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Some friend right?So one day after school, a guy who was in 9th grade invited me over to his house. I knew of him but really didn't know much about him except he lived just a few blocks away from me. I didn't feel comfortable saying yes but I did out of nothing better to do. We walked and talked about how school sucked. Brett, the 9th grader, was much taller than me, he was skinny like me and was pastey white too but he had long dark hair and wore thick dark rim glasses. He had really bad acne and didn't seem to have many friends. We entered his house and got two pops out of his fridge before heading to his basement. We hung out and played Atari for about thirty minutes. I wasn't very good but enjoyed playing since I wasn't allowed to have an Atari. We played combat on different settings. We were laying on the carpet playing talking trash when Brett needed to go take a piss. He left and I continued to play. I was feeling comfortable hanging out with Brett. Brett returned and we played. For such an unassuming man, he was very bright when it came to finding opportunities and quickly taking advantage of them. In the short time she had known him, his workforce had grown from ten to twenty when he opened two new branch offices of CSI in adjacent counties. Both new offices were opened with contracts in hand to guarantee their financial viability. It was this bright future, and the comforts that would accrue to Bill and his family that encouraged Marion to be patient and wait for him to proclaim his intentions.Bill had a burning memory of the hurt that he felt when he lost Zena. He had loved her unconditionally and still did, when he was honest with himself. Marion was completely different. She was in love with him, he was sure, and he was trying to decide if he could push his reservations to one side and commit himself to her. She had taken a sincere interest in his business and talked often with him about his plans. She rarely disagreed with him on anything and their.
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And, despite the clamor all around her, this was the principle occurrence that drew me to her. Over our heads, two men were preparing for a duel yet her eyes, blue, were what drew me to her. They were calm, tranquil even, despite the bullets that were about to pierce the cafe windows. Perhaps that was the best way to describe her, calm. She pulled me in that way. I suppose it was her serenity that really outlined her beauty. For her beauty was enough to distract me from the gunfight that day. She really did outshine the entire event. To this day, I cannot remember what had transpired there. Was the bearded man the undercover cop? Was the cop killed? I never could remember, despite the reporters who reminded me afterwords in an interview and the repeated news bulletins that went on and on all that week. All I could see in the little mental movie that made up that morning were her eyes. Later, when we had both subconsciously slunk to the floor to avoid the bullets, I, of course,.

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