I’m through my internal vitriolic litany in a minute or so; lacking any further source of release, I do it again, in German and Icelandic for good measure. Mom would probably have dragged me out into the street if she was able to hear just how filthy I got in our native tongue, which makes me doubly glad she didn’t and she isn’t telepathic.
God, now I’m thinking in geek, like Kyle. That girl is getting under my skin.
Still, I think the whole thing with Ray and Reynolds has me more spooked than Kyle’s infiltration. The longer I wait in line, the stronger the feeling of wrongness becomes, almost as if it’s like the feeling the bimbo gets in the horror movies when the killer’s sneaking up behind her. I need to calm down and think over this rationally. I check over the list of facts as the line shuffles slowly forward.
First, time is messed up. Two timelines are converging, I think, and there’s something that will decide which one goes forward.
Secondly, I know that the right timeline is one where, in the past, Katie’s husband Ray died after he couldn’t get a blood transfusion after a car accident. This breaks my heart, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen Katie so happy… even if Ray gives me the absolute generics.