Photos, Notes and Notation

Faith stared out the window of her room in her uncle's beach house, watching the waves caress the shore. A lone piece of driftwood caught in the current scratched patterns in the wet sand before the tide pulled it from the beach and washed away its writings. A few moments later, the waves and the driftwood returned to do it all again.

Around her room, sheets of music lay scattered on the floor, on her bed, the table against the far wall and along the window seat on which she sat. She hadn't left the familiar four walls much since she received the phone call from New York. Ryan and Rachael were around; Through her bedroom door, Faith could hear them go about their day as they went about the house. But she wasn't in much of a mood for company, so had seen little of them and vice versa.

Absently, she twirled a pencil in her hand as she looked down at the sheaf of papers in her lap, more pages littered with musical notation. Picking up the first page, she frowned, crumpled it up and tossed it across the room, not even bothering to aim for the waste basket. It was garbage, all garbage.

Not for the first time, she wondered what her cousin had been thinking when he asked her to join his band. Sure, it was loads of fun, but having fun doing something didn't necessarily mean you were any good at it. The critics seemed to believe that their band had some talent; Ry was always floored by the reviews they'd get the next day.

Sighing, she stood up from the window seat and crossed her room, the paper in her lap falling to the floor like a cascade of water. As she approached her dresser mirror, she watched as her twin in the glass closed the distance between them. Her tan complexion told of her mother's Hispanic roots, but her eyes shone with the piercing blue hue that came from the European blood of her father.

Gently, she tugged loose one of the photos tucked into the mirror's frame.

Her big sister at six years old smiled up at her from the picture with their father's same blazing blue eyes. Faith had always thought she'd see Isa again. She had been wrong.

Her finger traced the worn edges of the photograph as she stared. Two more pairs of her father's eyes smiled back with matching grins: those of her two-year-old self and those of her big brother, Nic.

She frowned suddenly at a thought. Carefully pocketing the photo, she began to rummage through her dresser, then her closet, throwing various articles of clothing onto a hockey bag sitting in the corner.

An hour later, pages of a new song sat on the kitchen counter beside a note for Rach and Ry, in barely legible handwriting scribbled on a crinkled piece of previously-discarded sheet music.

"Need to go to NY.
Sorry I wasn't much company.

-Faith"

Lost Connections

Faith was skating some warm-up laps around the artificial-ice rink when her cel phone rang. Gliding to where she had left it, she picked it up from the boards at home bench and stared at the number on the call display.

She only recognized that the area code was from New York, but her bandmate, Rachael, was the only person she knew from the 'Big Apple', and Faith would have recognized the number if it were her. Confused, she flipped open her phone to stop its desperate ringing and greeted the caller.

It was a doctor from a New York hospital.

Her sisters were dead.

She could only reply with stunned silence.

"Si-sisters?" She managed to whisper after what felt like ages. Her voice sounded small and lost in her ear.

The doctor expressed his condolences as he described the cause of death, some sort of brain-eating disease.

When the call ended, she flipped closed her phone and stared blankly past the boards of the rink.

She had had sisters.

She remembered Isa. She had kept the old photo taken at her big sister's birthday party years ago. Faith, with her short hair and baby grin at the age of 2, had sat between Isa, then 6, and their brother Nic, 5, as their father had taken their picture. Isa had been bright and bubbly; she looked like an angel with her cherub face and halo of blonde locks. Faith had always imagined she looked... had looked beautiful all grown up. Her big sister was... would have been 21 now.

Faith wiped a tear she found rolling down her cheek.

Stepping through the gate in the boards, she sat on the home bench and with stiff motions, untied the laces of her skates.

The other names the doctor had listed, Sophie, Trinity and Adaline, were unfamiliar.

She knew her father had continued to live his life without her and her mother after the friendship between her parents dissolved. But when she was in New York, Faith had caught glimpses of him from a distance as they lived their separate lives. She had seen the love he had for 'His Special Lady', the phrase her father used when she was too young to understand the term 'wife', and watched as the size of that side of her family grew without her. Eventually, there were many more children than just Nic and Isa vying for their father's love and attention.

She had never learned the names of any of her other siblings until today.

As she mechanically put away her skates and locked up the empty rink, she wondered who her sisters were. She knew their names now, but she couldn't put faces to them.

Her roller blades hung forlornly from her shoulders by their laces. She usually skated along the road to and from the beach house and the rink, but she didn't feel like skating anymore today. Instead, she walked the dirt beside the road, the pavement already too hot for her bare feet despite not yet being past noon, until it curved where it met the beach. Then she walked onto the sand and followed the rhythmic shoreline the rest of the way home.

Sophie, Trinity, Adaline... who were they? What were they like? Had they been as bubbly and full of life as Isa? As musically talented as their father? As pretty as Papa's 'Special Lady'?

She didn't know.

And now she never would.

Aimless...

Despite being freshly plowed, the sidewalk still hid underneath the light dusting of snow that continued to drift from the night sky. It was late, but Faith didn't want to go home.

It wasn't home anyway. Not really. Not anymore.

Her mother's New York apartment had always been too big. It had originally meant to be home to her, her half-siblings and her parents, but in the end, that never happened. Her mother had broken off the engagement to her father not long after she was born. Her parents had stayed friends for several years after, but then suddenly, inexplicably, her father cut ties with them.

She didn't realize her eyes were tearing until she felt the drops overflow and run down her cheeks. Hugging herself, she quickly wiped the tears away before the empty street took notice.

She didn't care about what happened between her parents. She didn't even care about why her father had left.

She just wanted her Papa back.

Her roller blades rhythmically clicked on the seams in the sidewalk. Looking around, she realized she had wandered to some place familiar. The chain-link fence was shorter than she remembered now that she was older, and the playground had been renovated with more slides and swings, but she still recognized the place. She didn't need to read the sign out front to see this was where she had once gone to school.

Skating to the gate, she tested its lock and found it was open. With a sad smile, she slipped in.

She rolled across the pavement towards the swing set, as the snow continued to fall in slow motion around her. She didn't remember much of her time in school; she had only spent two years there. Even then, her clearest memories were of her cousins and those were few. They had had their own friends to play with and she had been too shy to befriend her own.

She seated herself on a swing and sighed. Aaron used to push her on these swings when Ryan would run off with one of his friends. Now Aaron was god-knows-where doing god-knows-what, and Ryan was completely focused on the band and his girlfriend. Faith still had no idea why they had asked her to join them; she still had no idea why she had said 'yes'. Hockey was still her first love, after all.

Planting her blades into the sand and snow around the swing set, she pushed off and let herself swing back and forth like a forlorn pendulum.

Harry, an old family friend, had unintentionally unnerved her when she had run into him a few days ago. Music was his life, so he knew what he was talking about when he began explaining to her the hard work and long nights involved in being part of a band, a level of commitment she wasn't sure she was ready to make.

Not for the first time and likely not the last, she wondered what she was doing with her life. Everybody else had inspiration and motivation, and they were moving forward. Even her mother was finally moving on and dating again (even if she was dating a freaky-haired dork).

Swinging back and forth, she looked up at the sky. As she watched the pure white snow drift down, she realized for the first time she was all alone.

Everybody she knew was leaving her behind.

Birthday by the Lake

"A picnic?" Faith asked with a laugh, skating ahead of her mother on the path through the park. "That's kind of dull for a 16th birthday, isn't it, Ma?"

"Oh, shush, love. I'm not your uncle. I can't be extravagant and shower you with expensive gifts like he does." Syl chuckled back and shook her head. "Ah, here we are."

The path wound past a lake, and Syl pointed to an empty picnic table by the water. "That spot's perfect."

Placing the picnic basket she carried on top of the table, Syl pulled out a table cloth and lay it on the surface, then she began to place the food on it as they waited for the others to arrive. "You're too young to remember this, but this is actually where we celebrated your first birthday, so it's actually a fitting coincidence that we're celebrating your 16th here."

"Really?" Faith smirked as she sat down at the table to untie her roller blades. "So there's a sentimental reason why we're celebrating my birthday in a lame way?"

"Smart mouth." Laughing, Syl sat down beside her daughter, and playfully jabbed the girl in the shoulder, before resting a hand on the baby belly that held Faith's little brother.

"It runs in the family, Ma." The girl grinned as she slid off her blades, then peeled off her socks. Her bare feet nestled into the soft cool grass, a different sensation than the hot crisp sands back home.

Home

Faith was wide awake, though she shouldn't have been. She had taken an evening flight, so her plane had landed right at midnight. While all the other passengers were yawning and dragging their feet, she was wired and received strange looks from the porter who was helping to carry her guitar and her hockey bag and stick.

As she passed through the Arrivals gate, she heard a familiar voice and smiled. Scanning the small crowd hovering around the gate, she caught sight of Aunt Beth waving and calling. Dropping her bags, she ran into her aunt's arms for a hug.

Tentative Truce

Faith smiled and handed the phone back to Miss Rita with a 'thank you', then wandered the house looking for her cousin.

She found him on the deck, staring at the sea, and approached cautiously. There was still a 'water war' going on between them and they were both jumpy from almost constantly chasing each other around her uncle's property.

Quietly, she withdrew the water gun from its place in the waistband of her shorts. Keeping it there since she found it, she had become a quick draw the last few days. She was never without it now, not while her cousin was armed and dangerous as well. A bucket containing ice cold water balloons dripped condensation at his feet, while he stood at the deck railing watching the waves.

"Ryan."

He spun suddenly throwing a water balloon he had in his hand. She dodged just in time, feeling some of the icy spray as it exploded on the railing behind her. Dashing for a deck chair, she fired as she ducked behind it, but her shot went wide.

Crouching behind cover, her heart racing, she had to remind herself why she had been looking for him in the first place.

"Ryan! Truce! I need your help!" She could hear his feet thumping along the wood of the deck, as he tried to get into a better position to strike. She needed to let him know she was serious. "My Ma just called! She needs our help!"

She peeked around the side of the deck chair, hoping that would be enough to call for a cease-fire. "Truce?"

Girls vs. Boys

You can only stand and watch a pair of boys sit on a beach and talk for so long.

Faith watched Rachael from the corner of her eye as she leaned over the deck rail to aim at her boyfriend with the water gun, while she aimed at her cousin Aaron. She laughed when Rachael squirted Ryan in the back, and when his brother turned to see what was going on, Faith hit him with a stream of water full in the face. Their expressions were priceless, and she couldn't stop laughing. Looking over at Rachael, she could tell she couldn't either.

Glancing back down at the boys, she saw them running up the beach towards them and grinned. "Looks like we're in trouble." Grabbing Rachael's hand and laughing, she began to run, leaving her guitar sitting against the railing of the deck.

Flowers On The Ocean

Her mother was wrong.

The trip from the condo to the beach house was not in fact an hour on foot. It actually took her just over two hours on roller blades, the place was that far removed from the center of the city. Though admittedly, bringing her guitar with her had probably slowed her down. At least, the small bouquet of flowers she had bought was light. She had specifically asked for something that would float on water, much to the initial confusion of the florist.

She left her blades and guitar case on the sand, and taking only the flowers, she waded barefoot into the water. Farther up the shore, she could see the sea-side house that belonged to her uncle, sitting quiet and undisturbed despite the emotions and chaos that had surrounded the area the last few days.

She had thought of going there to see his family, but felt awkward at the idea. They were his family, not hers. The only person she really knew was her uncle. Everyone else was all essentially strangers to her. Even knowing she had gone to school for a short time with some of the children wasn't reassuring. She doubted Ryan, Aaron or Alexia even remembered her. They had all been so young; she barely remembered what any of them looked like herself.

As the water reached her knees, she looked out over the horizon. The ocean looked so full and blue, vast and limitless. Until a few days ago, she had been looking forward to finally learning how to surf from her mother when she finally came home. The ocean had seemed a source of endless challenge and adventure.

Now that it had swallowed her uncle, she felt like she was staring at a sleeping beast, a monster that would devour her too if it woke up cranky.

The stems of the flowers crunched in her grip as her hands tensed at the thought, imagining what it must be like to be lost in those depths, without light, without air, and just waiting to die.

She glanced down at her legs, partially submerged in the clear water. It felt warm and comforting against her skin, and she could see and feel the wet sand squish playfully underneath her feet. A tiny, colourful fish fluttered past her toes like an underwater butterfly.

She found it hard to believe this was the same ocean that had stolen her uncle.

Wading farther into the sea, until the ocean was kissing the hem of her shorts, she gently placed the flowers in the water. It floated like the florist had promised, so she gave it a push to send it out towards the distant horizon.

She watched it drift slowly, lazily for a long time. Not having caught any current to give it direction, it seemed listless, aimless and confused, unsure of where it should go. She wanted to give it another push, but it had already floated out of her reach.

So she stood there, helplessly watching. Waiting for the ocean to take her flowers, she wondered if she had just left them on what was now basically her uncle's grave, or had given a peacing offering to appease the ocean so it would return what it had taken away.

Partings...

"Are you sure you're going to be okay on your own?"

Syl smiled weakly. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

Faith folded her arms and forced a smile to hide her frustration. "You're avoiding the question, Ma." She had seen her mother unravel numerous times before; she knew the symptoms very well now.

"I'll be fine, love," Syl lied, hoping she sounded convincing, then laughed in an attempt to further mask her feelings. She refused to fall to pieces in the middle of the airport just before her flight. "Listen to you. You're sounding all grown up again." She smiled, wishing she were leaving Faith under better circumstances. She wished she had raised her under better circumstances.

Sighing, she looked her daughter up and down. Faith was still small for her age, but Syl felt like the girl was still growing up too fast.

Everything happened too fast.

And friends and family died too soon.

Syl suppressed a shutter at the thought and hugged her daughter. "I'm sorry I haven't been a better mother. You deserve better."

The apology caught Faith by surprise. "Geez, Ma. You did fine." She remembered what her uncle had told her when she rode in his sportscar. Her mother was blaming herself again. Wrapping her arms around her, Faith held her tight. "You're still doing fine, Ma."

Syl was unconvinced; she had been at this point once before, when her boyfriend died and she pulled her daughter out of school. She wasn't going to make the same mistake again.

As much as she wanted Faith to come with her, the girl needed to be somewhere fixed and stable, a place she could become familiar with and make friends. Faith couldn't do that on the road where the people and settings were constantly changing. Admittedly, the unique experience had led her to be surprisingly mature in some aspects, but she was mentally under-developed in others, especially social skills. Outside the band, the road crew and her uncle, she was completely friendless. That wasn't healthy for a girl her age.

Her mother wasn't going to be selfish this time.

"I better head through the check point before they start boarding call. I'll call to check on you everyday, okay?" She kissed her daughter on the forehead as she reluctantly stepped away. "Oh, and I left your roller blades in the closet in the front hall if you want to use them," she added with a smile. "Just promise me you won't cause anymore trouble with them."

Fidgeting, Faith bit her lip, not wanting to tell her mother that her uncle had bought her a new pair the day before he disappeared. "I won't, Ma. I promise." She tried to hide a mischievous smile as a thought came to her. Technically, that means I can't get in trouble with the *first* pair of roller blades. I can get in trouble with the *second* ones if I really had to.

Syl looked skeptically at her daughter's expression. "Faith, love. What are you thinking?"

"Nothing, Ma. Really."

"Alright," she conceded, not entirely convinced, but she didn't have time to inquire further. "No trouble, or my PA is going to fly back here to drag you back on the tour with me." As much as her girl needed some place stable, if it proved she needed parental authority around even more, she wasn't afraid to make that a priority. There was a difference between keeping Faith around because Syl herself was an emotional wreck, and keeping an eye on the girl because she wasn't responsible enough to be on her own yet. "And... call me right away if you hear any news, okay?"

This time, Faith closed the space between them and hugged her mother. "I will, Ma. I promise." At least, that promise she can be sincere about. "Hey, Ma? You didn't answer my question."

"What question?" Syl had honestly forgotten.

"Are you going to be okay on your own?"

She squeezed her daughter tightly, as she began to shutter. Her brother was missing and hope faded with each passing day. Her voice was low and strained when she replied.

"Honestly, love. I don't think I have a choice in the matter."

Amusements and Distractions

The Kawosaki had slowed when it turned into the bus terminal, but hadn't yet come to a complete stop. Impatient, Faith hopped off the back of the motorcycle while it was still moving, stumbling as her feet struggled to match the inertia that still propelled the rest of her body forward.

Ahead of her, her mother's bike screeched to a halt as Syl yanked off her helmet to scream. "Faith Laurent! What do you think you're doing?"

The girl ignored her mother as she ran past, pulling off her own helmet and racing over to where the large luxury tour bus was entering the terminal.

Sighing, Syl shook her head. Leaning forward to rest her elbows on the handle bars, she propped her chin in her hands and watched her daughter wait excitedly for her uncle with a mix of exasperation and amusement.

Failure to Deliver

She couldn't get past security. The big, burly men wearing dark clothes, dark sunglasses and earpieces wouldn't let her through.

They looked like secret service men, but without the stern business-type jackets. Instead, they wore black polos and black button-downs, still stern and serious, but having an air as if they had walked out of a men's high-end fashion magazine.

Faith wasn't impressed and glared at them through narrowed eyes as she took a seat at a nearby booth. Setting down a flat, gift-wrapped box on the table, she let the roller blades she held in her other hand thump loudly on the floor to sound her displeasure.

They didn't believe she was his niece. They had tried to get in touch with him through his personal assistant over their earpieces, but he was 'unavailable'. They tried to contact her aunt the same way, but her PA said she was 'unavailable'. Without anyone to vouch for her identity, they wouldn't let her backstage to see him.

Frowning, she untied her shoes and slipped them off, as the guards looked on with what she assumed was indifference. She couldn't really tell with their eyes hidden behind the secret-service glasses. It was possible they were looking on with confusion or even curiosity, but it seemed inappropriate for a security guard at a high-end nightclub to show that kind of interest in something so trivial while on the clock. They had to be ready for any sort of trouble. A girl taking off her shoes in a corner of the club, though odd, wasn't inherently trouble.

She wasn't obvious trouble until they saw her slip on her roller blades.

She laced them up fast, before security could approach her. Besides they had already asked her to leave, (she was under age after all, and unaccompanied by an adult), so she was leaving.

But they never specified how they wanted her to leave.

Quickly grabbing her shoes and the flat, wrapped box, she jumped to her feet and bolted from the table before they could grab her, skating into the crowd. A waitress screamed as she almost spilled her tray of beers as the girl sped past.

Suddenly, Faith heard the woman scream again, followed by a crash, and looked over her shoulder in surprise. Barrelling through the crowded club after her, one of the security guards had knocked over the poor waitress. A puddle of beer and broken glass lay on floor next to her while a co-worker and a club patron helped her up.

Shaking her head, Faith turned her attention back to where she was going. Grown-ups sucked.

The girl skated a round-about way to the exit, weaving and dodging past club-goers, and doing so gracefully, which she couldn't help feeling proud about. She did scare a number of the people she sped past, but at least she avoided knocking anyone over. That was rude. Not to mention that it would cut down her speed and kill her momentum.

Besides, the guards chasing her were considerably less graceful or considerate anyway. Their effort to catch her terrorized people more than Faith did herself on her roller blades.

When she reached the front of the club, she burst through the doors in a grand exit, surprising a pair of club-goers as they entered. On the street, she kept her speed until she skated several blocks away, only slowing down when she noticed the security guards had given up pursuit. She was no longer in the club, so it was no longer their job to catch her.

Sighing, she rolled down the street at a slow cruise. Now that the anger, excitement and adrenaline were gone, all she had left was disappointment.

She looked at the package she still held in her hand. The box was now bent and dented, and the Christmas wrapping torn at the corner where it got snagged on something. At least, the contents weren't fragile, even if the packaging didn't survive. She would have to re-wrap it when she got back to her hotel room.

Then she noticed she had dropped one of her shoes and swore.

[Follow-up on Busted on Sylvia Mendoza's blog.]

Fast Car

The Lamborghnini streaked down the empty highway, weaving from lane to lane.

"OhmygodohmygodohmyGOD! I am soooo grounded!" Faith laughed nervously. She was breathing heavily and could feel her heart racing in her chest. Her knuckles were turning white from how tightly she was holding the steering wheel. Having never driven before, she was afraid to end up in a car wreck or worse.

"So did you really mean it about buying me a car, Uncle Neil? Or did you just say that to bug my ma?" Not that the girl minded if it had just been a joke. The look on her mother's face was priceless.

[Continued in Comments]

Battered, Not Broken

Her mother had been on the phone constantly since Uncle Gareth landed in the hospital for a second time. This come-back tour hadn't been going as well as hoped, leaving the woman distracted and a little stressed. Adjusting the hood of her jacket and a pair of newly-bought sunglasses, Faith took a minute to watch her mother pace worriedly back and forth beside the tour bus, then tried to slip into the vehicle unnoticed.

The woman's hand shot out and grabbed her, just as the girl brushed past. Faith winced at the pain on her arm from the pressure on a hidden bruise.

"Where d'ya think you're going, young lady? You've been avoiding me all day. Now what is going on?" Her mother asked as she hung up her cel. She looked her daughter up and down. "What's with the get-up? You're not famous enough to be ducking from the paparazzi now, are ya?" A tiny smirk tickled at the corner of the woman's mouth, amused at her own joke, before disappearing again in a mother's worried frown.

Sighing, Faith reluctantly removed her sunglasses and lowered her hood. A trail of bruises lined one side of her face.

"I'm fine, Ma," the girl growled, before her mother could utter a word of panic. "Some bastard kid tried to mug me this morning, that's all."

To Faith's surprise, her mother said nothing as her hand gently reached up and turned the girl's head to take a closer look at the bruises. But Faith could see the worry screaming in her mother's eyes.

"You're... not mad, Ma?"

Her mother shrugged, still looking at the injuries. "It's not your fault, love. These things happen. More often than they should with government incompetence, but they happen." She sighed, "I'm just glad you're okay. I..." Her voice began to shake, as tears formed in the corners of her eyes.

Faith frowned with concern. "Ma? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," the woman wiped her eyes, and tried to smile. The crack in her voice betrayed her feelings. "Just the thought of losing anyone else... again... especially you..."

The girl hid her annoyance and put on her best, comforting smile. Admittedly, it had been a frightening experience, but except for the bruises she really was completely fine. Her attacker had it worse with the broken nose she had given him. Faith had only hidden her injuries, so she wouldn't worry her mother.

"It's okay, Ma. I'm okay." She wrapped her arms around her mother and cringed as a shot of pain erupted up from the bruises on her back when the woman returned the hug. "I'm alright, Ma. I'm right here."

"I know, love. I know," her mother whispered, as if it were a struggle to speak.

Faith held her breath, hoping her mother wouldn't hold her any tighter.

Starting Over...

"Ma? Are you sure about this?"

First it was the trip to City Hall. Now this.

"You remember the last time you tried starting over, right, Ma?" Not that Faith didn't want her mother to finally pull herself together. She just didn't want her mother to have another false start like last time, and end up even lower than when she had begun.

Her mother smiled. Not the weak smile the girl remembered seeing growing up with the reclusive woman. Not the half-hearted smile her mother used when she didn't feel like smiling at all, but didn't want to let on that she didn't, which until now had been every day for the last three years.

It was a closed, tight smile, a small one that only showed at the corners of her lips. A tiny, guarded smile that seemed to be afraid to show itself, in case the reason for its existence was snuffed like a blown-out candle. But the smile reached her mother's eyes, which was something Faith had never seen before today. It was a smile that wanted to be sincere but was afraid to be.

"Seriously, Ma, are you sure?" she asked as she followed her mother across the vast and empty condo. It was big, too big for just her and her mother, taking up an entire two floors of the building, and being unfurnished made it feel that much bigger. "Can we even afford this place? I mean, you haven't toured in years. Shouldn't you like wait or something?"

"Listen to you," Faith's mother laughed as she stopped to stare out one of the large full windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. "You'd think I was the irresponsible teenager while you're the mature adult. Since when was there a role-reversal?"

Since you began sulking, whining and being sorry for yourself, the girl thought, but said nothing. She merely shrugged.

"Come check out the view, love," the woman said as she waved over to her daughter. Faith came over reluctantly, uninterested in the view until she actually saw it.

"Holy shit."

"Watch your language, young lady!"

"Sorry, Ma," she muttered, caught by surprise. Her mother had never cared about her language before. Faith looked at her, confused, but her mother's attention was already back on the vista before them.

The new condo was located high on the building, giving a breathtaking view of the surrounding area. Before them lay the crisp blue of the ocean, flanked by the pale sands of the beach. Dark mountainous islands lay in the distance before the endless waters melted into sky.

"I actually wanted a beach house like your Uncle Neil's place, but there wasn't anything for sale. So I figured a beach-side condo was the next best thing. Oh, by the way," she pointed out the window to a group of houses by the water some distance up the beach, "Your uncle's house should be out there somewhere. About an hour or so from here." She smirked, "Though you could get there in about half that if you ran."

Faith groaned, and her muscles ached instinctively at the mention of running. "Seriously, did Uncle Neil slip something in your coffee when you two went running that day?" Every day since, her mother had woken her up, so they could go running together every morning.

The woman smiled as she turned away from the window to inspect the rest of their new home. "Nah, he just gave me something I needed."

"Which is what?" Faith hated when her mother got cryptic.

"A friend."

The girl wondered how her mother's smile could seem happy and sad at the same time.

Halloween Scare

Faith wandered aimlessly through the kitchen of her uncle's restaurant, completely bored out of her mind. Her mother had to go practice with her band, but had promised she would teach Faith how to cook when she got back. The prospect excited the girl, but the waiting was driving her crazy.

Where the hell was her mother? Wasn't she going to break up her band anyway? If that were true, then why was she still practicing with her bandmate?

She spproached the swinging doors that opened to the eating area of the restaurant and peeked out. Business was steady, as usual for the popular bar-and-grill, but not overcrowded. She wouldn't get in the way of her uncle's empoyees if she stepped out of the kitchen for a bit.

Slipping through the swinging doors, she looked over the occupants dining in the restaurant with detached curiosity. They were chatting, laughing, talking, bonding as they ate their meals. Some were in groups of friends or family or a mix of both, but most were just couples. Sometimes a man with another man, or a woman with another woman, but usually it was a man and a woman sitting together, talking, whispering, smiling, exchanging glances -- she looked away, blushing, when her eyes caught a man and a woman kissing at a far table.

Her mother and father used to kiss like that a long time ago. Then it was her mother and one of her uncles. Not the one who owned the restaurant. Another uncle who was kind of dorky, but always managed to make her mother smile.

That was the last time Faith remembered her mother smile like that. There was one other who almost made that smile come back again, and made Faith smile too, but he never seemed interested and her mother gave up on him.

Shaking her head, the girl turned her attention away from the happy, smiling people. They were reminding her too much of what she and her mother didn't have. Instead, she looked over to the bar and wondered if the new bartender who just started working today knew how to make a decent milkshake.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder from behind, and she turned, expecting to see one of the cooks or waiters wanting to ask her to run an errand.

Instead, she was greeted by a growl and a set of fanged teeth.

She screamed in surprise and back-pedaled to get away, only to trip over her own feet and fall to the floor.

Then she noticed the laughter that filled the restaurant. Looking up at the figure standing over her, she watched them slip off the monster mask from their head to reveal a baby-faced boy about her age. He grinned at her, seemingly satisfied at the results of his scare.

She groaned to herself. She had forgotten it was Halloween.

Faith frowned up at the boy, but that didn't seem to change his expression as he walked away.