You wake up with Cassie curled up in a ball, pressed against you, her body warm against yours. She's started sleeping in your bed ever since she showed you her drawings--the drawings, the ones where her and Kira and you are all--well, you know. And unable to resist Cassie anything, you've found yourself unable to kick her out of your bed.
Which should be more disturbing than it is, given the content of those drawings. You can't quite doubt the veracity of Cassie's visions: you know that the future is mutable, not fixed, but if Cassie says this is the path the two of you are on right now, then they are, even if you can't understand how that can possibly be true, don't want to consider what that says about what you are and aren't capable of.
Instead, you slip out of bed as carefully as you can to keep from waking Cassie; she stirs, but stays asleep. You pull on a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt and go out for a run, hoping to quiet your mind, to think about something--anything--other than the fact that a fourteen-year-old precognitive has, matter-of-factly, told you (well, shown you) you're predestined to fuck her, that you can't even straighten out how you feel about that fact.
You stop at the bakery on your way back, pick up a dozen bagels for breakfast. Cassie's still asleep when you get back to the hotel room; you let her sleep and slip into the bathroom for a shower.
You masturbate in the shower, doing your best to think of Kira and not Cassie, of Kira's full breasts, hips, ass, and not of Cassie's slender body.
She's awake when you exit the bathroom dressed in your outfit for the day. She's sitting at the hotel room desk, eating a cinnamon raisin bagel smothered in strawberry cream cheese, still dressed in the t-shirt and panties she slept in. "My turn to use the bathroom," she says immediately and, right in front of you, strips out of her clothes, walks naked into the bathroom and, leaving the bathroom door open, steps into the shower.
You've never been prudish about seeing each other in your underwear--you can't be, on the run--but you've always drawn the line there. The nudity is new, like Cassie's sleeping in your bed, and like everything else, you're not sure what to do about it.
You try hard not to think about the fact that, mere minutes after coming in the shower, you're hard again, and instead spread some cream cheese on a bagel.
Ten minutes later you hear the water of the shower turn off and Cassie, still naked (obviously), leans out of the shower, grabs a towel. She wraps it around herself and walks back into the room, picks up the uneaten half of her bagel and takes a bite.
She finishes her breakfast in uncharacteristic silence. "What's up?" you finally ask, knowing her well enough to know that something's off.
Cassie frowns, then (still just wearing the towel) gets up, walks over to her purse, pulls out her sketchbook and pens. She begins to draw, the rough outline of a woman in a blue dress, the caption above her, KIRA. "Today's the day."
She sounds significantly less excited than you would have expected.
You watch her--well, you see her while trying hard not to watch her--get dressed, pulling on a clean bra and panties and then a t-shirt, skirt, pair of kneesocks, boots, all in shades of grunge-glam black, just like every other outfit she wears, except you know her well enough to know it is her favorite t-shirt, her favorite skirt. She's dressing up for the occasion, in her own way.
The two of you walk from the hotel towards the boardwalk together, but she stops about a block away. "She'll be alone," she tells you. "She'll be wearing blue, remember. Well, indigo, really. A sort of denim minidress thing. She looks really hot in it."
The bisexuality is another thing that's new. She never let on any indication of being a sexual being before, or at least then you were able to successfully refrain from noticing.
She pulls herself up onto the tips of her toes to kiss you. Like, really kiss you. You don't kiss her back, not exactly, but neither do you stop her or pull away. Eventually, she breaks the kiss. "Go," she says, and you obey.