Chapter 8: I Might Be Too Impulsive

Certain sensations are immensely satisfying. When I used to play baseball in high school, I loved the CRACK of a good hit. Wood connects with leather and the ball disappears into the sky. Delightful.

As it turns out, the feeling of a good punch feels quite similar. Fist connects with face and the animate piece of trash creeping on my friend falls back into his seat. Exquisite.

"You- hey-" he spluttered, trying to overcome his surprise. I could see the emotions mixing on his face. He couldn't believe some woman would have the audacity to strike him. He couldn't believe it hurt so much. For a moment, I hoped he might cry.

He found his anger instead.

Through a bleeding lip, he snarled at me,"You whore!"

Which is a weak insult, if you ask me. My sexual promiscuity--if that were even a thing deserving of scorn--didn't really apply to this situation. He was just relying on the negative associations with the word to carry his meaning across. You know who does that? The unimaginative.

He made a move to lunge across the table at me, but Imogen intervened. She leaned forward and put a single finger to his temple. His eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed into his seat.

"What?" I glanced at Imogen. She was collecting her things.

"A memory spell," she said. "He's just reliving a few childhood experiences. We don't have long."

I grabbed my bag and slid from the booth. We made our way across the club.

"Do we need the others?" I shouted over the pounding music.

Imogen nodded to a dark corner, where Juliet was making out with someone I didn't recognize. Right, she was probably fine.

"I'll text Rosy and Portia."

We worked our way through the crowd of dancers. I could feel my heart racing and the blood pounding in my ears. Music and the heat of so many bodies pressed together made for an overwhelming, suffocating sensation.

And then we were outside, the crisp night air and relative quiet of the street a pleasant shock on our senses. I reflexively took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline rolling through me start to subside. Beside me, I noticed Imogen doing the same.

We caught each other's gaze. She giggled, and it was like the floodgates holding my emotions back broke open. We were a mess of snorts and laughter, drunk on good company and buzzed with alcohol.

"You just--" Imogen could barely get a word in between bouts of giggles. "You just punched him. That was amazing!"

"I was trying to be like you." I mimed punching rats. "Gotta keep those vermin off of us."

"You're amazing," Imogen said. "Much better at it than I am."

"Maybe I'll keep us both safe from now on then." I leaned in close to her. She didn't pull away.

"I... I'd like that." She looked down at me; her silver eyes seemed to glow in the night. She was beautiful, maybe the most beautiful thing in the entire world.

"You are..." I fumbled for the words. Conversation doesn't always come easily to me, so I generally tend to act first and talk later. Tonight was no exception.

I leaned up and kissed her, searching for that warm moment of connection where my lips met hers. We were the perfect height for each other, I wanted to put my hands around the back of her head, to lose my fingers in her hair, to feel her strong embrace as she wrapped her arms around me.

Instead, she broke the kiss off early.

She was startled and flushed. My heart broke and my veins ran cold.

"I... I don't..." she started.

"I'm so sorry--" I tried to apologize, but she was already gone.

Imogen turned and ran from me, disappearing into the night. I sank to my knees.

I heard a soft meow from beside me. Aurelia, having just emerged from the alleyway, regarded me with as sorrowful an expression as her cat face might allow.

"Tell her I'm sorry," I repeated dully. "Please tell her I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Aurelia nodded, and padded quickly after her witch. The evening air, which had made me feel so alive and awake moments before, now felt cold, and served only to remind me of the one terrible constant in my life: no matter where I went, I would always be alone.