Late Night Out

*12:15am*

12:15am

The night was young and the sky was deep, reflecting its bold rich colors upon us.

Conflicted emotions bounce back and forth in my head like a ping pong ball in the middle of a match. I'm pondering about whether walking around with a stranger was my smartest move. Probably not.

But do I regret it - no, not really.

And besides, it was a Friday night and I can do whatever the hell I want with my life.

Before leaving the apartment I grab a pack of sticky notes and scribble on the top one a message for Cassie for when she wakes up.

You drank too much, feel free to keep crashing on the couch (for tonight). I'm taking out the man who helped walk you home (don't question, don't worry). There's food in the fridge and help yourself to some asprin ~Amy

P.S. You owe me

Hoping that she can read my tiny printing I gently place the note on her forehead, being careful not to disturb her deep slumber. There is no way she would miss it.

Quinn's silhouette is still visible from inside the apartment. His stance is relaxed as he leans over the edge of the railing, probably examining the passing sight seers. At least, that's usually how I end my nights and wind down.

I'm about to grab my jacket off the sofa arm when I see him fondling something between his fingers. A slight glare bounces off the chain he wears around his neck.

My thoughts leave the over coat and wander over back to the balcony entrance.

"Wouldn't it be one of the most insightful, yet typical questions if I asked what that was you were fiddling with?" I asked quietly, hoping not to scare him with my sudden return of presence.

And he doesn't even flinch when he turns towards me, delicate lips set in a placid line.

"Yes and no," he answers, hands traveling back to his neck. "People just like to think this is a fashion accessory, but if I'm being completely honest, you're not the first person to have asked."

I latch onto the sides of the doorway to suspend myself forward, balancing ever so slightly on the balls of my feet.

"I've got that special thing too. I'm not going out on the limb here and saying that I'm a mind reader who knows exactly what it is or represents, but that's never stopped me from making a clever guess." I pause for a moment to collect my words. "Sometimes during a lecture, I'll just flip it between my fingers or rub it for good luck, like the silly little girl that may still live inside me to this very day. We realize that we only wish for this luck, we make this little keepsake, whatever it is; We make it mean something and hold a value or virtue."

He looks at me with narrow eyes, "You are either a future philosopher in the making or just having a moment of verbal diarrhea, spitting out whatever's on your mind."

"Why thank you good sir," I smile and stare down as the pendant that faintly flashes in and out of my vision as I subtly sway back and forth. "This is one of my many charms."

It is a finger nail sized bronzey circle with a cursive engraving that says, "free as a bird".

Without question, he carefully captures it between his thumb and forefinger, bringing his face closer to get a better look.

"The Beatles," is all he says.

I sigh, "Back then - they really were the best of times. Everything was so simply said, song lyrics were so straight forward. Short, sweet, concise and to the point, unlike me."