“I’ve got friends,” she said indignantly. “You’re going to be here for the foreseeable future, so try to make some friends, alright?” “Shut up,” he said with a roll of his eyes. Double homicide isn’t something that just goes away with a wave of my hand. You can visit other camps, maybe some third-world countries, but your face is on every database. “You’ve got to promise to try to get along with everyone,” he told her finally with a grimace she could hear in his voice. Ianthe faced what was left of the sunset. They sat in silence for a moment, now back to back. “Gotcha,” he assured her, letting go when she nodded. She flailed her arms behind her, reaching out for something, anything.Īres hoisted her up by the shoulders and tagged her back to safety. He smiled, and clapped her on the back - she lurched forward and suddenly was on the edge of the rock wall. Instead, she pulled it back and tucked it into her hood with a downward smile. He looked tempted to brush it back, like he would have when she was a smaller girl. It was almost too windy her hair whipped around her face, flying into her mouth, getting stuck in her eyelashes. She wore a ski coat from the eighties, a worn out hand-me-down from one of Santa Fe’s Goodwills, but the November chill still made its way into her bloodstream. It was the far end of sunset, and the green-painted rock wall they sat atop glowed near-golden. She giggled and he raised his eyebrows at her, but she laid back on the wooden surface. “You’re the worst daughter I’ve ever had, you know.” He bit into the brownie anyway, grinned at her, eyes bright like they always were when he looked at her. Too much love, so little hate // self para
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