He could sense her following him, even amidst the crowd of the boardwalk. The faint shuffling of her thong sandals on the rough concrete, the whisper of the wind through her skirts, and that vaguely familiar, oddly comforting scent that he couldn't quite place. He could tell that she was only a few paces behind him, the speed of her steps falling easily into sync with his no matter how often he sped up or slowed down. But, everytime he'd discreetly turn to check her out, she was gone. He felt like Orpheus, leadin Eurydice from Hades, but he had no idea just who this metaphorical long lost bride was. She'd disappeared completely by the time they reached the video store, and though he strained all his senses, she'd left no hint as to who she was or where she'd gone.

"Dwayne!"

The sound of his own name pulled him out of his revery. Covering his confusion with a winning smile, he slapped Marco on the back as he slid from his bike. Their nightly visits to Max's Video might have seemed pointless to the outsider, but more was exchanged in those tense, silent moments than in an hour of conversation. Tonight though, Dwayne wasn't paying attention 0 he was distracted by the thoughts of whomever it had been that was following him. Had the other boys heard? If they had, why hadn't any of them spoken up? Was he just losing his mind? It certainly wouldn't surprise him if he was. The ride back to the cave was quiet, no sign of anyone - further proof that he'd let his imagination get away with him. And reluctantly he'd let the event slip from his mind.

The next night, she was back - in jeans this time. He could hear the faintest swish of fabric whenever her thighs brushed up against one another. Yet again, whenever he'd glance over his shoulder, ever so carefully, she was gone and no matter how hard he searched he couldn't place her face among the dozens that thronged around their little group. He wanted to say something to the others - see if they noticed something that he didn't, but somehow he supposed that they noticed even less. If David had been aware of someone following them, the problem would have been quickly dispatched of. He was certain that he'd gone far off the deepend when he heard a small high pitched voice singing just below his left ear.

"We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong. Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing: Love is a battlefield."

He glanced down sharply, and was met with a mop of dark hair, long and messy, framing a pale face with dark kohl lined eyes. Hauntingly familiar but he still couldn't place it. The ring in her nose glinted in the neon lights thrown off by one of the near by carnival rides. Her small frame surprisingly had no problems keeping up with his long strides. He didn't slow as he looked her up and down. There was no doubt about it - this was her. The same haunting perfume, and the sound of her acid wash jeans swishing together between her fragile legs was even clearer now that she was close. She smiled at his gaze, a soft scornful laugh passing her lips.

"We are young. Heartache to heartache we stand. No promises or demands. Love is a battlefield." The singing stopped. "You should do a bit more research on your family tree, brother mine. Maybe then you'd recognize your own sister." She was gone as quickly as she'd come, disappeared back into the crowd without a word. And as much as he twisted and turned, looking for her over the heads of the crowd around him, he couldn't spot her. He shook his head, turning his attention back in front of him as he tried to clear up what had just happened.

"Who was that?" It was Marco's voice that broke the silence between them.

"Dunno." It wasn't a lie - he'd hardly recognized the girl. And he hadn't seen his sister in years - she'd been just a hair shy of 8 when he'd left home. Though, she would be nearing 19 now. But how could she have found him? More importantly, why would a girl want to lie about being his sister. He tried his best to push all these thoughts from his mind - it seemed that he'd have all his questions answered soon, whether he liked it or not. There was no use wasting time on them.

Across the boardwalk, Angela was leaning against one of the carousel horses, watching the world around her spin in a lazy circle. She felt as though she'd been spinning for the last three months, slowly but surely out of control. All until she'd found just the smallest hint as to where her brother had disappeared to all those years ago. Santa Carla. The name sounded exciting, exotic, to the small mid-western girl. She'd imagined palm trees, and cool drinks with umbrellas in them and beautiful skies that were always filled with sun. The entire drive from Oklahoma, she'd heard laughter and seen suntans.

It had rained her first day there. She'd wasted that day, locked inside her dingy hotel room, that had more than likely housed a thousand heroin addicts, and stared out the window at the dismal gray sky. As soon as the weather had cleared, she'd begun her search. Surprisingly, it wasn't hard to spot Dwayne amidst the throngs of people that frequented the tourist trap pier. In fact, he'd found her - nearly knocking her over with his bike one night. She'd recognized his deep laugh and wild hair instantly - he hadn't aged a day since he'd left home.

At first, she'd only trailed after him, weaving through the masses a few paces behind him, ducking out of sight whenever ever he'd begin to turn around. Soon, she was certain he knew of her presence, she'd seen him stiffen the day he realized she was there. Tonight, she'd taken the next step, spoken up and let him know she was there. Tomorrow, well tomorrow she'd have to think up something else to say. For now, though, she hid herself away back at her hotel and slept hard, her weak body desperate for rest after being pushed to the limit.

She woke early the next evening, giving her time time shower, dress, grab a small snack from the pitiful excuse of a vending machine down the hall, and finally swallow the massive cocktail of pills she was required to down nightly. Pulling her hair back off of her face, she grabbed her bag on the way out the door.

Tonight, he'd found her.