Chapter Nine

Sam vs. the Rose

It is with great sadness today that I have to convey this horrible news to you, the reader. A tragedy of tragedies. With melancholy so deep that makes even full grown men cry, I say to you:

I totally handed Morgan his butt in Mortal Kombat AND Halo.

Eat your heart out, Cobra.

Unfortunately, it ate up a lot of my time – and I mean a lot! I couldn't believe how much time had passed after Morgan finally turned off the game systems. Hours had passed, I missed dinner, and I had to rub my eyes several times before looking back at the clock just to make sure it really was that close to my bedtime.

Man, for all the skill I had, I still had to go to sleep. And I was starving.

Morgan seemed to be in a state of shock. Or awe. Or excitement. Maybe a combination of the three. "Sam, why didn't you ever tell me you were the Chosen One?"

"The what-now?"

"The Chosen One! The One Who Masters All Games! Man, how can you not like gaming?"

I yawned, stumbling into the kitchen and taking out a bowl of leftover soup. Better than nothing. "My eyes hurt. And I'm hungry."
"Oh, but those are only the side-effects! You know what, you could totally compete in the X-Box tournaments at the Buy More. You could own all of the employees! I'd finally be able to win my bets!"

"Morgan, as awesome as that sounds," I mumbled, putting the soup into the microwave and punching in a couple buttons. "I'd rather not be used for your little money issues."

"Ah, I see. You're one of those loner types. A free ranger. I get it."

"Good." I didn't care if he was actually being sarcastic or not. I just wanted to eat and go to sleep.

"You're not going to be busy tomorrow, are you?"
"Morgan, I will forever be busy if gaming is the only thing that's going to be waiting for me at home."

"Aww."

"Go to bed, Morgan."

"But –"

"Now."

Morgan sighed, his shoulders slumped, and he shuffled dejectedly off to bed. I felt kind of bad, but I'm sorry – I couldn't waste my time in front of the TV when there were better ways to spend my time. Like, I don't know, solving certain murder mysteries.

After I ate, I hit the sack and immediately fell asleep. It didn't matter what I dreamt of because I couldn't remember it in the morning, but I was vaguely aware that it involved a lot of explosions and airplanes, and for some strange reason, pie. I just don't know.

The morning came too early the next day. The sun shone through my window, despite the fact that I had the curtains drawn, and it was all I could do to sleep until nine, before I couldn't take fighting the sun any more. Everyone was already gone by the time I managed to haul myself out of bed, which was just fine with me. I preferred being alone, especially when I was doing things that maybe I shouldn't be doing.

I took a shower, hoping the warm water would help me gather my thoughts. Everything from the previous day came back to me – teapot, Yankee Cap, secret message. I'd have to go to the Buy More and look for it. With any luck, it hadn't been received.

But as I was on the way to the Buy More, I couldn't help but feel as though I was missing something. What that something was about, I couldn't be sure, either. Did it have to do with Yankee Cap? Or maybe it had something to do with Alex? Unlikely, but what else could it be?
I was still running it over in my mind when I locked my bike into the rack and headed inside. I looked around for Chuck, but he didn't seem to be here. Which didn't surprise me – from what I learned, Nerd Herders made home calls. He was probably off saving some geek's life.

I made a beeline for the kitchen appliances. I wanted to make this quick – I was risking life and limb being in here. Lester might be planning his revenge.

On the bright side, there were only so many teapots to look through. On the not-s0-bright side, I couldn't find the message.

I examined the pot – it was the exact same one that I saw in the security footage. Where could it have gone? Yeah, there was plenty of time for it to have gotten picked up. It made my heart sink. What was I going to do? There was no way I could track down the perp!

I scowled and set down the pot with more force than necessary. I guess I could call Officer Borcsh, but all my dignity had been drained. Whatever I had to tell him was probably useless.

Strangely, I had his number memorized. The video-cassette was in my bag, and I had a story made-up for explaining how I got my hands on it. Nothing incriminating, of course. That wouldn't be very good.

I slipped behind the Nerd Herd center desk and picked up a phone, dialing the number. As I waited for it to ring, I bit my lip. What if this wasn't all I thought it was? What if Borsch caught on to the fact that I had stolen the video tape?

No, I thought to myself. Ignore that. Just ignore it. What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"Hello?" the other end picked up.

My breath came out in a big whoosh. My thoughts rushed in together and I blurted, "Hey, yeah, it's me. You know, girl from the Buy More? Yeah, I found the security footage. Of that guy on the news. He put something into a teapot, but I checked and it' s gone. Just thought you should know."

There was silence on the other end, and for a second I was worrying that I had called the wrong number. Oh, my God, what if I called the wrong number? Imagine the person on the other end, thinking I was a total nut without even waiting for them to talk? Oh, man, I'm really dead, aren't I?

But my heart skipped a beat as I heard Borsch's voice on the other end. "That's…that's very good, Miss…umm?"

"Bartowski." I finished for him. "Samantha Bartowski."

"Well, Miss Bartowski," Borsch sounded vaguely impressed. "That's good. That's very good. Exactly how did you learn this?"

"I, uh…" Damn. My mind blanked and I completely forgot what I was going to tell him. The stress had wiped out every idea from my head. Stammering, I finished lamely, "I've got my ways, let's just put it that way."

"Well, you've certainly helped the investigation. We appreciate your contribution."

Click. The line ended.

I made a face. His tone sounded automated, like he said that to every other witness. As a matter of fact, I couldn't even tell if it helped at all. He sounded so monotone, it was like he had to deal with people like me every day. Had I really helped, or was he just saying that to be polite? It didn't matter anymore. I was through, I was done. This whole thing was over with.

My adventure was finally over.

I slipped out of the desk area and headed outside. I saw Lester come towards me, murder in his eye, but I surged forward and blew past him. I don't care what planet you're from, no one wants to deal with him. And especially after our last encounter, I didn't want to risk it.

I shot out the doors before he could catch up, feeling a sense of satisfaction as I heard Big Mike calling his name. I guess there are some upsides to being a customer at a store you hate.

I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to do now. Sure, I was still positive I was forgetting something, but my brain refused to cooperate with me. But I figured I could handle that later.

My bike was right there where I left it. The flower, though, was completely new.

I did a sort of double-take when I saw it. Not because it was there, and I wasn't the one who left it, or that it was obscenely bright in color or size, but because whoever left it suddenly reminded me what I was forgetting all this time.

Dad.

Okay, not Dad specifically. But my little tradition I did on this very day – June 29th. It wasn't the last day I saw him. It wasn't the day I heard he was gone. It was the day I finally understood he was never coming back.

It took a few years for me to get around to that conclusion. I mean, I was just a kid. What do you do when you learn that the one guy who's always been there for you, always shared your jokes and bought you ice cream, suddenly vanished from your life?

You hope, that's what.

And I did. For days and weeks and months and years on end. My mother got to the he's-not-coming-back conclusion way faster than I did. Roughly within the first month we heard the news. I was disgusted that she had given up so soon, but I too had to let go at one point or another.

It still hurt, even now. I guess it would be weird if it didn't, like everyone would think I was this freaky robot who wasn't capable of emotions. Yeah, sure, I cried like every other kid in the world who loses a friend or family member. I'm not afraid to admit it.

But in the back of my mind I still didn't want to give up on him. Something was telling me he was still out there. Somewhere.

But I digress.

The flower was stuck through the basket, intertwined in the thatch. I couldn't recognize the flower at first. It was a rose, that much was obvious. White, its petals closed. And dethorned, thank goodness. Karma would just love to have me prick my fingers a thousand times over.

There was a note attached. I didn't see it at first, mostly because the white of the flower kind of blocked the white of the paper. It was tied with a piece of twine. Pricking my thumb on an invisible thorn, I removed the note and opened it, reading the rather short and concise message inside.

Meet me at the corner of Ellsworth and Pine at 5 o'clock tonight.

-Alex

What? No explanation? Just because you got me a flower and sent me a very intriguing not does not mean it will actually happen? Did he actually think I'd want to go and still not know where we're going?

Um. Yes.

What can I say? I'm a sucker for mysteries. And you can't get any more mysterious than a single flower an a little message. It felt like I was in a romantic movie, where I was the protagonist and weird things tended to happen to me. A lot.

I looked around, as if Alex were still around. Even though I knew he wouldn't be, I was still a little disappointed. I mean, I did kind of like him, even though I knew absolutely nothing about him. What was his favorite flavor of ice cream? His favorite movie? What does he like to do on the weekends? Does he sing the shower?
You know. All the important stuff.

But I shook my head to myself and mounted my bike. I had a tradition to get over with. And a date (was it a date? Was I allowed to call it that?) to prepare for? What in the world was I going to do about that? There are so many things to do –

Whoa, buddy. One thing at a time. Tradition first. Date-thingy later.

'What is this Mysterious Tradition Sam keeps going on about?' you readers are probably asking. 'Why won't she just quit stalling until the very last moment just to raise the utter suspense of the moment?'

Well, I shall tell you, O Curious Audience. I am, after all, a fair and just teenage girl (with too many issues). It happened a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

Nah, just kidding. I was nine, and it was in Italy.

What? I'm not that old!

Alright, I'll quit stalling.

Today was kind of my own Memorial Day for my dad, the day he disappeared from my life. I know you already know that, but I'm just making sure. You see, he kind of never had an actual funeral, because there was no body and no info (for me, at least). Besides, even if there were a funeral, I would've been too busy bawling my eyes out to remember.

Anyways. Today was the day where I took a mini-vacation from everyday life. I usually would've been at home, studying or something. Mom teneded to take my education a little too seriously and sometimes I'd still be learning throughout the summer. This was because Dad wasn't around. He taught me almost everything I knew.

It was also the day where I pedaled and hiked for hours, trying to find the highest point, either over a valley or the ocean, someplace nearby.

Back in Montana, it was always someplace different, because each year I got older and stronger, and Mom let travel and explore farther away from the house. I'm not saying I almost died on a couple occasions from almost falling down ravines or nasty run-ins with bears and mountain lions, but those are stories for another day.

It was a tribute to him, from the time we went to the Mediterranean, climbed a decently-sized hill, and stood on a cliff overlooking the beautiful crystalline sea, little boats floating by with their white sails.

We were surrounded by beautiful exotic flowers that smelled so sweet it felt like heaven. I was only seven or eight at the time, and the view was more than any picture book could describe. My dad had plucked a flower from the overhanging plants and carefully tore off the petals, trying not to rip them.

At the time, I was a little affronted by this strange action. Why would he ruin a perfectly good flower? It didn't look so pretty when all the petals were gone? What was he going to do? I almost complained aloud, but I'm now glad I didn't. It would've ruined the moment.

Dad stood on the ledge of the cliff, precariously close to falling, and opened his palm.

The wind magically happened to pick up at that moment and the sight of the petals exploding from his hands and twirling crazily over the water far below was the most dazzling thing my seven-year-old self had ever seen.

And that concludes my wonderful flashback. What'd you think?
It kind of sounds corny now that I think about it, but when you're a little kid still dreaming of being an astronaut and living in the Wild West and riding fire-breathing dragons (sometimes all at once), you're up for anything.

I do something similar: buy a bunch of brightly colored flowers (preferably not daffodils or poppies, because I don't like the smell), keep them alive long enough until you reach your destination, pull off the petals, and wait for a really good wind to pick them up and send them away. Sometimes its quick and I get to go home, and other times I have to wait for hours for things to happen.

As for the flowers in Montana, I usually stole some of the genetically altered ones my mom grew in her garage, or yanked them from the flower bushes (neither of which I'm proud to admit, since Mom works hard on both to look and smell great).

I took off on my bike, trying to remember where I last saw that flower market – was it across the boulevard, past the grocery store, or down Bloomsbury Avenue near that chicken place?
Turns out, it was neither. I found it after going through a labyrinth of streets, one time mistaking a newspaper vendor for Jeff and promptly running over his foot, and another time almost coming to terms with imminent death and the afterlife when I almost got uncomfortably close to a big SUV going way over the speed limit.

After risking life, limb, and my right ear (after the vendor chucked a newspaper at my head), it was between a coffee shop and a videogame store. This was especially weird, since I was pretty sure I saw the same store, only in a different location. But whatever. I got my flowers and quickly left.

The next step was finding the proper place for the send-off.

I figured the best thing I could go for was the beach. And while that took a hefty amount of time (A grand total of 2 hours, 7 minutes, and 38 seconds on a mountain bike made for rough terrain). The one thing that can describe a Californian beach?

Palm trees.

Oh, so many palm trees.

I've never come into contact with one until today. First of all, they are really, really big, and they're not those cute little drawings in picture books. They aren't especially beautiful, but you can't admit you feel like a Lilliputian when you walk right up to one. It was breezy here, and I could hear the waves even though I was half a kilometer away. There were dozens of tourists shops and restuarants, and a lot of people. I looked around desperately. Where the heck was I going to find a cliff, a private one, in this place?

I found my answer rather quick.

In the distance, I could see a low mountain rise. On that mountain were pretty little houses on cliffs. There were plenty of trees, and a lot stuff to climb. It seemed like the perfect place to look.

Granted, I might've done some not-so-legal things to find said spot. I had to go over biker speed limit, ignore a couple of angry pedestrians, and trespass on private property. But I swear I didn't do anything! It wasn't like I was killing anyone stepping on grass and hopping over some ten-foot fences.

I found it behind a rather large house of three floors and more than enough Jacuzzis. Sure I had to sneak past a fat guy in on a lawn chair by jumping from his brick wall of a fence to the lowest edge of the roof, and sneak across without being seen by him or anyone inside. No biggie. It was all for a good cause.

But clearing that house, I discovered a small clearing. It was covered by a low canopy, so I had to stoop to get in. Brush and trees lined either side, and I had to push and kick my way through. At the very end, I found a ledge, no more than a couple feet of clear space. The sun didn't enter this little corner of the world, but that was okay. 95 degrees Fahrenheit was just fine for me.

It was amazing how the flowers (pinkish-redish-purplish and looked kind of like an orchid, but I had no idea what they were) managed to survive my little escapade, but they were only a little beat up. I lost a couple on the way, and others had broken stems, but that was okay. I didn't particularly need them, anyways.

And thus began the pulling of petals.

The first time, I didn't pay much attention to how many flowers I picked. But one time I realized that the numbers of flowers I had taken was the same number of years he had been gone (only three…but that was because Mom caught me the last time and I was trying to be more inconspicuous with the picking). Now I had five in my hand, and it felt weird to think about how many times I would have to do this. How long was it going to be until he came back, if at all? Would I be doing this for the rest of my life? How dangerous can being a doctor be if you suddenly disappear without a trace for five years?

I shrugged to myself, resolved. I'll keep doing it until he comes back. Simple as that. I didn't have to overthink it.

The petals were silky smooth in my hand, and the smell, while a little acrid, filled the small space I was in. At least it wasn't so bad. Not as nice as the ones Dad picked, but still.

I looked over the edge of the cliff, wondering if anyone in a boat that passed by would see a girl's head poking out of the cliff face. That would be awkward, wouldn't it? I sure hope they wouldn't call the police.

I extended my hand and let the petals fall. There were still some trees below, but half-way down the wind picked up and carries away the petals in a huge swirl of color, carrying them away. They looked like sick butterflies, caught in turbulence, and flickered in the sunlight as they disappeared.

I sighed. I wanted a replay button on life to see it again, kind of wishing I hadn't been so hasty, but whatever. It was over now.

Something caught my ear. It was a weird sound – SHHHHUUUSSHHHHH! – like someone was being really loud about shushing someone, only really far away. I looked around, confused. Was it coming from the house? It was coming from the wrong direction.

And the sound didn't stop, and it didn't so quite so human anymore. What the heck was making that sound?

I got up and leaned over the edge of the cliff, where the noise seemed to grow a little louder. Left? Right? Nothing.

What in the world?

That's when I looked down.

"Whoa!" I jumped in surprise and nearly fell head-over-heels off the precipice. I grabbed a tree limb at the last moment and clung for dear life as I stared at the waterfall directly below me, seemingly gushing out of the rock wall like some giant facet of the earth.

It was quite unsettling, seeing that water coming out of a hole ten feet beneath my feet. Was I standing above an underground river? That was so cool, it was hard to imagine.

Then there came another sound, one that I could clearly identify.

It was the sound of an engine. Not a car – it wasn't nearly as loud – but a boat. I looked over to the right and saw a yacht speeding in like a bat out of hell, past some trees blocking my view, and right into the cliff wall. The engine kept going until it faded away.

I was frozen for a moment, stunned, still clinging to the tree.

"Why is it that when something weird happens, it has to be on your day?" I demanded, shouting at the sky, as if my dad could hear me.

I couldn't believe it. The one day I had off and I'm seeing boats running straight into a rock face and not explode to smithereens. I mean, it didn't even sound like it hit anything. Like it just kept going and going and going…

Where the heck could a boat go when it was heading straight for land at sixty miles (knots?) an hour?

I got up on my own two feet, frustrated. Great, more mysteries that I knew for sure was going to bother me until I got a decent answer. I mean, what was I going to do about a boat heading straight for land and not crashing? It was a sheer wall of rock (I saw it from the roof of the fat dude's house) – I'm no whiz at boats, but I'm pretty sure they aren't impervious to solid land masses.

But there was nothing I could do. My internal clock was telling me that if I didn't head off now, there was no way in history I'd ever be able to meet Alex on time. I mean, it took two hours to get here! It had to be almost two o'clock, and I had wasted enough time already.

I made my way back, skipping across Jacuzzi Man's roof, scaling walls, and avoiding the yipping, hostile Chihuahuas. I had stashed my bike in a bush behind a big sign in front of the entrance of the suburban community. There was a gate, but it was closed now. I had just walked right in earlier, but now there was a guard nearby. I threw myself behind a Hummer as he walked by, scanning the area for any hobos or loonies who managed to get in while he was off duty. As soon as his back was turned, I dashed to the bushes near the gate.

It took only a couple minutes to find a hole that some dog must've dug up and crawled through that. I guess I wasn't the only one dying to get out of here. It was a tight squeeze, and I got dirt on all my clothes, in my hair, and underneath my nails. I ended up scratching my face and back, but otherwise I was unhurt and unseen.

Grabbing my bike, I pedaled as swiftly as I could to get out of there. The ride down the mountain was pretty quick, considering the only thing I had to do was use my breaks every once and a while to get around a curve or avoid a nasty relationship with the grills of a car.

The rose had managed to stay on my bike with minimal damage, with much deliberation on my part. I had to make sure it was still there every five minutes, turning around while riding so much that I almost scared myself into crashing into a palm tree. I narrowly avoided it and decided that if I wasn't careful, it'd be me that was going to get hurt.

The two hours seemed to fly by, yet they wouldn't be over soon enough. I rushed through traffic, even dodging around a couple slow cars near the interstate to get ahead of the game. I was nervous. The clock was ticking, and I absolutely didn't want to be late.

My legs felt like lead by the time I got home. After four hours of riding a bike and trespassing private property, I was ready to take a long shower and hit the sack. Then I remembered I still had someplace to go to, and that maybe Alex and I should improve our communication skills because I wasn't sure I was going to be ready for anything for the next couple days.

Stich in my side, I had just set the bike against the fountain and took out the flower to examine the message when a sudden wind picked up, tearing the flower right out of my hand and into the air. I gasped and scratched at the air for it, but the wind whipped it up…up…

And into the weathervane on the roof.

I looked glumly at it. Dad just loved making my life difficult, didn't he?

I sighed. Of course I had to get it, especially since I didn't exactly remember the address written on it. I had been so occupied with the Tradition I barely had time to think about it.

How was I going to get up there?

I briefly considered knocking on the door of the owner's flat, but that was a bad idea. It wasn't like it was Chuck's place, or there wouldn't even be a question. But it wasn't Ellie's and Awesome's, either, which may or may not have been more difficult to explain to. No, the rose was on top of Casey's apartment, and if there was one guy I wasn't going to willing talk to, it was him.

I mean, seriously, have you seen that guy? He's, like, Chuck Norris incarnate –only scarier. Me having to explain that there was a rose on his roof that I really needed to get or else my life would cease to exist as we know it? Yeah, I don't think so.

I looked around, thinking carefully. There was the fire escape ladder, but that was on the other side of the building, and the weathervane was at the top of the little tower.

On the other hand, there was a little balcony on the second floor. It had a low roof, and even though no one was home, I could still climb the walls by using the window ledges. It wasn't too hard so long as you've got practice and good grip.

Leaving the fountain, I pulled myself onto the window ledge and reached up, my fingers finding small niches in the wall to pull myself up. Getting a hold on some brickwork a foot above the window, I lifted myself past it, using the glass for support as I pressed my sneakers against it. Swinging slightly, I hauled myself up on top of the window. My toes had very little area to stand on, and the protruding brickwork was too low for good balance. I quivered, standing there uncertainly. If I didn't move now, I was going to topple backwards. If I didn't move now, I was going to topple backwards.

I felt myself tipping backwards. Panicking, I jumped with whatever leverage I had left. My arms flailed in the air, and caught the very lip of the balcony, over ot my right. My very finger-tips were the only thing keeping me from crashing into the ground. I gasped, a little stunned by this little stroke of luck. I reached up and grasped a bar from the guardrail protecting the balcony. Using this new, firmer hold, I managed to get my body up and over the rail. I was relieved to feel solid ground beneath me.

I took a second to catch my breath. All this for a little rose? My life depended on this!
I looked up. There was a roof covering the balcony. Climbing onto the rail, I reached up and held the edge of the gutter for support. Taking deep breathes to calm my nerves (It would be a long fall if I lost balance), I felt the ceramic shingles and used that probably ill-used upper body strength. Why should I be so worried in the first place? I was doing all this kind of stuff back at that suburban rich-person place – why was this feeling so much harder?

Well, maybe because people I knew live here, and the one guy I'm actually afraid of is the one guy who happens to own the apartment wall I was scaling.

I shook my head and took a second to motivate myself. Just get this stupid thing over with, Sam. Casey probably wasn't even here, and it wouldn't matter anyways if you'd just get it and get down. If you can climb freaky rock formations in the Garden of the Gods, you can scale a stupid two story house!

Lifting myself up was a little scary, considering that the shingles shifted and slide underneath my grip. When I was actually on top of the roof, I found myself almost stuff with fear, worried that I was going to slip and fall. It didn't help that the roof was slanted.

I slowly made my way across the roof – which was really, really hot. I've climbed a couple of roofs in my day, but I guess it can get pretty hot in California. I hadn't noticed in the Suburban area because I wasn't on my hands and knees, but now I was really regretting wearing shorts today.

I came to the edge of the roof. There was a three foot gap between me and the tower-like structure in front of me. I would've gone around, but my hands were literally burning up, and I didn't like taking the long route in a lot of situations that involved more pain.

I rotated my body so my legs were sticking over the edge. Then, changing my mind, I decided to stand up. Wobbly from the height and a craving for some nice, cool lemonade, I gauged the distance. It wasn't going to be easy to jump – it wasn't the length that bothered me. It was the landing. The roof of the little tower was a lot more slanted than the one I was on right now. If my feet didn't get the right grip, I could slip, or topple, or completely fall off.

I crouched, spreading my arms to my sides, and jumped. I was hoping for the best…and expecting the worse, which was exactly what happened. My foot slipped when it landed on the shingles, and shot out from underneath me. My chin smacked into the ceramic, and I felt myself slipping off. I gasped, scrambling for something – anything! – to stop my impending doom

My right foot, surprisingly, managed to catch the ledge of the roof I just jumped off. My sliding came to an abrupt stop. I hung there, frozen in this ridiculous position between two rooftops, wondering how I was gonna get out of this one. Too much weight was on my left leg, the one supporting me. If I tried to shift it, I'd fall again.

I looked around and saw the rose above me. I extending my arm, pushing with as much strain as my legs and spine could handle. I could just reach it…

Got it!

Relief flowed through me as I plucked the rose from the weathervane. Got you, you little son of a…

"Sam!" cried a voice. "What are doing up there?"

The shout startled me so bad that I nearly fell again. I hugged the hot roof, stunned and feeling like I had a sunburn on my cheek. I hadn't heard anyone approach!
I looked down, feeling a blush rise in my cheeks. Ellie and Awesome were below, with the most astounded looks on their faces. I guess this was a weird situation to be in. With a rose, no less.

"Um…" I struggled to come up with an excuse. It wasn't like I was doing anything bad or, you know, secretive. "Getting something?"

"Get down from there right now!" Ellie commanded with something between concern and anger. She was dressed in blue scrubs, as was Awesome. I hadn't thought of them being home for a lunch break or anything. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Um, sure," I said amiably, feeling a growing sense of dread inside of me. I hadn't thought of my escape just yet. "I'll do that. As soon as I know how."

"Why are you even up there?" Ellie asked me, her brows drawn together.

"How did she get up there?" Awesome rectified, with a mixture of approval and confusion on his face, rubbing his chin. What – was he impressed or something?

There was a beeping noise and Ellie glanced at her watch, frowning. "We have to go or we'll be late. You get down from there, Sam! And if you get hurt, I'm calling your mother!"

"Aye, aye, Mrs. Awesome!"

Ellie gave me one last skeptical look before heading towards her car. As soon as her back was turned, Awesome flashed me a huge grin and two enthusiastic thumbs up before racing after her. I watched them go, relieved.

That is, until I saw the ninja.