Friday, February 8

My hand quivered as I battled the steps upstairs. The mocha I held on both hands were boiling, blistering my palms.

It became our daily routine to meet up on the top rooftop with his share of mocha. Even if it had been nearly two weeks, I still can't get over my fear of heights. He was probably a sadist. He seemed to enjoy seeing me tremble in fear.

Brett, as usual, sat on the edge, crossing his legs. Today he wore glasses and even in them, he was undeniably attractive, god what am I saying, did I just call him attractive?

"You're a minute late,” he says patting the space beside him, if that was a gesture of reassuring comfort, it didn't seem comfortable to me. “Please, have a seat."

I hesitated and decided to stand there.

"I'll just stand."

"Why,” he eyed the pair of cups in my hands, “are you intimidated?"

"Yes." I lied, I'm not once intimidated by him... okay so maybe I still am, but not as intimidated as I am with the view down there, like I said I'm scared of heights and if I dare try to sit there I think I'll collapse just thinking about how high above we were.

"Sit here right now." He demanded, like a master scolding a dog,

"I don't want to."

"If you don't I'll push you down." Oh god no, just no.

I took a step forward, then another, each step getting heavier and thinner as they made their way closer to the edge.

Impatient as he was, he caught my wrist. Should have taken up my Uncle Markus’s offer to teach me taekwondo, maybe it’ll help improve my reflexes. Before I knew it, he pulled me down against him, or should I say on his lap. He brushes my hair off my face, my whole body trembling as I ironically faced the scene before me, just seeing how tiny the people were below us made me nauseous.

"Oh come on, I didn't even lay a finger on you yet and you're already shaking!” He leaned it, which didn’t help me feel any better, “don't tell me you're a virgin."

"Of course I am, isn't it obvious?" I wept, still trembling. "And I'm not trembling because of you, I'm trembling because -" I trailed off,

"Don't tell me you're afraid of heights..." bingo I nodded through his clothing, and suddenly he leans forward bringing me with him, I yelled, screaming my heart out, I let out too much I couldn't imagine how I sounded like, maybe a dying whale?

He was lucky it was still early in the morning and there were barely any people here when I arrived, but one thing's for sure if there were people who could hear me I doubt they could see us from there moreover care whoever it was screaming at all. Yup, I knew there's a reason they built rooftops.

"See, it isn't that bad!" He chuckled, and I could tell he was having a blast humoring my sheer horror.

"Brett let me down!" I shrieked lightly shoving him trying to withstand his hold.

"Are you sure with that?" he says, momentarily removing his grip on me. My heart stopped, and for a moment there, I thought I was going to fall, thought I was going to die.

I braced myself. Sayonara Jason, mum…

Tears streamed down my eyes. The next moment he caught me, pulling me against his chest, he rubbed my hair down reassuringly, just like the time I found out he was part of the mafia.

He whispered something; I didn’t know what it was though, as I was too busy bawling my eyes out.

Through the school’s telecom, I hear my name called out by a female voice I couldn't recognize who it belonged to. The Dean? That snobby receptionist lady at the Office of Admissions & Records?

"Who would call my name at this time of the day?" I say squirming out of his hold and brushing the soaking tears off my face, man this guy's been making me cry twice in a row.

"I don't know maybe they found out your secret."

"At least I can get away from you."

"Do you really wanna die?"

"Uhm let me guess, I value my life, but seeing you just makes me feel like I wanna see my grave early!" I yelped and started to run off. I didn't even bother to look back to known Brett's face if not already erupting in fury

"This girl, just wait until you get back I'm so gonna...." I didn't let him finish his voice was muffled by my slamming of the door shut. Thank god for that.

In the broadcast room, a beautiful woman in her twenties pulls me down to sit on one of those high-backed, leather swivel chairs.

It looked like any recording studios, a mic hanging at eye… or should I say mouth level, people wearing headsets, a panel with all these buttons and sliders.

"I finally got to meet you, Paige Levine..." her chiming tone of voice, reminded me much to my shock of Brett as she flashes me an omniscient grin.

Looking around dumbly I pointed as an indicator to myself, "Should I be happy?"

She nods her head "I've heard so much about you, but I guess we hadn't met formally, anyway sorry for calling you out of the blue..."

"Actually it was a lifesaver... Uhm what did you say your name was?"

"Right..." she held out her longer model like hands "Brianna Boyce I'm your senior!"

"No way really? But I never heard of you..." I flushed. Who am I kidding? I don’t even know anybody.

"Enough about me..." the woman, Brianna, says brushing me off.

If she was a Boyce? Could she be related to Brett? Was she just as psychotic as he was? Does she know about the mafia business too?

Her eyes sparkle as they stared at me, this time she closed in, placing one hand on top of my left breast, awkward...

"Uhm you're invading my personal space..." I say rather stupidly.

"Getting a good look at you, you really are cute... I see why my cousin likes you..."

Cousin. Are we talking about a distant cousin, third cousin or?

"You got it wrong, I don't like him, and I don't have anything to do with him!"

I denied and now that I notice it, she has a habit of placing a hand on her mouth as if she were always in that much of a defying shock.

"Really? Well then, would you wanna go out with me?" that caught me off guard, was she insane?

"You're joking right?" I snickered passing her a rueful smirk; her intense gaze didn't say otherwise, she looked at me deadpan.

"I'm not," she says, point-blank.

"You people are crazy" my hands flailed around my sides, steam exhilarating like a bull exits my nose.

Brianna giggled with a bubbly snort. She was like a child high on chocolates.

As she inched closer, I suddenly found myself pinned down. Struggling to get my wimpy limbs free I wondered if they were just naturally strong or I needed to work out more. Could she also be in a Mafia? Whatever it was I didn't want to know, I must have been a shrink in my past life to attract all these nutcases.

Was this it? Is this how it ends? Was I being taken advantage of by another Boyce?

"Get your paws off her Brian."

I blinked. Brian? Wasn't it Brianna?

Brianna sighs and her hoarse voice sent shockwaves down my spine

"How did you know it was me?" she says.

"It doesn't take Einstein to figure it out, nitwit. And well for starters what you're wearing isn't cute at all and secondly" He jerked a thumb at me, "no one would look for this kid."

"Did you just call me kid?"

He smirked at that "what you want me to call you a chick?"

"That's not what I meant!"

"So you want me to call you my girl,” he lets out a loud snort. What a jerk. “In your dreams!"

"I won't even dare go out with you!" I shot back balling my hands into a fist, restraining the urge to punch him (but as it turns out I couldn’t even harm a mere fly, but he doesn’t need to know that).

Moving on.

Brianna bursts into uncontrollable laughs, was she humoring us?

"You two are so cute..." she giggled, clenching her belly as if she were in pain, wiping the tears forming in the corner of her eyes.

"What are you saying you stupid cross-dressing bastard?"

"Not in front of the kid!"

There they go again with the word kid, just because I'm short is that it? And what’s so bad about crossdressing? I think she looks cute if she wasn’t touching me at all the wrong places...

My phone rang, an unknown number flashing persistently on the screen.

Should I pick it up?

I debated with myself. What if it was mum? What if she got into an accident and some stranger was contacting me at the scene of the crime because I was on speed dial?

Swallowing the sudden lump in my throat, I finally hit accept.

A familiar humming voice came chirping in the other end. It was a little hazy but I remembered knowing I've heard it somewhere... somehow not too long ago,

"Hello is this Paige Levine's cell?"

"Yes, this is her..." I mused politely; please don’t be something about my mother.

"You sound pretty sweet...” The man on the other line utters.

“I'm Brett's father."

My jaw nearly dropped, I stared at the phone. Seriously, how do they even get my number?

"Really?" my eyes darted between the pair in front of me both of which were exchanging confused glances.

"Is Bri-." Mr. Boyce continued.

"Yes. She's here." I cut in, resting my gaze on the fair-haired brunette. I nodded as the beauty pointed to herself.

"So you must have heard all about our little secret..." he cooed, somehow I had a bittersweet feeling about this.

"Bad timing I guess...” he must have been drumming his fingers on something. He seemed like the type to be kicking his feet up the table and taking a whiff of cigar.

“Don't worry your secrets safe with me."

"Such an honest kid,” he must have been shifting in his seat because his weight seemed to have crunched against his undoubtedly, leather chair.

“I bet he's bullying you right?"

I wouldn't label it at that...

"That kid, I always told him to be nice...” he rambles on a few tsk thrown here and there.

I could just imagine him pressing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“It just can't sink in that dense little brain of his..."

"Couldn’t agree more,” I quipped, our eyes suddenly meeting. He scowls, crossing his arms in front of him.

"By now he probably showed his true colors. That kid never really took on my traits you know. Maybe it was his mother's..."

Ha! Note to self, aggression runs in his mother’s bloodline.

"I don't know why you’re telling me about this though..." I interrupted, hoping I didn't sound rude. It’s one thing the mafia prince got me on a leash for finding out, but what about the boss?

Was he going to have be whacked? Throw my body in a river?

No that will be too obvious. They may have to do some spring-cleaning. Maybe stuff me in a trunk and ship me to a pit.

"Still there?"

"Uh, yeah!" I swallowed. I was probably gaping as imagined all the possible scenarios they had in stored in disposing of body.

"This is just between you and me," he began, for once I was glad my phone wasn't on speaker mode. "I have a spy there... He told me that you'd be of help. He is busy right now so it looks like I have to pass the mission to you..."

He was drumming again. Was he having second thoughts, thinking it's a stupid idea to get a foolish girl to do the job?

"But..." I mused, come on words, come at me. Give me a reason to refuse.

Nothing.

"Can I ask you something?" he says and there was eagerness in the tone, one without hesitation. Maybe he was desperate.

"Ever heard of the saying people change?"

"Yes?"

"Good I knew I can count on you." the old man (well I don't know for sure if he's a really old man. Maybe he's around forty-something) titters over the phone "can I ask you something?"

I swallowed yet again. "Yeah?"

"Do you know self-defense?"