Sarah Nicolas

I groan but answer the call in a sing song voice."Kitty Lung, hero or terrorist, you take your pick.

I thought you were just typical teenagers.__o one has ever called me typical. I can__ say I like it.

Do you hear that?_ he says. __ou mean the crashing thunder and pounding rain?_ He shakes his head. I listen closely, trying to filter out the sounds of the storm. Then I hear it. A whooshing sound with a fast buzzing underneath it. It__ so, so familiar but I can__ quite put my finger on it. A very definite black spot appears among the dark gray clouds. The spot lengthens horizontally. The puzzle pieces click into place and I get the full picture: Fighter jet. Headed straight for us. It could be a coincidence, right? F-22 Raptors flylow through giant thunderstorms over major metropolitan areas in the middle of the night all the time. Right. My illusions of a coincidence are shattered - by a missile flying straight at me. It would seem this guy has infrared, too. I mean, missiles? Really? Isn__ that a bit overkill? I start flying away, but Sani stops me. __ive!

His gaze settles on my lips for a few seconds, then slides up to meet mine. Oh Gods, how my hearts pound. The heat of a blush sneaks up my neck and makes itself at home on my cheeks, leaving a blazing trail in its wake. Sani can definitely hear my frenzied pulse. Hell, as loud as it is, my father can probably hear it from here.

The right side of the screen then shows a close-up of the protestors. There are only about thirty of them, but Gods bless them they're energetic. And they have catchy picket signs, like: "Set the dragon-people free!" and "Dragons are people, too!" and "End Racial Segregation! Again!

Greasy burgers and fries are so much more delicious than swallowing a cow whole.

My name on his lips is a symphony. How can two simple beats of basic human language engulf me so completely? We stare at each other for a mini infinity. I__ terrified of speaking and breaking the spell that__ fallen over us.