SIMON
Christopher's reservations were not unreasonable as the suburbs are a somewhat challenging hunting ground. The upper middle class tends to overreact to frequent disappearances, especially if there were signs of struggle. Patience is key to sustaining the mortal façade, as is social integration. Given enough time, there are enough spontaneous runaways, rebellious youths, and troubled households with custody disputes to sustain a vampire's thirst for the kill. With that said, the thirst is never gone for long and intermittent feedings can be problematic if you are not comfortable hunting in the daytime. A lone stranger would draw a great deal of attention in a community like this one but fortunately, high school seniors do not.
I had been waiting for the boy, but I smiled when I found the barista from last week scurrying about downtown. A few brown tendrils fell about her pale face as she walked between two buildings, fast approaching an employee parking lot that was located behind the store front. The lot was almost full, but partially enclosed by overcast pines so street access was minimal and thankfully, the lunch shift had ended a few hours ago. Her pace quickened as she approached her vehicle, her thoughts ravenous with renewed anger seeping through her. *They had a fight.* And from what I gathered from her vengeful stream of consciousness, her emotional wounds were still seeping as the fight was just a few moments ago.
I remained a few paces behind her until she stopped just before her car to riffle in her purse for her keys. Carefully cradling her elbow, I gently breath her in as I swiftly draped my other arm around her waist to pull her into me. She immediately jumped but her voice caught in her long throat as soon as she turned to face me, immediately caught in my gaze. I held her in trance as we slowly closed the remaining distance, though I released her elbow so she could turn to face me once we reached the driver's side of her vehicle. Standing in a lover's embrace, I took a moment to feel the warmth of her skin against me as she wrapped her arms around my neck and gradually pulled me towards her lips.
*No, my sweet. That's not what I want from you.*
With one hand on the flat of her back, I use the other to grab the base of her neck and gently tip her head to one side. She leaned into my embrace, and I kept time with the seductive rhythm of her quickening heart as I punctured the skin just above her collarbone. She let out a small gasp, having momentarily been released from one trance only to be enveloped by another. Her body stiffened, though she remained firmly within my arms, seeming to flinch as I felt a rush of sweet panic sweep through her. It quickly fades when a moan escapes her lips, and her heartbeat settles into a hypnotic beat that is difficult to resist. Her blood flowed into me as her heart drummed, slowly quieting while my skin grew warm. In the beginning, the thirst seems to build to a ravenous roar when you feed. An insatiable need to fill the eternal void. If I succumb to it and quench my thirst, I will kill her.
*The great irony of immortality.* To prolong life, life must be taken.
Reluctantly, I stay in tune with her beating heart and gently pull back from her neck when she inevitably loses consciousness. Quickly, I use my fangs to stagger the wounds on her collarbone and disguise the nature of our exchange. I gingerly lick the small drop of blood threatening to trail down her chest, loving the weight of her in my arms though I will be tempted to do more than simply sate my thirst if I remain with her much longer. Carefully, I open the door and fold her into the seat so that her forehead rests against the steering wheel. *Just rest a moment.* She would not remember getting into her car, but her instinct will be to fill in the gaps in her memory with whatever is most convenient. Absentmindedness can cover a multitude of sins, even those that are not your own. I left her keys with the purse on her lap before turning to leave.
*She will come round soon enough.*
Once back on the main street, I casually blend in with the other Saturday afternoon window shoppers in downtown Middlebrook. There is a wash of peace that momentarily pacifies the insatiable thirst for blood as her own courses through me. *At least, for the moment.* In time, my need to feed would build again, and the hunt would resume. My relief is short-lived though, as a vision of Angela suddenly darts into the crowd just ahead of me. Oddly enough, I froze.
*Is this what it is like to panic?*
----------~----------~----------
ANGELA
"I really hate that you won't even consider--" Vic starts saying as we walk out of our favorite clothing store though she was caught off guard when I momentarily froze just outside the door to survey the crowd. *I could have sworn I just saw Simon.* I release my furrowed brow when Vic makes a dramatic gesture to get my attention. "Angie?"
"Sorry, I thought I saw someone." I said, adjusting my satchel's shoulder strap. Interestingly enough, it would not be the first time that Simon caught me off guard while Vic and I were discussing him. He does seem to have an uncanny ability to find me when I least expect him. "And the answer is still 'no.'" I add as we make our way towards the next boutique on this block that is within our measly price range.
Simon and I had one or two run-ins at lunch earlier this week that were amicable enough that Vic started elbowing me whenever she saw him in the halls at school. I refused to admit it to her, but the moment he agreed to leave me alone was the exact moment I began to realize I did not want him to. Trouble is, I had already made my position clear and after replaying our last few exchanges in my mind, I decided I might have to accept that I made a mistake rather than risk sending him mixed messages. Besides, my week had an unexpected twist at the end, and it just seemed saner to let the residual dust of Dierfield-mania settle where it lay. Of course, *everyone else* had a different opinion on the matter.
"Oh, my God." Vic said bluntly, smacking me in the shoulder with her small plastic bag of accessories. Despite having momentarily disrupted the flow of traffic surrounding us, she took a moment to look at me, dumbfounded by my decision. "You are officially the dumbest smart person east of the Mississippi." She continued, briskly turning to head into another clothing store.
"How I wish y'all would loosen up on the dramatics." I sighed, following her into the side aisle so we could head back towards the sales racks. "It's not *that* big of a deal." I add, slightly amused by the flabbergasted expression on Vic's face as she makes a show of moving clothing items on a random rack.
"For once, a guy in Middlebrook actually likes you." Vic muttered, a disimpassioned plea on her face while she continues to move between the racks. "That's a small miracle in and of itself."
"Oh, I see. So, I'm stuck with him?" I ask, loving that she rolled her eyes at me before finally perching on a rack of graphic long-sleeve shirts from earlier this season.
"Stuck? How I wish I had these issues!" Vic muttered, siphoning through the clothing rack while I pretend to be interested in the one that I was looking through. "That boy is *fine.* And despite the multitude of girls throwing themselves at him, he continues to be single."
"I love how he can be picky about who he dates but I somehow have to settle for the first guy who shows an interest."
"So, you admit that he's interested in you." Vic asks and I gently nudge her shoulder as we both burst out laughing. Without meaning to, I leaned back against the rack to release the tension building in my neck. I was getting tired of having this argument. "You really need to lighten up about this."
"It's not that simple." I say quietly, reluctantly looking up at her through the hangers. "For one, I feel like a hypocrite."
"Get over it." Vic laughed and I smiled in spite of the conflicting emotions. When I did not immediately respond, Vic stopped and got quiet before continuing. "Alright, I'm being a bit of a bitch. So, you have to eat some crow?"
"*Some* crow?" I said, raising an eyebrow.
"Ok, so you'll have to eat a *whole* crow. I guarantee you; this is not the last time you are going to fuck up your love life, Angie." Vic adds and I instantly caught the hint of remorse as her voice trailed off.
"Rob was not a fuck up. He was just an asshole." I said definitively, recalling the awful ordeal that had plagued most of our freshman year. Rob and Vic had been lab partners through most of middle school, a relationship that was socially troublesome but academically rewarding from Rob's perspective. That summer, he decided to take that relationship to the next level on the condition that their twist would remain a secret. Whether you call it insecurity or wishful thinking, Vic consented even though Rob's reputation as a player was well on its way.
"Same difference." Vic added, though we both knew she still held him on a pedestal despite all that had happened. She was at my house when she got the now infamous text that brought the whole affair to light. 'This isn't working. No hard feelings k.' Vic burst into tears, throwing the phone at me as she wailed into my mattress. It took hours to pry the whole story out of her, and of course, our main concern at the time was what would happen when school started up the following week. Rob's silence about their affair was pretty much his only saving grace and from there onward, he became something of a rotting unicorn for Vic. "Besides, you guys are right. His wandering dick will eventually get him into trouble." Vic smiled broadly, and I could not help but laugh.
"Syphilis is on the rise." I mutter, aimlessly shifting through the clothing rack once more though I was not really interested in anything I was looking at.
"Luckily for Maggie, he turned her down. Poor little shit will just have to learn how to be alone." Vic added, suddenly bushy tailed and bright. Rob may have been the impetus behind the events of that year, but the truth is it was Maggie who weaponized the ordeal. She had been ruthless, taking full advantage of the fact that no one knew of what had happened and indeed, questions remain as to how Maggie even learned the truth. Regardless, Maggie's pursuit of Vic was relentless, but Rob's continued denials of their sexual escapades helped keep things quiet and ultimately, Steve came around to take Maggie off the market. By the end of the school year, the whole mess had been put to rest and we all went on with our lives. "So did you have a point two, or are you done making excuses?" Her desire to change the subject was obvious, but it was hard to shake my own unsettled feelings of self-doubt as I considered what I wanted to do.
"Well, that's just it. I'm comfortable being alone." I confessed, circling the issue that has been bothering me since Simon walked out from the comforts of my willow tree.
"Do you *want* to be alone?" Vic asked, her voice suddenly coy as she trailed off and peeked at me from between the racks. I threw my head back slightly to smile but I could not bear to answer her, and she knew why without prodding. *No, I don't.* "Just promise me you'll reconsider the possibility."
"I still think you and Lawry are assuming a great deal about Simon and me--" I began to say before she interjected.
"Alva agrees with us, by the way."
"Goddamn it, Vic!" I say, casually motioning to the air like I was re-enacting a Shakespearean soliloquy. I was only partially upset by the notion that my friends were gossiping about me. I was more frustrated by my own insecurities, which were fueled by an inherent lack of personal experience and a lifetime of underwhelming verbal exchanges with the opposite sex. "What am I going to do, walk up to the son-of-a-bitch and say, 'hey just kidding. What are you doing next Friday?'"
"I'd vary the wording a bit, but basically--"
"And what happens when he turns me down for being a psychotic lunatic?" I ask, finally confessing the reason *why* I was reluctant to speak to him again. For better or worse, Simon is not an idiot and if anyone were going to call me out on my hypocrisy, it would be him.
"We buy you the biggest frozen yogurt cup they have at the parlor across the street." Vic said, motioning towards the front of the store while she spoke. I chuckled, breaking the tension though my nerves were still on edge.
"As many toppings as I want?" I ask shyly. Vic smirks while she slowly nods her head. *I'm being ridiculous.* I shrug off the residual feelings of angst with a mildly dramatic display that broadens the smile on Vic's face once more. "I'll think about it." I add finally, slamming a hanger back on the rack as I shift through my emotional rolodex. We both start laughing and the next thing you know an old lady in the next aisle clears her throat to try and make the point that we were being too loud.
"Oh, that sounds bad." Vic says in the woman's direction.
"Yeah, you should get that checked out." I add, loving the priceless look of disbelief on her face. "Want a cough drop?" I ask as nicely as I possibly can but all she does is grunt and storm off to another section. I smile, knowing full well that she would inevitably lodge a complaint with the store manager if we continued.
"They are so going to throw us out of here." Vic laughs and I nod my head in agreement as our laughter trails off. Maybe we are a bit much for a bright Saturday afternoon in sheltered suburbia.
"Well, I don't see anything good here. Do you?" I ask half-heartedly. This was never my favorite store anyways, so I am not immediately upset by the prospect that we could not find anything.
"Nope. Let's try the one next door. I think I saw an awesome bright obnoxious orange shirt I need to try on." Vic said and this time, I was the one to roll their eyes. Vic has been oddly obsessed with orange as of late and while it is not a color palette that suits most people, strangely it seems to fit with her personality, and I quite prefer it to her previous obscene fetish with pink sparkles.
We decide to make our way out of the store, but Vic accidentally drops her small accessories bag by the entrance in a grandiose attempt to bow out as we exited. Before I can bend down to pick it up, I see a hand grab it out from under me and when I look up, I am shocked to see Michael's smiling face mere inches from mine. We both stand up slowly and I can feel the air thicken as he quietly laughs at my disbelief.
*What is he doing here?*
"Didn't mean to startle you." Michael beams as he hands me the bag. When I did not move, Vic casually grabs the bag from him with a smile and a quick, "thanks so much." I continued to stand motionless as the exchange took place, silently kicking myself for never calling the cops. Once Vic registered the inexplicable aloof expression on my face, she frowned before asking the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.
"Do you guys know each other or something?"
"Not exactly." Michael states, a coy, little edge to his voice that made my blood curdle. I could tell Vic was intrigued; I had not gotten around to telling her about my encounter with Michael just yet. Panic started to build within my bones, but I push it aside as I survey our surroundings, suddenly grateful for the consistent foot traffic around us. Given the smile on his face, and the obvious enjoyment he was getting out of my stunned reaction, I decide that he must be testing the waters. The thought is infuriating.
*No, you don't get to be comfortable out in public.*
"Actually Vic, we have met." I said and I could tell that my honesty caught him by surprise. "I'd like to introduce you to Michael. Otherwise known as the reason *why* Laurie missed school yesterday." Vic's frown deepened while Michael seemed pleasantly amused with my response. A brief uncomfortable silence follows as each side considered their next move.
"I don't understand--"
"Well, didn't you ever wonder where she was getting her supply?" I ask, casually pointing in Michael's direction as I spoke. The color instantly drains from Vic's face, and I could see she was starting to piece together some of the threads from the past few weeks when her eyes suddenly widened.
"Don't take this the wrong way," Michael started to say. "But you're a lot sharper than your friend Laurie." He never took his eyes off me as he spoke but despite the hairs sticking up on the back of my neck, I stood my ground.
"Hard to be sharp when you're high as a fucking kite. Just don't forget, that's our friend you're talking about." Vic interjected, displaying a moment of confidence that drew his attention away from me. She took a decisive step towards me, slowly wrapping her arm in mine. The act obviously did not faze Michael, but it gave me a minute to register the handful of women that were loitering in the front lobby of the store.
"She wasn't high when she came knocking on my door, sweetheart." Michael said slowly, finally addressing Vic though his expression ceased being playful.
"She isn't your sweetheart, fucktart." I muttered and Michael snapped his attention back to me.
"Watch. Your. Tone." Michael said, his voice suddenly hard and cold though the expression on his face remained somewhat jovial. My body was screaming to get out of there, but if I walk away right now, he will always have the upper hand.
*This is my turf. Shake this shit up.*
"What do you mean, you have herpes?!" I said loudly, turning my head in the direction of the store's main lobby to catch the attention of three or four soccer moms who looked up immediately. It worked. Michael shifted his stance, taking a step back from us with a fake smile on his face as he turned away from the peering eyes of nosy onlookers.
The flustered expression on his face would have been worth the wait but instead, we took advantage of the fact that he turned his back to us to simply walk away. I never looked back but Vic commented that Michael had stayed by the storefront, watching us walk off down the block in a hurried shuffle. After a few blocks, she dragged me into a small café where we could hide in a booth and watch the foot traffic. My heart was pounding in my chest, so I did not even notice Jason when he first came over to ask what we wanted to eat or drink. Vic was busy staring out the front window, likely scanning the crowds for signs that Michael might have followed us.
"Sorry. Um." I looked at the menu board just behind him, but I was not actually reading anything. *I cannot focus.* "Honestly, Jason. I think we're going to need a few minutes." His shy smile seemed to lessen the throbbing sensation of blood pumping through my temples. By now, Vic had her head buried in her hands, breathing rather erratically though Jason did not seem to register our distress.
"That's fine." He said, some semblance of relief on his face. I scanned the café, suddenly realizing they were pretty packed and that we were lucky to snag the last booth. The shock must have registered on my face because Jason was quick to soothe my concerns. "Don't worry. Just make sure to get my attention when you're ready. My manager just ran out of here looking for his girlfriend. She kind of passed out in the parking lot."
"Shit." I said while Vic finally looked up at him. "Is she alright?"
"I guess. John was kind of pissed off at her to begin with, so he didn't really say much. Just stormed out of here and left us to the afternoon rush." Jason said. While he spoke, a couple at the next table turned to get his attention and Jason kind of shrugged with a smile before heading over there.
"Ok, you need to fill me in. What the fuck was that back there?" Vic asked as soon as he was out of earshot.
----------~----------~----------
SIMON
*Simple, but effective.* I was perched on the ledge of a roof across the street, watching Angela and Vicki scramble down the sidewalk until they finally ducked into the café. The boy lingered outside the storefront for a moment, pretending to receive a phone call so he could make a discrete exit and avoid further scrutiny. The herpetic ruse had served its purpose in derailing his ill-fated attempt to corner Angela in public, though his expression as he walked off implied that this matter was far from over. The inherent sense of danger seemed to linger in the air as unsuspecting pedestrians continued with their mid-day banalities, but that did nothing to wipe the satisfied smile from my face.
"I told you she would be unpredictable." Christopher muttered from behind my back. The sound of his voice was unexpected and momentarily startled me though I did not move to acknowledge his presence. Instead, Christopher quietly moved to my side to take a seat on the ledge with his back to the crowds while I stepped away to avoid being easily seen.
She was quick, and I almost did not have enough time to discretely slip away before she began scanning the pedestrian traffic for a familiar face. Even if she had seen me, it was unlikely that she would attribute my sudden disappearance from the crowd as anything more than a coincidence or mere happenstance. Mortals have an inherent need to conform the unknown to an arbitrary set of rules, which makes it relatively easy to excuse many of our immortal eccentricities as simple quirks. Much of this is due to ignorance but perhaps a small part of it is that they secretly want to keep up the façade that immortals are fictional. I do have to admit that our world is infinitely more complicated than theirs, so perhaps it is easier that they simply not know about it. By the time Vicki pulled her into the next storefront, I had been able to make my way to the opposing rooftop though eavesdropping on the last few moments of their conversation was sadly interrupted by the jackal that had just disappeared into the back alley. I watched their brief exchange with a strange sense of fascination, mixed with something I could not quite place.
"Jealousy?" Christopher's choice of words drew my attention, but the smile on his face forced me to narrow my eyes for a moment as we stared at one another. Inevitably, he turned away with a bemused expression that drew ire from within.
"Isn't that why you left." I muttered, somewhat angered by the bitterness in my tone. Christopher seemed immune to the petty torment as the smile on his face widened, so I shook off the residual resentment that had been trying to build and turned to look at the café window. Now that the two of them had been seated at a booth, it was harder to make out the details of their private conversation. Not that it mattered, I had learned a great deal about their prior exchange by siphoning information from two-bit swindler while they spoke. "As much as I hate to admit it, you were right about her abilities."
"Self-preservation is instinctual." Christopher said, tilting his head slightly to keep me in sight as he spoke. "Even her friend sensed that they were out of their depth." I scoffed, which only lightened the expression on Christopher's face as he carefully watched my reaction. I had no love for Vicki, though it was clear why these two ended up becoming fast friends. Vic, as she called herself, was as outspoken as Angela and for better or worse, their combined forces would give any predator reason to pause.
"Yes." I admitted finally, though the frown on my face seem to linger in the ensuing silence. *Still, there is something unique about Angela.* "But knowing you are on fire is not quite the same thing as putting it out."
"Indeed." His voice seemed to trail off in the cool breeze and I suddenly saw a trace of concern creep into his hazel eyes as they briefly caught the light. Obviously, his powers have grown since last we were together, and I must confess it is unfortunate that we would never be equals. I would love the challenge of trying to surpass his abilities but the mere fact that he made me what I am, makes the contest futile. In some respects, he would always be the stronger vampire and some part of me would always belong to him. *My love, my Sire.* "If only it were that easy to keep your allegiance." His tone was strangely light and reminiscent as he spoke, and for a moment I could see us as we had once been.
"Isn't it?" I asked, briefly baring my fangs at the edges of a disimpassioned smirk. Despite the tension lying just beneath the surface, it almost felt like old times between us. *Almost.* I released a sigh as he slowly met my gaze, though all it took was the fleeting image of Cassandra to remind me of the past century of silence before the moment quickly dissipates into the thin, winter air. *You left because I turned her.* The resentment once again begins to build but thinking back on our previous discussion, I decide against dredging up past transgressions. Instead, I look towards the café and redirect the conversation back to the one topic that he seemed willing to discuss. "You might as well just tell me what you're trying to avoid saying about her." Christopher's smile was unmistakable as he strangely eased back into his seat on the ledge, taking a moment to consider his response.
*What are you not telling me?*
"I guess I am merely curious as to *why* you came to Middlebrook." He said, finally looking back towards the café with the same reservation he had displayed earlier. Whatever trifling emotions I still had lingering within, disappeared in an instant.
"It wasn't for Angela." I replied, somewhat taken aback by the implication inherent to his statement. Middlebrook might have been an impulsive choice, but my decision to live as a mortal man during the modern era was anything but. I had debated my place within the Vampire Nation for well over a century but in my solitude, I had found nothing to settle the waves of torment and anguish that isolation had sewn through me. I was numb and stepping foot on the grounds of "Haunted Mansion," as the locals call it, brought me an eerie sense of calm that I had no right to. Returning to the fold, was not part of some master plan but rather a hapless attempt to feel--*alive.* "I assure you, Christopher; she was a pleasant surprise."
"I imagine she was." Christopher said softly, still studying the curves of my face as we spoke. I had turned to face him, squaring my shoulders as if I had been expecting another confrontation though I was only partially aware of my movements up until now. His burrowed frow lightened while I unclenched my jaw to release the remaining tension in my body and I stepped back to fully disengage from the point he was trying to make. *I had my reasons for coming here, she was not one of them.* "Oddly enough, I am not questioning your motives."
"Then why--"
"Because I too, do not believe in coincidences." Christopher said finally, his voice carrying enough weight that it seemed to still the winter breeze around us. I broke eye contact long enough to watch a group of students scurry out of the café, blissfully unaware of the predators meandering in their midst. The juxtaposition was intoxicating, a reminder of why I chose to keep out of the shadows this time around. Sensing the change in my disposition, Christopher smiles as I let out a well-meaning chuckle. "Although with that said, it does appear that is all she is."
*Still looking out for me then, after all this time.*
"I may not be as old as you," I started to say, bitter irony saturating my words as they hit the stilled air between us. "But I have never heard of a mortal who could unwittingly resist *all* immortal influence. Her presence here may be a fluke, but that still doesn't explain how is it that no one knows of her kind?"
"Suffices to say the condition is rare enough that only those who've met one know to recognize it." He said softly, still gazing at me with caring eyes as I probed for more information.
"So you've met one before?"
"Yes, a long time ago." Christopher said solemnly though his tone had nothing to indicate sadness, just a reservation that he had yet to give voice to. I did not dare break the silence that followed, but rather gave him room to say what he had been holding back. "The experience was anything but pleasant."
His words struck a chord in my throat and suddenly, I was speechless. *Is that what gives you pause?* For all our years together, I had never known Christopher to harbor prejudice against a class of immortals on the basis of one chance encounter. Despite our sordid history, I could not imagine him doing the same with the mortals he had cared for with such ardent fervor in my youth. Immortals are as varied as the mortals we feed on, and those differences are magnified by the blood when we are turned. No, this was something else entirely and a matter that deserved further scrutiny.
"Are you saying I should be wary of Angela?"
"Would it stop you from pursuing her?" Christopher said curtly, a coy, little smile clearly visible on his face. I narrowly resisted the urge to challenge him, focusing on the levity in his tone and wondering why he was being so cavalier with this point given what had happened with Cassandra. Something was different about him, and I couldn't quite place it. So much had transpired since we had last shared words on the matter, old wounds were begging to be reopened and yet, I could feel something distinct in this moment. There was no malice in his voice, no signs of angst or resentment in his delivery. I casually looked over at the café and considered his meaning as I imagined the two of them conversing in hushed tones with one eye on the doorway, waiting for the "threat" to re-emerge whilst they discussed trivial pursuits. I could see Angela's eyes looking for me in the crowd and suddenly, I snickered with a childlike enthusiasm that made Christopher laugh outright. *No, I suppose it wouldn't stop me.* "Nor should it. My experiences with her kind are just that, *my* experiences."
"Is she involved in--" I began to say, suddenly realizing I did not have enough information to adequately ask my question. The irony was palatable, but I found myself no longer in the mood to argue. "Well, whatever it is that brought *you* to Middlebrook?"
"I sincerely doubt it." Christopher muttered under his breath, glancing back at the café for a brief moment before meeting my enraptured gaze. I agreed of course, but the thought was comforting, nonetheless. "I don't know if you've noticed but--"
"She would be impossible to keep under thumb." I said, finishing his sentence. Christopher nodded in silent agreement and we both settled back with a renewed sense of ease.
"The immortal need for control would make her an unruly pawn in any scheme." Christopher said finally, aware that he had my full attention as he spoke. "So no, I do not consider her a threat to you. Strange as it may be, I can see nothing external that would explain her presence here so for all our purposes, Angela remains a wild card."
"And one that seems keen to keep me at arm's length." I said with some degree of defeat in my voice.
"Yes." Christopher said through his smile, somewhat satisfied with the dumbfounded look on my face. "I had noticed that about her." He licked his fangs as he spoke, implying this was a character trait of hers that he actually enjoyed though his reasoning was less obvious. I shifted my weight, obviously uncomfortable with the shaky truce that I had bartered with Angela weeks earlier. While amicable, our subsequent interactions had left me wanting with no indication that she felt inclined to oblige.
"What am I missing?" I ask, somewhat surprised at the finality in my tone.
"Nothing you don't already know, Simon." Christopher said with a warm smile that seem to wipe the defeat weeping from my brow. "As much as *I* hate to admit it, Angela is not Cassandra. So don't treat her as such." His words were deafening, even as they drifted off into the void.
"What changed?" I said slowly.
"Let's just say, I learned *my* lesson and hope that you have done the same." Christopher stated and with that he got up from his perch and left me on that rooftop. I waited, silently contemplating my next course of action while the sun slowly finished its track across the sky.