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2.In the weeks that followed, I would discover that Chrissie was something of aprodigy. She could pick up new skills in the blink of an eye and usually withoutany practice whatsoever. Mastering the paddle-ball in a matter of seconds wasprobably the least of her abilities, though it sure impressed the hell out ofme. At times, I found it downright spooky, but on that lazy summer morning atthe beginning of June, it was the proverbial mystery of the ages. I never hadthe opportunity to ask her about it, however. Just at that second, Chrissie'smother appeared on the front veranda and called out to her.Both of us turned towards the voice, Chrissie a fraction of a second earlierthan me (and without losing her rhythm for so much as a second). The womanstanding at the top of the steps was tall and willow-thin with jet black hairslicing down the left side of her face. She was wearing a plain blue house dressthat somehow rippled against her figure like liquid silk. She looked to be inher late. Drying her skin with a huge fluffy towel brought other, more anxious feelings. Why wasn’t Charlie back yet? She needed her. He longed for her soft lips and expert fingers; her sweet body, her wonderful smile.Dressed in a satin robe, he blow-dried his hair while she brushed it.The girl was an hour late now.Grabbing a thong and slippers he dressed and went out into the hallway. The corridors were empty, she saw; most students would be in their dorms and rooms, or maybe to the dining hall already.That’s where Lucian went, but all she found were two Barbs dressing the tables. No, they hadn’t seen Chuck. It was a nickname, chosen because it so funnily contrasted with petite, quicksilver Charlie.Lucia visited the Barbies’ dorm, only to find Nico.“An hour?” she asked, frowning – then she smiled. “Ah well, where can she go? Maybe she’s back already and you missed each other?”Nico had become a friend; well, almost.Her sarcasm seemed to have evaporated, and even though he could never forget.
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