I stepped out of Tazina’s home, surprised to see clusters of stars already out in the night sky.
“Did we really spend the whole day there?” I asked Simone as we walked through the dark streets together.
“Well, there was a lot to cover,” Simone replied. “Yetioedmflsjrfeudjiskly prepared for the Strokes interview, right?”
I gave her a sideways glance. “The real thing’s not going to take that long, is it?”
Simone laughed. “Course not. It’ll be an hour, two at most.”
It wasn’t long before we stopped in front of Simone’s house. “Do you want to come in for a bit?” Simone asked, giving me a sidelong look. “You could stay the night.”
I shook my head. “I should really get home. But thank you. I’m not sure I would be able to do this without you and Tazina.”
“Of course,” she replied with a soft smile. Simone reached out, placing a hand on my cheek.
…What was she doing?
“I would do anything for you,” Simone continued.
Oh, no.
“You should know that already.” She leaned forward.
My hand shot up between us. Simone’s lips connected with the palm of my hand. Her forehead crinkled. Slowly, her hand slid away from my face as she took a step back.
“I’m sorry,” I said, lowering my hand. “I don’t… feel that way about you anymore.”
Simone scoffed. She covered her face in a hand, rubbing her eyes. “Isethiojfdmsjerhdfujlse?”
I winced. This was an incredibly inconvenient time for my defect to act up. “Can you repeat that?”
Simone sighed, uncovering her face as she met my gaze. “Is there someone else?” she repeated slowly.
“Yes,” I replied after a pause. “But, Simone, even if there wasn’t – ”
She threw up her hands. “Yeah, I know,” she said, turning to go inside her house. “Ietoedklsmdfst.” Simone slammed the door shut.
I hadn’t expected her to still have feelings for me. The relationship we’d had in the System was a long time ago. So long ago that when she was kicked out, I hadn’t even tried soot yet.
With a sigh, I turned away from Simone’s house, continuing back to my apartment alone along the dirt roads. The night was quiet aside from the sound of a few stray dogs barking.
Then I heard the footsteps.
Crunch. Crunch.
I slowed to a stop.
Silence. I glanced back at the empty street with narrowed eyes.
I resumed walking. The roads slowly transitioned from packed dirt to the more familiar cobblestone streets, where lampposts lit the walkways.
Crunch. Crunch. They sounded heavier than my footsteps. Crunch. Crunch. I wasn’t even wearing boots.
Crunch. Crunch. I spun to look back down the road. No one was there.
I stepped forward, peering into the shadows at the corners of buildings. Nothing.
Maybe it was my imagination. Or an echo. It could also be my defect. It did that sometimes – made me hear things that weren’t there. That was rare, though. And I could usually tell when what I heard wasn’t real.
I frowned at the empty street, then turned my back on it. I made my way to the crowded square. There was a performance on stage. Any footsteps near me would be drowned out by the laughter of the spectators.
It wasn’t until I arrived home that I stopped looking over my shoulder.
To be continued…