Chapter 4

Jono woke up early that morning, for no reason at all. His eyes traveled around the mess of a basement he called home. He rolled off the couch and pulled a black shirt on. Then he pulled a slightly dirty pair of black pants from a pile of clothes on the floor. They would do.

As he completed his look with the ever-present leather jacket, Jono thought he heard something on the stairs. Quickly dismissing it as the foundation settling, he began the search for a decent pair of shoes. He decided to go with an old pair of army boots when he heard a voice behind him. “Jono, are you down here?”

Jono’s head snapped up and banged against his coffee table (which was actually three wooden boards stretched across a pair of cement blocks). He muttered a string of curses as he fell to the floor, rubbing the spot on his head. The next thing he knew, Clarice was standing over him, a concerned look on her face. “Are you okay?” *I can think of better ways to start the day.* Then he looked up at her. *What are you doing down here, luv?*

She shrugged. “I felt like talking to somebody, and Paige already left for her morning jog. You’re the only one that gets up this early.” Jono finally stood up. *What did you want to talk about, gel?* “Well...it’s about Angelo,” Clarice said slowly. *Had a row with him, did you?* Jono asked. Clarice blinked. “If that means we had a disagreement, then yes.” She sighed and sat down on the couch. “I just don’t know him anymore. You two seem to get along well, so I was hoping you could help me.”

Jono would’ve smiled, if he still had a mouth. First Angelo came to him for advice, and now Clarice. Of course, his advice hadn’t helped Angelo much. Maybe she’d be better off talking to someone else. But as Jono looked into those innocent, childish eyes, he decided that he’d do his best. *What is it you want to know, Clarice?* She smiled slightly. “What can you tell me about Torres?” *Not much,* Jono said sadly. *She and Angelo used to be real close, until he faked his death and left South Central LA. The one time we did run into her, she held the whole team hostage, and was going to turn us over to Operation: Zero Tolerance.*

Clarice shivered at the memory of the Sentinels. They reminded her all too much of the Phalanx. “So what happened?” Jono thought for a moment. *Well, Torres didn’t know the Sentinels were built to kill all mutants. She found out when they tried to kill her, too. In the end, she helped us escape, but as far was we know, she still wants Angelo dead.* “And he still loves her?” Clarice asked. *Not gonna be much help there, Sunshine,* Jono replied, shrugging. *Angelo’s a private person. You’d have to ask him yourself.*

Angelo was strumming the guitar he’d borrowed from Jono when he heard a knock on the door. He really didn’t feel like talking to anyone. “Go away; I’m busy here.” The door opened anyway. Paige’s head appeared in the doorway. “This is more important than torturing the rest of us with that thing,” she said, closing the door behind her. Angelo glared at her. “So I need a little practice.” The smirk on Paige’s face told him otherwise.

“What do you want, chica?” he asked. “I want to know what you’re going to do about Clarice.” He shrugged. “What about her? I told her the truth.” Paige frowned. “Angelo Espinosa, don’t you know she’s in love with you?!” “Sure, I know that,” he replied calmly. “I also know that I’m not in love with her. What do you want me to do, lie to her? I’m already living a major lie, Paige. I’m not going to live another just because you want Clarice to feel better.”

Paige crossed her arms. “So you’re just going to let her stay depressed? She’s only a child, Angelo. She’s never been in love before. That also means she’s never been rejected, until you came along. How do you think she feels now?” Angelo was quickly getting tired of Paige’s attitude. “Look, I tried to let her down easy, and it didn’t work. I’ve done my part. So how is it my fault that she hates me now?” “Did you even try to go after her when she ran out? Have you even talked to her since you broke her heart?!” Paige’s voice had gone to something of a high screech. That was all Angelo could stand.

“Damn it, Paige! Stop trying to play matchmaker between us!” Angelo threw the guitar against the wall, ignoring the terrible clanging sound it made. “You think I wanted to hurt my best friend?! You think I wanted her to hate me?! Do you?!” Paige fell silent. “Don’t you get it?!” he shouted. “That’s why I never wanted to get involved with her like that! Because I knew this would happen, and I love her too much! But now that she won’t even look at me, who do you think I blame?!”

Angelo took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. It didn’t work. Sighing in frustration, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Then he realized that it was his room. He should’ve made her leave. He growled in anger and ran down the steps to the front door. He’d just made it outside when a raindrop splashed on his forehead. Angelo looked up as another splashed into his eye. “Perfect!” he screamed. Within seconds, he was soaked. But for the first time in his life, he didn’t care anymore.

Artie and Leech stared at Clarice. She’d been in their treehouse since last night, and made no signs of leaving anytime soon. Leech walked over to her. “Lady is sad?” Clarice nodded, rubbing Leech’s little head. “Lady has nice smile. Lady should be happy.” Clarice smiled a bit. “Thanks, Leech.” She kissed his forehead and left the treehouse. A smiley face appeared over Artie’s head. “Leech is good,” his friend agreed.

As Clarice stepped to the ground, it begin to rain. With the clothing she was wearing, she’d probably catch her death of cold. Not that it mattered much anymore. Maybe Angelo would feel sorry for her. Probably not, though. She sighed and walked out into the rain. The water was cool and refreshing against her tired skin. Ev had always teased her about being a sprite in disguise. She wondered what he would do if she stripped off her tunic and went skipping through the rain.

She was about thirty feet away from the front door when she saw him. Angelo. He was standing just beyond the front step, letting the ran drench him. Clarice gasped in surprise. She couldn’t face him. Not now. Not yet. In a flash of violet light, she disappeared just as he screamed her name.

Angelo closed his eyes and turned his face upward, letting the water run down his face. His T-shirt was soaked through, and his black pants were soon to follow. He suddenly sneezed, probably the beginnings of a cold. Angelo wiped his nose and looked around, wondering if anyone had been spying on him. Amazingly enough, if he squinted, he could see something (or someone) behind the bushes on the right side of the school.

It took him a few seconds to recognize a light green tunic. It was now dark green, thanks to the rain. “Clarice,” Angelo whispered hoarsely. She didn’t hear him, of course. But then, even if she had, she’d only run away. He repeated her name, over and over, until he was sure he could say it out loud. The volume of his voice begin to rise, trying to declare itself independent of the pounding rain. Soon he found himself screaming her name, but to no avail. She had disappeared. Angelo instantly felt an emptiness in his heart. He’d lost his best friend again. But as he blinked, the rain getting into his eyes, he knew exactly where she would go.