Tracy laughed. He knew he liked her for a reason. She was just so<span style="font-style: italic">similar</span>in almost every aspect, like she was.. He stopped, his smile lingering though his eyebrows knitted in confusion. It was like she was reading his mind. Shaking that absurd idea out of his mind, Tracy settled himself into the passenger seat, reclining into the cushion and reflecting on the past few minutes. It<span style="font-style: italic">had</span>been really coincidental. Des' name, then pretty much reiterating his thoughts. It was weird, but not possible, right?<br/><br/>Throwing all thought behind him, Tracy's head lulled to the side, grinning at her. "I know right? Christ, they're fucking candles." He said that, though here they were, driving away with an entire case of them. "I don't know which one he is, but when school starts up again I'm going to be looking for him. Me and that kid are going to be best friends so he doesn't shoot me when the time comes."<br/><br/>The ride home was awkwardly silent, mostly on Tracy's part. Even as he was getting out of the car and carrying the case of candles through the door, he couldn't ignore the hairs that stood up on the back of his neck. Go figure he'd be the one to be more freaked out about his girlfriend being a guest on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire than he would about light bulbs literally exploding in front of him. He discarded the case of candles on the living room table, plopping down and sinking into the couch.<br/><br/>"Hey, Cynthia?" he asked after a fashion, sinking inexplicably more into the cushions. He still couldn't shake it. "You sure you didn't know that guy? From the shop?" Tracy was a maths guy, and to a maths guy everything made sense, or it was at least supposed to. So there had to be some sort of logical explanation as to how she knew his name. That wasn't a lucky guess, Tracy was damn near sure of it. "Maybe you<span style="font-style: italic">did</span>go to school together or something?"