ELLA

My head is spinning. This man is standing in front of me, and while I can see that he is real, the things he's saying don't make a damn bit of sense. Wishes, gods, quests? I saw him appear out of nowhere in that light that burst from the locket...but that didn't make it any easier to believe. And if I'm being honest, I don't really want an explanation. My life is complicated enough without adding the problems of a god to it.

Before he can tell me anything else, I say, "Well, Calix, I hate to hear about your potential failed quest, and it was lovely to meet you, but I'm afraid it's time for me to go home and get some sleep...or maybe wake up from this crazy-ass dream I've been having," I say with a strained chuckle as I turn away from him again, determined this time to keep walking.

But Calix matches my pace while tugging on his hair. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and his lips twitch on one side. "A good night's rest will do you some good. Perhaps with a fresh outlook on things, you will come to realize there is something I can do for you."

I speed up just enough to get him off my heels and without looking at him, I say, "All right, Calix?"

"Yes?" I don't miss the sound of hope in his voice, but I squash it before he has a chance to revel in it.

I toss him a glance over my shoulder. "You're not following me home, are you?"

"I—yes."

I close my eyes and exhale, trying to remain calm. "You do realize that's borderline stalker, right?"

He catches up and steps in front of me, walking backward, his perfectly arched thick brows furrowed. "I am not familiar with the term stalker."

"Illegally harassing me. You cannot follow me home; I've not invited you to come with me." He stops and I nearly run into him, sidestepping in an attempt to get around him.

"Oh." His lavender eyes dart from the sidewalk to the trees to the night sky. "I suppose I can sleep outside."

"Isn't your home in the locket? Can't you return there to your comfy genie/god lair?"

He rubs the back of his neck. "No. It is not a home. It is...nothing...lonely."

My stomach flips; I know what it is to be lonely, but that doesn't change the fact that when you break it down, this is a complete stranger—not just a stranger, but a stranger who is claiming to be a god who can give me anything I want. I can't let my soft heart get sucked in.

"I hate that for you, Calix, I really do. I'm not a monster, but you have to understand—this is the 21st century. It would be idiotic for me to let some random guy in my home, no matter how nice he seems." I pick up my stride, following the empty sidewalks through Duke University's campus. It doesn't go without noticing that Calix looks like he belongs with the structures we pass. Just like him, they reflect the architecture popular centuries ago.

"The 21st century," he whispers.

"Yes. You are a little behind the times." I scan him up and down. Poor guy has no idea what he's in for—cell phones, cars, electricity.

Calix falls silent as we continue to walk. The chapel must have felt somewhat familiar to him, but as we move along the main street, I know the things he sees must be shocking. That is if his godly people didn't already invent all the things humans have. Maybe we are the ones who are behind with our advancements.

"What are these contraptions?" he asks, stopping beside a car and running his hand over it.

So much for gods being more advanced.

I roll my eyes and put my hand on his shoulder, pushing him away from the vehicle. "Okay, lesson one: don't touch things that don't belong to you, especially big, expensive things, unless you want to end up fighting it out in the street with the owner." I glance at him and sigh. "It's a car." He stares at me blankly. "You know...a motor vehicle?" Nothing. "A mode of transportation."

"Oh! Like a horse and buggy."

I snort; the mixture of his posh English accent and outdated comparison is charming. "Yes. Same idea...much more efficient."

"Do you have one?" he asks with a sly grin.

"Yes. And no, I'm not going to ask you for a nicer one."

Calix's shoulders slump and he pushes his hands into his pockets.

We reach my small two-bedroom turn-of-the-century home. The outside is well-kempt, but it has seen better days. The first step up the front porch creaks under my weight before I turn back to Calix.

"Candles burn so brightly now." His eyes are wide as he takes in the homes with their lights still on.

"I don't suppose you've heard of this thing called the light bulb, huh?"

He shakes his head causing a curl to sway against his forehead. He is tall, well-built with a chiseled jawline, yet there is such an innocence to him. The smile that pulls at my lips is uncontrollable. The simple things I take for granted every day are unfathomable to him.

"Thank you for walking me home, Calix." The stern tone I've carried with him has vanished, replaced by sincerity.

He shifts side to side, his hands still in his pockets. "You are welcome." He stops moving and he takes a deep breath. "May I ask your name?"

I bite my bottom lip and appraise him, wondering if I should share something so personal with him. What the hell, he already knows where I live. It doesn't get a whole lot more personal than that. "Eleanor. But most people call me Ella."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ella." He holds out his hand and I grasp it. His skin is so soft that I can't stop myself from running my thumb over the back of his hand while we shake.

I hold his gaze for just a second too long and pull my hand back, awkwardly running it through my hair, feeling the curls slip from the bun on top of my head. "It was nice to meet you, too, Calix. I really hope you find what you're looking for."

And with that, I turn the knob and slip inside. After securing the lock on the door, I pad quietly across the wood floor toward my bedroom. I flip off the hallway light and slip into my room. Everything is just as I left it: every stack of paper on my desk organized neatly and my shoes lined up inside my tiny closet.  I collapse onto my bed and sink into the fluffy grey and white comforter face first.

As I'm falling asleep, I feel guilty that I couldn't do more to help him. I wish I could find it in me to wish for even one thing. But I can't help the way I feel, and l likely will never see him again, so I just have to do what I've done with so many other things in this life—push it out of my mind.

But as I step out of the house the next morning, I realize that's going to be next to impossible.

Calix is sitting on my front porch, chin resting in his hand, snoozing in the early morning sun.

Well, shit.