Perfect for You (Short Story) (Fire and Icing) by Jessie Evans

“I have been since I was a kid. Usually if I get a bad feeling, it isn’t long before I know the reason for it. Or at least have a hunch, you know?”
    Brandon slowly shook his head. “Um…”
    “But today I searched for a reason and I couldn’t find anything,” Lucy pressed on, needing to talk to someone before the bad feeling ate away her stomach lining. “I’ve been trying so hard to shut off that part of myself, but maybe…” She twined her fingers together on top of the counter. “Maybe I tried too hard, and now…I’m broken.”
    Brandon let out a long, measured breath. “You confuse me sometimes, Lucy.”
    Lucy sighed. “Thanks.”
    “But I like you,” Brandon said with a smile. “And I know what it’s like to get down in the dumps, so…if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m right across the street.”
    Lucy cocked her head, studying Brandon, reading the genuine concern in his pale eyes. “You lost someone?” she asked. “To depression?”
    Brandon’s eyes opened a little wider. “Yeah…I did. The year before high school.”
    “I didn’t read your mind,” Lucy said, rushing to reassure him. “That wasn’t being psychic, just perceptive. I’m sorry for your loss, whoever it was.”
    Brandon nodded, the muscle in his jaw leaping. “Thanks.”
    “But I’m not depressed, don’t worry,” Lucy said, feeling for the guy, and hoping she could put his mind at ease. “And I’m not crazy, either. There are just more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
    Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “Shakespeare?”
    “Yeah,” Lucy said, surprised. “Hamlet.”
    “We studied that in high school,” Brandon said. “Wasn’t really my thing.”
    “Mine either,” Lucy said. “I just like the quote. My Gram cross-stitched it on a pillow for me when I was little. She always told me that God made us this way and God doesn’t make mistakes. Some people say being psychic goes against the church, but I’ve only ever used what I can do to help people.” Lucy paused, screwing up her nose before she confessed, “Except that one time I used it to bet on a horse so I could pay my electric bill, but I felt guilty about it after.”
    Brandon shot her a bemused smile. “Then why were you trying to turn it off? If you use it to help people?”
    Lucy swallowed. “I needed a break. Just for a little while. But I didn’t want it to go away forever.”
    Brandon shrugged. “Well…maybe it’s like working out. Maybe you need some time to get back in top condition. If I quit lifting for a week, I can’t jump right back in where I left off, you know.”
    “Maybe…” Lucy nodded, mildly cheered. “That’s a thought.”
    “I have those sometimes,” Brandon said, making Lucy chuckle when she realized he’d made a joke.
    She looked up at him, seeing him through a different lens. “Thanks, Brandon. It was really nice talking to you this morning.”
    “You too,” he said, eyes dropping to the pink box and bread on the counter between them before his gaze returned to Lucy. “So…think you might want to talk again some time? Maybe over pizza or something?”
    Lucy stared at him for a long moment before the meaning of his words penetrated. It had been so long since she’d been asked out on a date, she’d almost forgotten the warning signs.
    “Oh,” she said, blinking fast, not sure what else to say. “Um…I…I don’t know, Brandon. I think I’m a lot older than you are.”
    Brandon’s brows drew together. “Doubt it. I’m twenty-one.”
    “I’m twenty-seven,” Lucy said, accustomed to people thinking she was younger than she actually was. It was a hazard of being five-two, on the scrawny side, and preferring to wear one’s hair in pigtails.
    Brandon shrugged. “That’s only six years. Doesn’t seem like such a big deal.”
    “But you think I’m crazy,” Lucy said.
    “No, I don’t,” Brandon said, smiling. “You’re different. But in a good