Maybe I shouldn't have screwed with his head like that back in the truck, he definitely didn't react how I thought he would. In fact, he's nothing at all like I thought he'd be. Maybe it's the old jeans and button-down 'stead of the fancy suit, or maybe it's just 'cause he's not one of them anymore. Not in my head anyway.
He's different.
And right now, he's majorly freaked.
Okay, so time travel's new. If that's what this is – and since the good ol' boys at the counter all seem damn sure it's 1947 I'm gonna have to go with a yes on that one. But I've seen weirder shit than this, and hell, I'd be more than shocked if he hasn't.
I put my hand on his arm to steady him, just in case he decides to bolt or something, and out of the corner of my eye I see a kid watching from behind the counter. He doesn't look right, he doesn't look like he belongs.
