Saving Grace

3

Grace glided through the streets like a bird in flight, dancing under streetlights and twirling past open bars, where the sounds of laughter and music drifted out into the vibrant city. I, a hundred yards away, felt an incessant fire in my legs and heard the relentless beating of my heart as I ran after her, while the powdery scent of smoke and whisky filled my strangled lungs.

"Wait!" I screamed.

"First thing you should know about me, Richie," she called back, flinging around to smile at me, "I don't wait for anybody."

She spun back around like a spinning top glistening in the January sun, her laugh echoing into the street as I slowed my pace to fall into step with her.

"Could've at least slowed down," I gasped.

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Where are we going?"

"Oh, I can't tell you that."

"Why not?"

She laughed and two headlights winked at us from the end of the street, its vehicle and driver too far immersed in the shadows to make any distinction. Grace lit up when she saw them, jumping up and down, long slender arms waving vigorously while I squinted into the night.

"Who is that?"

She giggled excitedly, hooking her arm around mine and pulling me up the street. I bit my lip, listening as the faint jazz music playing three blocks away become intertwined with the click-clock of Grace's six inch heels. A sinking feeling set in as we approached the mysterious vehicle, a dozen or so sirens silently sounding on the insides of my skull.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I said, pulling away.

Grace paused, looked at me funnily.

"You think I'm a murderer or something?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"If I'd wanted to kill you, I would've let you jump from that bridge."

"Tell me where we're going."

Grace groaned loudly, shoulders sinking and eyes rolling.

"Fine," she said. "I'll give you a hint. It sees every type of person tired and hungry. It helps them defy the laws of nature, and in return, the people let it violate them, lie to them, and eventually, make them sick. Yet, they always return, because the alternatives are far too complicated or time-consuming."

I narrowed my eyes.

"I don't get it."

"You will. Now, come on," she said, leaning forward, hands balling up my jacket in her fists. "We're going to miss the fun."

***

The car, as was typical of Grace, was a polished black stretch limousine, fitted with bright blue lights, a small cocktail bar, and the most expensive champagne I've ever tasted. Inside, Grace leaned back against the authentic crisp leather, one long tanned leg crossed over the other, tilting her glass of back and forth between her bright pink fingernails. She examined me closely as I dumbly processed my exquisite surroundings, her delicate mouth up in a fine smirk.

"So, tell me, Richie," she said, "what was his name – the teacher who failed you?"

"Mr Lee," I replied, studying the miniature liquor bottles sat upon the blue-lit bar. "He can be a bit of a dick, sometimes. And I think he relies on me for answering his questions in class, since no one else knows a thing about physics."