "Yes, hello," he says. "I'd like to order a large pizza," he pauses. "Extra cheese, pepperoni, sausage, bacon, pastrami," he pauses and looks at me. "You eat meat right?"

I nod and fall back on my bed to stare at my ceiling while Daniel orders pizza. "Can I get a liter of Coke with that? Brilliant." There's a pause. "Yes, I'm actually British." He laughs. "Stop, I think that's the kindest thing I've been told all week...well you have a lovely voice yourself." I raise an eyebrow and prop myself up on my elbows while Daniel flirts with the person on the other line. He finally finishes by reading off his credit card number and hangs up.

"Everyone gives America such a hard time," he says and sits down in one of the kitchen chairs. "But you do have some delicious junk food."

"That's a fair assessment," I agree.

He smiles at me. "So do you have any questions?"

"A couple hundred, but most of them are centered on myself and are shouting 'why the hell is a British guy in your apartment? and why the hell did you let him into your apartment to begin with?'"

Daniel laughs and I can't help but smile slightly. "So, can you tell me about what you saw today?" he asks. I shiver just thinking about it.

"I'm not really sure exactly," I say honestly. "It was strange."

"Can you try to explain?" he asks gently. There's something about Daniel, the way he's looking at me and how he talks that makes me trust him and it's not just his accent or his tailored suit. I explain the shadow in the mirror at work and then the reflection of the man at the bus stop.

"You said you were being chased, right?" I ask him. "Could this be something similar?"

Daniel is staring the carpet under his feet. His chin and half of his mouth is hidden by his hand, I've seen the same look on my father's face. He's thinking hard about something and while he's in his daze the doorbell rings for the pizza. I check the peephole and then open the door. I sign for Daniel and thank the delivery guy and shut the door and make sure it's locked again.

"Pizza is here," I announce. Daniel still doesn't move. I grab a plate and glass from the cupboard then go sit on the end of my bed and eat. I find myself slightly fascinated by Daniel's zombie like trance. He hardly blinks and his eyes never leave the same spot of the carpet. I'm nibbling on the end of my third slice when he finally blinks and sits up straighter.

"Sorry, did you say something?" he asks and then sees the pizza I my hand.

"The pizza came?" he asks surprised.

"I signed for you, I hope that's OK," I tell him.

"Oh, yes of course," he nods and pulls a slice from the box without a plate.

"You aren't worried it will get on your suit?" I ask surprised and he shrugs.

"Not really. I can have it cleaned," he tells me.

"It's a very nice suit," I tell him.

"Thank you," he smiles. "It's Italian."

"Expensive?" I ask.

"Yes, it was a gift from my father," he finishes his slice and stands. "Well Marley, it was an absolute pleasure meeting you, but I think I need to be going. I wasn't lying before when I said I needed to use your mirror. Considering today's events I need to be getting home."
I get off my bed quickly and follow him to the bathroom. I lean on the doorframe since there's not really adequate room for two people. Daniel stares at the mirror a moment then looks over at me. "You won't freak out right?"

"Probably," I nod.

He smiles. "I think we'll be seeing each other again soon, Marley. I just have that feeling."

"You aren't going to come through my mirror again, are you?" I ask, feeling pale.

"No," he smiles. "I assure you next time our meeting will be more formal." He winks at me and I roll my eyes. He presses his hand flat against my mirror. To my surprise and slight horror, the mirror moves. The surface shimmers and then Daniel's hand disappears and then his entire body. I gasp and move in front of the mirror but all I see is my reflection. I tap the surface. It's solid and nothing moves on the other side.

"That was real," I say to my reflection. "You just saw a boy disappear through your mirror. You aren't imagining this." I touch the mirror again, but it remains solid.

When I lie down to sleep later I stare at the dark ceiling. My mind reels through the day and everything that happened. It doesn't feel real, and yet I know it was. In just one day my entire life changed and I'm not sure how I feel about it.