Rephraim pov

I watched as she jumped quickly from tile to tile staring at her feet with a look of concentration and pleasure. She looked silly and young as her one of her feet crossed over to tap the tile on the opposite side of the other one. And she was laughing that laugh that makes me want to smile. I didn't. Instead I looked at her with and incredulous look and asked

"What are you doing?" She didn't pause but she did look up at me. And her smile grew.

"Playing," she said, then pointing at the tile floor at my feet "you can't touch the cracks and you can't land on a tile for more than a second"

"I have no need to play, my father. . ." I started

"Is all the way in Italy, come play with me, Rephraim, or are you just scared I'll win?"

"I donot fear such childish things." I said, but I found myself moving my feet in the same manner in which hers were. Her only response was to laugh again. I listened to that laugh as it wrapped around me. Like music to this strange dance/game she had made up.

She danced closer to me and I kept my eyes trained downward as my feet moved taping tiles in a discombobulated motion. How strange that moving at a jagged rhythm on my tip tows would make me feel almost content.

Stevie Rae was very close to me now. Still moving in her dancing way. Then she leaned toward me and I felt the soft pressure of her lips on the skin of my neck. I stopped. Everything stopped, my feet, my heart, my breath, my thoughts . . . what just happened? Why did she do that? My eyes were on her now. And she smiled.

"You stopped, I win." She said then she stopped to and continued to hold my gaze.

"You win" I conformed.