The Chronicles of James Pete Smith and Alysia Urie-Ross

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hello?" the familiar voice answered.

"Daddy...erm. You might wanna come pick me up...and I have a friend with me and...it's hard to explain. Please just come?"

An exasperated sigh. "Okay, fine, Ally. You better have a good explanation for this."

Click.

Jimmy's face was showing confusion, interest, and a tiny bit of fear. "Hard to explain? What's so hard to explain?"

I gave him that look that scared him so much and he shut up.

I couldn't answer his questions. Not right now. But it seemed I'd have to simply show him, instead. And soon.

I'm not some crazy oracle or prophet or something. Nothing like Gaga. She's got control over her gift. 'Gift.'
But I would be lying if I said I was perfectly normal in the head. I have dreams. The occasional vision. The deja-vu whenever shit goes down. But you already know too much as it is. Don't you always?

It was a good 35 minutes before daddy finally got there. He looked very organized, as usual, and when he saw who I had with me, he looked quite curious. And then he looked a little startled. But I didn't expect him to smile and wave overenthusiastically at a kid with glowing eyes.

I quickly plopped down in the front seat, Jimmy in the back. Obviously.

"Who is he?"

"Jimmy. A friend of mine."

Jimmy waved. "Hi, Mr. Urie."

"Call me Brendon." he smiled faintly, looking at him. Then his expression changed.

"Ally...is that..."

I gritted my teeth and shushed him. He looked at Jimmy for another moment before starting the car and speeding off onto the perfectly paved road that would eventually lead to my house.

It was like Daddy and Jimmy were keeping really close eyes on each other.

We finally drove into the pebbly driveway of the white house. It was pretty big, and the matte-glass front doors made the sun reflect into my eyes. We walked quickly into it, bringing dad's attention. He looked strangely at us, as if we were aliens, and his eyes widened when he spotted Jimmy. I wasn't sure if it was from recognition or...well...his eyes.

"Ally, who is this?"

"My friend, Jimmy."

"And why are his eyes...?"
Both me and daddy gave him a look and he sighed, walking over to us. He kept his eyes on Jimmy before he finally froze.

"Wait...is that...?"

I gave him another look and turned to Jimmy, smiling a bit nervously. "Um, can you stay here while I talk to my dads?"

A nod, and then I went in the direction of the kitchen, my dads following me.

"Okay," dad started irritably. "That's fucking Jimmy Wentz."

Daddy nodded, and looked at me. "Why is it so important that we don't say anything?"

"Because he can't know!"

"He doesn't know?" Dad's eyebrow shot up.

"No.”

Daddy looked at me impatiently. "We thought he was dead. What the fuck is going on?"
"I guess I can't tell you two much, either." I sighed, getting up. They were both giving me an extremely confused look before following me. Jimmy was sitting on the couch in our extremely white--when I say extremely, I mean extremely--living room, staring out into space. He seemed deeply lost in thought. His eyes weren't as bright as before, though.

My dads were being quite cautious with him, smiling nervously and not speaking. But Dad looked like he was grimacing happily. When they did speak, they kept it simple, like just greetings, small talk, not even real conversation.
After they left to the kitchen to "cook" (more like make out on the counters), Jimmy looked at me, and something was missing in his eyes although they were glowing.

"Jimmy?"
Silence.
"Jimmy...?"
Longer silence.
"Jimmy, are you okay."

"I'm a freak." Not the answer I was wanting.

"No, not really."

"Yeah, I am. Did you see the way they were acting? They think I'm a freak. Everyone thinks I'm a freak. Ally, do you think I'm a freak?"

I frowned and shook my head, hugging him tighter. "I'm more of a freak, honestly." a small grin formed on my face. "I'm pretty proud of being so freaky, too. If you're the freak you think you are, you should be proud, too."
Silence. Maybe I was being too cheesy.
"You're not a freak." I repeated, letting go of him but still watching him. "Really."

And then I heard dad's phone. Dialing.

Fuck.

"Pete? Yeah...I think-"

"No!"

I ran into the kitchen and took the phone out of his hand, earning me a really dirty look, and I hung it up, smiling at him. I went back in the living room and smiled at Jimmy, who still looked gloomy. I wanted to tell him who he was, I wanted to tell him that he wasn't really a freak. Just different. But I couldn't, not yet.

He was giving me a look. One that showed just how miserable yet curious he was. I sat and hugged him again.

"Ally, what happened?"

"Nothing."

"What's going on?"

"I promise you'll find out eventually."