.
.
.
The night was as peaceful as it could get, as I changed into shorts, and a cropped tank top. Mason, that idiot, didn't come. As for Valen, he left about thirty minutes after because he had a weird theory that Mason could be watching us, and wouldn't want to come out, while he was still there. Despite all I did to make him stay, he eventually left, and I waited for hours— waited till the sky's colors stroked layer after layer into a midnight blue.
I made my way slowly down the stairs, and saw Faux, watching TV with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. He was shaking his head.
"I'm gonna call the authorities on all of you crazy assholes! You can't do that to Leslie," he suddenly dropped the popcorn, still talking to the TV, "this show is shitty."
"Um, Faux, where did you say the pool was again?" I asked, gently.
"Down the stairs outside, there's a door on the left," he said, without tearing his eyes off the television.
