Brink of Madness

Table For Three

Harleen Quinzel walked with her best friend Sloanne to the Gotham Sweet Treats Bakery.

"I can't believe school is starting next week," Sloanne groaned.

"Yeah, but at least we get to room together again," Harleen nudged her, "Spending the summer in Brooklyn with my dad was a nightmare."

"True," Sloanne smiled back, "Plus we're graduating this year."

"Yeah, I can't wait to see all the trashy freshmen boys that hit on you," Harleen sarcastically smirked.

"Hey it's college. They can't help their hormones," Sloanne snickered back. The bell above their heads chimed as they walked into the bakery.

"It smells like Heaven in here," Harleen smiled.

"Damn, its packed in here," Sloanne complained, noticing that most of the tables were taken up.

"There's a little table with four chairs over there," Harleen pointed towards the corner of the bakery.

"Perfect. I'll stand in line and order our coffee cakes."

"Sounds good," Harleen replied and sat down by herself. She pulled out her textbooks from her bag as she waited for Sloanne.

"Can I sit here?"

Harleen looked up to see a man standing across from her. He had dirty blonde hair and a smile connected by dimples. His brown green eyes put her in a trance. "Sure," she stuttered and offered him the chair across from her.

"You sure do have a lot of books there," he smiled as he pointed towards her stack of textbooks.

"I'm studying psychology at Gotham City University," she replied.

"So you're smart and pretty," he said sincerely. Harleen's cheeks immediately turned red.

"I'm Andrew by the way," he smiled.

"Harleen," she smiled back.

"Hey wait, are you Harleen Quinzel?" he asked.

"Yeah, how'd you know that?" she questioned.

"I read an article in the paper a couple weeks ago about a theory you had on helping schizophrenic patients," he said, "it was really interesting."

"Why thank you. I plan on testing it out after I graduate," she beamed.

"While I thought it was interesting, I'm not sure if it would work," he added.

"What do you mean?" she said defensively.

"Well, some mentally ill patients are defensive about their home life."

"Yes, but if they have one person to focus on," she started to say.

"Even if they did, how do you know that they aren't going to lie to you? Some patients are clever enough to make up their own fantasies," he stated.

"Well I'll prove you wrong," she snuffed.

"I hope you do," he grinned.

"Hey Harleen, who's your friend?" Sloanne asked as she handed Harleen her pastry. Sloanne had a sly smile on her face.

"His name is Andrew, and he is leaving now," Harleen smirked. He smiled back. He found her spunk attractive, it's something you wouldn't expect from a shy girl like Harleen.

"Ok I'm going. But could you at least write down your number?" he stared her straight in the eyes. She kept her gaze locked with his for a couple of seconds. She sensed something different about him... something exciting.

"Harley, answer him!" Sloanne snapped at her.

"Oh right. Let me find a piece of paper," she started to fiddle through her bag. Her hands found a small card. She pulled it out and realized it was a Joker card that had fallen out of her deck of cards that she kept with her.

"Is Harley you're nickname?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah," she blushed and scribbled her number on the Joker card.

"I like it. It suits you better than Harleen," he smiled.

"Thanks," she gave him a small smile and handed him the card. He took it and looked it over.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Harley. Nice meeting you too," he said waving to Sloanne. Then he disappeared from the bakery.

"Dang Harley, where did he come from?" Sloanne gasped, "He has the face of an angel."

"I don't know," she responded, still reminiscing in the way he had said her name.