Chapter 2:3

1769, May 12th

"Hey."

I bit my lower lip and looked away.

"Hi."

The silence was almost suffocating and even thought it was freezing outside where we stood on the old sentinel, I felt too hot. My shirt suddenly seemed two sizes smaller and I loosened it up.

"So…"

"Well…"

We quietly watched each other and compared the person who had once been one's best friend; now the same person, but who seemed like a fully different being. Had we changed so much that we didn't even recognize the other?

Alex's hair had grown longer and with a brighter shade. His face had already lost its baby fat and revealed a slim face with a dimple in his chin. He was longer than me by maybe three inches and his body shape was lean and relaxed. Green-grey eyes waited patiently for me to finish my examination and I couldn't hold myself back any longer. It was him, Alex.

"Alex, I'm so damn sorry!" I exclaimed and ran forward to him. We had been standing still, gazing at each other, not wanting to forgive. "I'm so sorry!"

I didn't know that I was crying until it was too late, and by then I didn't even care about it. All I knew was that I had betrayed my friend in the stupidest of ways, being an immature fool and a spoiled little brat. I realized that when we hugged each other for what had seemed like decades of isolation from each other instead of a couple of years. He held me close to him and I cried, cried and cried. How could I have been so stupid? Why had I held a grudge – yes I had – against him under these past years? Of course he didn't follow me into death; he brought help and told Auntie. What else could he have done? Fight them? No, I was stupid to run straight into that brawl, I am nothing else but a fool. But now when I think about it, where did the black man go?

"Forgive me," I sobbed and tried to hide my face in his shirt. I didn't want him to see me cry. "I've been an awful friend."

He patted my head and I could hear a smile in his voice.

"I have as well. I'm sorry for that day…"

Alex's voice broke and I understood that he was close to tears as well. I giggled and pushed him away from me.

"You're crying?"

"Hey, am I not – but you are."

I dried my cheeks with my sleeve and smiled at him.

"Oh, but I can see something—"

"I got something in my eye," he replied and turned his face away from me. I could see him motion his hand upwards to his face. "It's pollen, probably."

"It's not even in season for that now, you fool," I added but decided not to annoy him further. "I've missed you."

Alex turned around and smiled at me.

"I've missed you as well."

We decided to climb into the apartment again and it was timely; a sudden shower of rain poured down over the city and embedded Boston in a grayish mist. The smell of warm soup exploded in my nose as soon as I entered and my stomach growled in protest. God, I'm hungry.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" I asked Alex and started to pack up my belongings. "Auntie is cooking something delicious, I reckon."

He sank down on my old bed – that I hadn't used for years now – and to my surprise I saw that it wasn't dusty as it should be. My whole room was tidy. It hurt in my heart when I understood that my aunt had cleaned here and I wasn't far away from bursting into tears again.

"Sure, I'll stay."

I threw in my clothes into the drawer and started to sort out the rest of the bag's contents. The beautiful porcelain vase, that I had wrapped a sweater around for it to survive the journey, was flawless and I almost couldn't wait to give it to my aunt. Her birthday would be soon and I would save it until then. The vase had been expensive but I had run errands and worked as a messenger to collect the amount of money it would take to buy it.

"So how was New York?"

I shrugged as if saying "nothing much" but it had indeed been a wonderful time there. The people were good, albeit a bit stingy, but that didn't bother me much. New York had grown a lot more than Boston and was almost what one could call a real city.

"I heard you went there with that man, Mr. Kenway," he continued and his voice got a chilly edge that I tried to ignore. "Why did he even help you?"

"I don't know," I said, honest with my answer, and was surprised of something sharp. "Ouch."

Blood trickled down the palm of my hand and I cursed. I had forgotten the only weapon I was allowed to keep by Mr. Kenway. He didn't let me wield neither swords nor pistols but had offered me a small dagger. It was in self-defense, he had explained, as it seemed like I always got into the worst of troubles. I had also taken a vow not to threaten any innocent or to show the weapon to anybody.

"Mh?"

I quickly glanced backwards and to my relief, Alex hadn't seen the wound. He was lying on the bed and stared up into the ceiling, his hands somewhere beneath his messy blonde hair and with his feet dangling an inch above the floor.

"Nothing," I answered and searched for some cloth to stop the bleeding. The luck was on my side and I found a grey handkerchief. I tied it carelessly around my hand and hoped that no one would notice. The sanguine liquid made me immediately recollect the memories from when I got shot and I suddenly realized: where had the black man run off to?

"By the way," I kicked the empty bag under my bed and sat down next to Alex. "What happened to that man? The one with the package, you know."

He rose up and scratched the back of his head. We suddenly heard his stomach rumble and burst out laughing.

"Well," Alex paused to catch his breath. "As soon as you grabbed that branch I knew you were out on really thin ice. I hurried to your aunt and bade her to help me search for some guards. Then we heard the shot and we ran there. You were gone and the men; dead. I couldn't believe my eyes. I was wondering if it was you who had killed them or…"

He was silent and I waited for him to continue, not wanting to interrupt his story.

"It seems as you were saved, fortunately enough. I don't know what I would've done if you died that night."

I caringly put my hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to continue. His voice was breaking ever so slightly and he took a deep breath before he proceeded to tell me about the rest of the horrible night.

"I first thought he was dead but he called at me when I got closer. By then, the whole neighborhood had woken and there were so many people out on the streets. Some guards even thought they were starting a revolt but they quickly got everything under control. They arrested me at first, thinking I was a thief who had robbed then hurt the poor man, but your aunt quickly came to my rescue."

"After a lot of arguing, they surrendered to your aunt's witty tongue and let me go. By then, they had already called for a doctor and a stretcher. I stayed with him and asked for his family and where he lived, his name, etcetera; whatever to keep him conscious. He told me his name was Achilles – funny name, I know – and that he lived alone in the Davenport Homestead, you know that gigantic house a couple of miles from here. I thought it was abandoned."

"I should probably travel there," I said when he had finished.

His eyebrows shot up high.

"What are you going to do there?" he asked and his expression was worried. "You've just gotten here; you can't leave again."

I sighed. I don't even know if he can give me a lead, but at least a name. A name will be enough. I will take out my revenge on the bastard who shot me.

"I want to see if he can give me any information about the man who almost killed me," I answered truthfully. "He'll pay for it."

Alex's eyes widened and he grabbed me by my shoulders.

"Absolutely not," he said and shook his head, giving emphasis to his words. "Oh no, you're not doing that."

"You're not my father," I replied and met his angry eyes. "I can do whatever I want."

"No, I'm telling your aunt."

I sighed again and clenched my fists.

"They almost killed me and here you are, saying that I should just let the ordeal pass?" I brushed away his hands. "Bullshit, I'm getting them."

"Watch your tongue," he warned. "It's not ideal for such a young girl like you to talk like that, much less to want to kill somebody."

I shrugged and rose from the bed.

"I'm not just some 'young girl'," I argued. It painfully reminded me of how my aunt's girlfriends treated me. Like I was some broken doll, just waiting for someone to come and pick me up. No. "I'm—"

I interrupted myself. I had been just a hair's breadth from revealing my loyalty to the Templars. Alex watched me in confusion, his green-gray piercing into mine. His mouth opened to reply when I was saved.

"Dinner's done!"

We walked in silence to the kitchen, refusing to look at the other. It hurt me, it really did, especially since we had forgiven each other just before. I hated to fight or even have a quarrel with Alex but I would not back down from this. I would travel to the Davenport Homestead and seek out Achilles. Everything that Mr. Kenway had taught me would come to use now and I would get real experience – as well as sweet vengeance.