Comatose

New Girls in Town

I stare at the woman once she introduces herself, trying to find something in me to realize or care about what she's just said. "So," I start out, drawing out the syllable as long as it'll go. "You're, like, a secret agent? Double-oh-eight, I'm guessing?"

The lady rolls her eyes. She seems to have a lot of practice doing so. "I'm not the next James Bond, if that's what you're asking. Wrong division."

"Oh, darn. Probably saw that major switch before hiring you on; I've heard that turns some people off."

"Likely, I'm sure." She pretends to smile, but my expression remains cautious and stony. I don't know how to trust someone so shifty and some witty banter isn't going to change that in no time.

"What do you want, Agent Parker?" I poke the blade up my sleeve carefully into my pointer finger. "This isn't really the ideal meeting place for super spies."

She laughs lightly, obviously about as done with me as I am with her. "I'd have to agree. I'm not the one who picked it, though; you and your boyfriend did. Is he coming back anytime soon?" she asks.

I shrug. "He does what he wants." My boyfriend? Please. Dating Rowan is completely off the table. Even if he wasn't so depressing to hang with, I'd never be able to think of him seriously. Too...well, serious, I suppose. And he's not Pan. That's a deal breaker.

"Well, can you get him to come on out?" Agent Parker keeps her cool composure, but I can see her cracking. I take a chance and use the time meant for me to answer her questions to study her pretty features.

Kamryn Parker is pretty. I won't deny that. Shiny black hair, bone-pale skin, presumably wide and expressive eyes underneath her professional reflective sunglasses. How does a woman with her looks come to choose between dentistry and 'investigative studies'?

Momma used to say I was pretty, just the prettiest girl, always prettier than anyone else in the room--

Whoa. Where did that come from? I blink a couple times in quick succession, trying to figure out where my thoughts have gone. Momma? Was that my mother's voice in my head, the one telling little girl me how gorgeous I looked? No way. I can't even remember my mother's name, much less the color of lipstick she liked best with her skin.

Am I remembering something important? I wonder.

Probably not. It's likely just a mind vacation from looking at Agent Parker too hard. I blink hard again, then glance back at the woman's face. "How old are you?" I ask abruptly.

She doesn't hesitate. "Twenty-seven last fall. You okay, kid?"

My head snaps into perfect-posture surprise. "What?"

"I just asked if you're feeling alright. You kind of spaced out for a second."

"Oh." I did do that, then. At least now I know I'm not time-traveling through my lost memories. "Right. I'm fine, thanks. Just...cemetery chills, I guess."

The made-up excuse isn't very strong, but she doesn't question it. "I know what you mean. Not that hanging out with the deceased is creepy, but it can get a little lonesome." She glances back behind her briefly before adding "Why don't you call your boyfriend back out and we can head across the street for a better place to chat? My partner is in the van if you don't want to walk."

I take a cautious step back, one hand on the headstone behind me. "Pretty sure my mother warned me about joining strangers for brunch in their security vans."

"And yet, I'm sure she also warned you about running away to join delinquents in their pretend gangs." Kamryn Parker looks at me, hard. "Rules don't seem to stick very close to you, Miss Jane. Do they?"