Aaron’s stone-faced expression cracked, as he turned to give me a dumbfounded look. Meeting his questioning eyes, I let out a little annoyed sigh, “I refuse to believe that you don’t know the meaning of ‘cojones’.”“I’m well aware of the meaning,” he raised his eyebrows, fighting back a smile. “Just a little surprised at your choice of words…”“Yeah, I can really paint a verbal picture,” I responded dryly.

— M.A. George

Ah, yes…” He made an exaggerated nod. “I was supposed to be filling you in on Being’s story.” He winked at me playfully, as I kept up my glare. “Now, where should I begin?”“Tell you what, let me get you started,” I came back. “Once upon a time, there was this Uber-creepy old man—who looks like he lives in a haunted shack and eats small children for breakfast—and I decided to make him my new best friend because… Okay, your turn.

— M.A. George

All kidding aside…” I focus back on Pike, genuine sincerity in my tone.“Thank you…for everything. For dragging my ‘clueless ass’ through the ocean, Andover hill and vale, when you knew it was futile and stupid—but that I’d still try to do it, with or without your help. Thanks for tracking me down when I was alone and helpless; and for giving me a voice when I thought all hope was lost—”“Ugh, for crying out loud… Enough already,” Pike squirms, a nauseated grimace twisting his hairy face. “Now you’re going way overboard with the gratitude… That kind of gushy crap is meant to be dished out in small doses,” he gripes. “Please make it stop…before I have to snap my own neck, just to end the suffering.” He backs away into the crowd, giving Tristan’s shoulder one more slap with a sly wink. “Hurry up, Man, and do something. Kiss her, muzzle her…shove a sock in her mouth—

— M.A. George

And you’re okay with this?...” I studied his calm expression, my own features anything but calm.“Naidoo…” Aaron drew the word out lazily with a slow, deliberate shake of his head. His face remained strangely composed.“Then can I please have some of whatever sedative you took…because this,” I waved my hand, motioning from his head to his feet, “is way too cool under pressure.

— M.A. George

As one of the little streams starts snaking my way, inching closer to the toe of my shoe, I hop over the spreading puddle and out of its reach. I don’t look back to see if it’s going to follow me. I’m already three blocks away and still gaining speed

— M.A. George

A teasing smirk flitted across his face, as he completed his thought, “I’ll try not to take it too hard if I fail miserably, because you can be the world’s greatest skeptic…”“Nah…” I coughed out a little chuckle, “not when you’re involved. I’m your number one fan… You couldn’t shake me if you tried.” I gave him a playful wink, adding musingly, “Though I might stop short of hanging out in the bushes with binoculars…”“Well, then,” he grinned, “clearly you’re not my number one fan.

— M.A. George

But you know as well as I do that anger won’t solve anything.”“I beg to differ,” he shrugged. “Anger can be quite rewarding…at least for those of us who have the option of blasting our enemies to oblivion.

— M.A. George

Don’t be so concerned,” he whispered. “We will get through this, I promise.” “What makes you so certain?” I couldn’t help my skepticism.“We have no other choice,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Is that really all you can come up with?” I scowled. “Couldn’t you just lie and tell me you have some kind of secret badass weapon that is going to make this a piece of cake?

— M.A. George

Fair enough… No inhaling battery acid,” I smirk. “We can’t breathe battery acid, can we?

— M.A. George

For someone so intuitive,” he said, shaking his head, “sometimes you only see what you expect to see.

— M.A. George