The boys darted out into the street, glancing frantically from side to side as they scrambled to avoid becoming a casualty in the chaos of taxis and motorbikes. Across the way, another member of their group wove quickly through the crowd of locals, his open jacket blaringly white in the boiling Sri Lankan sun. They were trying to catch up with him to see if he had discovered anything as to the whereabouts of their missing friend.

The bazaar was bustling. Street vendors crowded underneath the canopies and spilled out into the busy streets, baskets nearly overflowing with vegetables and spices and other exotic, somehow edible things. Remnants of food were trampled under countless pairs of dirty sandals. Small taxi cabs plowed their way through at an illegal speed, nearly hitting pedestrians or running over their feet. Neither party, however, seemed fazed by it as if it were an everyday occurrence. But then it likely was, the boys realized, as they witnessed the organized chaos around them. They were definitely far away from home.

They caught up with their friend across the street and the four boys huddled close together, afraid to let the crowd separate them any further.

"Did you find anything?" one said to John, who wore the white jacket. He stood taller over his comrades.

"Nothing," he replied. "He could be anywhere in this mess."

"Hey," another said, pointing across the way towards a small boy. He was standing against a wall, dressed only in dirty, cream-colored trousers. His feet and chest were bare, and his hair was tousled. "He looks familiar. I swear I've seen him hanging around. Maybe he knows."

He took off to approach the boy, John following close behind. The urchin's eyes grew big and he shrunk against the wall as they towered over him. John whipped out a Polaroid, held it before the boy's face and then pointed at it.

"Have you seen this man?" he said, even though he knew it was unlikely the boy understood any English.

The urchin shook his head frantically as he gaped back and forth between the two older boys.

"You haven't seen this man?" he asked again emphatically.

"No," he finally spoke, still shaking his head. "No, sir."

----------

I was enchanted when I first saw her. My breath hung up in my lungs, the stagnant air of the room catching hold of me. But I hardly noticed, for the hypnotism in her eyes, and in the next second, my breathing deepened with a shot of adrenaline. Little beads of sweat formed along my lip and brow, and my heart began to pound out of my chest.

It was a fleeting moment and then she averted her eyes. I wasn't one to find myself so easily entranced by a woman's presence and yet, she had power over me already.

I was with the lads traveling through Sri Lanka. We had just arrived that very day and settled into the New Oriental Hotel in Galle, changed our clothes and ventured down to the lobby to mingle with the other guests. In a matter of minutes, drinks were in our hands and disorientation was sneaking into our heads.

The Zaal room was rather large, white walls lined with dark, wooden furniture. Settees, wicker chairs and coffee tables were scattered about accompanied by random kinds of palmy tropical plants placed in large ceramic pots. The bar was a smaller section of the room but it was also the busiest. I could only imagine the stories once told above its extravagant mahogany countertop.

We claimed a table and gathered around for relaxing and taking in the view, but my thoughts still lingered on the girl. She was nowhere to be seen now, so I was left with only the image of her gaze. Slowly, I began to withdraw into myself, drowning out the noise of my surroundings and dwelling on my musings--the way I still felt after we had made eye contact, her piercing eyes lined in kohl that swooped out into an elegant cat eye. Either it was some kind of spell or it was the alcohol.

"Simon? Are you listening to me?"

The voice was sudden and harsh, breaking through the din of the room like a crash of lightning. The lobby had shrunken with the arrival of guests--something I had not noticed since zoning out. I turned away from the crowd to meet my friend's face, gazing at me with furrowed brows heavy with concern.

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled, resting my elbow on the table and raising my nearly empty glass to my lips.

"You don't look so good," he replied.

"I feel fine."

But the daze in my head told me otherwise. My eyelids were heavy and my vision blurred. What do they put in this stuff? I squinted at the contents of my glass briefly before blinking.

"I'm taking you to your room," John added.

An irritated but exhausted groan escaped my lips as I ran my hand down my face. The intrusion of his voice was starting to get on my nerves. If only he would just leave me alone with my drink and my thoughts.

"Come on," he said, lifting me up by my arm. "You need some rest."

He escorted me quickly out of the lobby and into the empty hallway, lined with louvered doors. We had walked halfway down to where our suites resided when I gained enough strength to protest.

"John, I said I'm fine." I pushed him away but only fell weakly against the wall in my attempt.

"You don't seem like it. What's happened to you?"

I shook my head.

"I know what you look like when you're drunk, Simon, but you're not acting like yourself."

"Just let me be," I said sharply, rolling against the wall towards my door. Feeling slightly nauseated, I began to regret my harsh tone. "I'm sorry. I just need to get some sleep, I guess. I'll be alright. Go ahead and go back to the bar."

"You sure?"

I nodded, closing my eyes. I felt an overwhelming exhaustion and wanted nothing more than to be alone. Once John left my side, I found the door handle and entered my darkened room. The moonlight filtered in softly through the sheer curtains flowing lightly in the breeze from the open window, providing barely enough illumination for me to find my bed. I kicked off my shoes and climbed in, still fully clothed in my suit. I loosened my tie as I stared at the ceiling. The room began to spin sporadically and I closed my eyes, though I knew that would do nothing to help. I turned my face to the door, the yellow light streaming through the slats giving me something to keep my vision steady. It must have been the alcohol. I wasn't used to it--that's all. I was going to be fine in the morning. Slowly, I allowed myself to relax and my eyes grew heavy, nearly missing the shadow passing by outside my door.

----------

I was incredibly hungry. It was high noon the following day when I stepped inside the Pagoda Tea Room. Smoke rose to the tops of large pillars in the middle of the room, creating a cloud above the heads of patrons. It was crowded, as every place seemed to be in Colombo, with people of all walks of life packed around the tables--men dressed in white wide-brimmed hats and much younger ladies on their arms, men with turbans wrapped around their heads and a hookah joint to their mouths, and traveling men in keffiyehs heartily eating a meal. I took the empty table next to them and quickly, a large menu was held in front of my face. I chose the first thing my eyes settled upon and pointed, receiving a white beaming smile from the waiter and a short bow before he whisked away.

Over in the corner, a man sat cross-legged in front of a low basket, waving the lid over the top and playing a flute-like instrument. A cobra rose slowly from within by the charmer's coaxing, swaying from side to side. I watched the spectacle for a few moments until it seemed like the music held me in a trance as well. My hangover was nearly gone, but like the snake, it seemed as if something else was still clouding my head. My insides turned, an uneasiness in my gut. I felt sensitive to my surroundings, the din of a large, packed room once again being nearly impossible to handle. Though the room was dark, I kept my sunglasses on in an attempt to block out the menagerie around me.

Only a few minutes had passed before the waiter returned with a plate of food, again bowing enthusiastically with his hand extended. I placed some crumpled money in his palm and then he disappeared. The smell of the food reached my nose as I gazed down at my plate, awakening my stomach even more. I had never felt so hungry in my life.

But then something bumped into my table. I peered from underneath the brim of my fedora to be met with the blank face of a man. He stood there, a small monkey perched on his arm, as if waiting for permission to perform his tricks. I waited for him to move, but it seemed he had grown so tired of his gimmick that now he only asked for the money. Tilting back my fedora, I leaned forward and propped an elbow up on the table. I pointed at him and motioned with my thumb for him to leave but he didn't budge. I shooed him away again more emphatically, irritation seeping through as I told him to go away. Finally, he picked up his things and walked to the table behind me.

I looked down at my plate but now my appetite had disappeared. It made no sense, as I had eaten only a few morsels of food the day before. But I couldn't eat, not when I was in pain. What had been a slow, dull ache was now growing into an undeniably sharp pain in my skull. I removed my sunglasses and dropped them on the tablecloth, sweat beading across my forehead and upper lip. The smoke filled my lungs and my throat became scratchy from its abrasion--an unfamiliar kind of smell but the secondhand effects were almost irresistible. I had been trying to quit smoking but it was all too much for me--I wanted so desperately to snatch up a hookah and take just a single puff.

I watched the smokers at the next table, staring as the desire grew stronger. I needed something--anything--to calm this terrible hunger. But what did I want? As each second passed, my anger brewed inside of me like a volcano. Finally, I had had enough. As if outside of my body and under some other control, I jumped up and lifted the table. It flipped over, the tableware and food spilling and crashing everywhere. The sound of shattering ceramic filled the air and the room fell silent as all eyes landed on me.

I staggered away, my foot tripping on an upended table leg as I pushed my way out of the cafe. My head was dizzy as I wandered out into the bazaar and the chaos around me only made my head spin faster. I grew frantic to find a way out. I pushed forward through the crowd, stampeding past the vendor displays. People cowered when they saw me coming, falling into baskets or bumping into each other to make way in the narrow pathway. But I was like an animal on a scent, hungry for something and willing to do anything to find it.

I emerged into an open space, the marketplace roof no longer overhead. However, the crowd had only grown bigger. I felt lost as people crossed in front of me going every which way. Carts whisked on by, nearly running over my feet as I dodged in between their paths. I had to find a way out. I had to find her.

Her.

A face flashed in my mind--those piercing eyes I had been so entranced by. But this time, the image in my head was different. She looked like a warrior ready for battle. Her face had been painted with lines of yellow, accentuating her dark skin. I knew who I needed to find. She could have been hiding anywhere but as if through an animalistic instinct, I knew I was close behind.

----------

The canoe pushed steadily down the brown river, the oar behind me creating a light splash every time it cut through the water. I had already ditched my jacket and rolled my trousers up, clinging my feet to the sides of the roughly carved wood as the water dared to soak my clothes.

I had found my way to the outskirts of the city and into the rural jungle. The humidity had grown stronger and the air was thick with bugs when I approached the large river. I stumbled upon a man with a canoe and knowing my travels would be faster along the water, I ran to him and gestured to the canoe. When I made a paddling motion with my hands, he shook his head and began to turn away. But I stopped him and pulled the remaining crumpled money from my pocket. He stared at it for a beat before inviting me to climb aboard.

Now we were gliding along, traveling for quite some time up the river. I heard the man huffing as he grew tired but I urged him on, leaning forward as I sat on the front of the vessel. He pushed further with all his might, likely the regrets of accepting my offer seeping in as he didn't know what we searched for. But I kept my eye on the shoreline, scanning for any little sign of movement.

We were getting close.

Then suddenly, my scent was on a trail. I shouted for the man to stop rowing and immediately, he struck his oar into the riverbed to stop the canoe. I jumped off and splashed chest-deep into the water. Leaving the man to lean wearily against his paddle, I waded up to the shore and stumbled into the thick vegetation lining the river's edge. I stood on my feet and peered into the trees. The scent had grown stronger. I was going to find her.

I staggered forward through the marsh until it transformed into dry land, brushing back heavy branches as I made my way. The sun was beating down hot and the cicadas in the trees chirped loudly in one continuous droning din. It quickly grew deafening until it was the only sound I could hear, save for my feet shuffling in the dead leaves on the jungle floor.

The cloudiness in my head returned, sweat now soaking my hair and dripping down my forehead. I wiped it away from my eyes only to mix it with the dirt that had gathered on my hands from my trek through the river marsh. My vision blurred and my breathing grew heavy as I rushed through the jungle as quickly as possible. I was becoming disoriented but I couldn't stop. I had to find her.

Suddenly, I was pulled by the side and lurched back as my arm had been caught. Immediately, I thought it was her, snagging me in her claws in the heat of our chase. But it was just a branch, my shirt now ripped down the sleeve from the sharp entanglement of its thorns. Scratches cut deep enough to make my skin bleed. I bundled up the remains of my sleeve and held the soft linen against my wound. It stung as sweat beaded up around the injury but nevertheless, I pushed on.

It seemed like I was making my way up a climb to higher ground, and I followed the uphill slope for what felt like hours. My surroundings were blurring together and I didn't know in which direction I was headed. The sun was hardly a guide, as it poured through the thick trees in broken fragments of light. But then I stumbled upon something new. A sway bridge, constructed of brittle wooden planks and splintering rope railing, suddenly emerged from the brush. It had been overgrown, vines twisting around it like it belonged to an ancient world. But telling by its condition, it was hard to imagine anyone still used it.

I approached the entrance of the bridge and nudged against the first post leaning over the cliffside. The ground had eroded over the years and the posts moved more freely than I liked. I began to step back but the scent in the air blew gently across my face. It was like a sweetness I had never smelled before and I was going to do anything to get my hands on it.

Hesitantly, though determinedly, I took my first step. The boards held my weight better than I expected. I peered below, the large gaps permitting a good view of the river beneath me. The river. What river was this? Had I traveled so far that I had stumbled upon a new river or was it the same one I had canoed down earlier? Had I just made a big circle? The thought disheartened me but I pushed forward nevertheless.

The boards wobbled freely under my feet and the rope squeaked in agony from its first movement in likely many years. The bridge became less reliable as I went on but I was now halfway across and turning around was not an option. The sun had baked the rope in the middle of the bridge, as it now beat down on me from the clearing in the tree canopy above. It glared in my eyes, blinding my vision from the hours I had spent in the shadows of the jungle floor. But I couldn't linger if I wanted to find myself on sure footing again. Gathering my waning courage, motivated only by my strong desire to find this girl, I moved forward--until there was snap.

Instantly, nearly before I could realize what was happening, the board under my foot crumbled and broke free with my foot following close behind. I grasped for the handrails, the rope burning in my palms as I clung desperately. My leg had fallen through the opening, leaving me to dangle high above the shallow water as the board splashed below. Telling by the rocks jutting out from the riverbed, falling would have likely caused injury, if not a broken leg.

My heart raced as I froze, not daring to move another muscle. But I had to climb my way out. I grimaced as I pulled myself up, the remaining strands of rope digging deeper into the cuts of my sweaty hands. Slowly, I lifted my leg back up onto the bridge before clambering to my feet and dashing over the last remaining steps. I staggered forward and collapsed onto solid ground as I reached the other side, panting and closing my eyes in relief. I now felt weary but I needed to press on.

I stood up and moved forward, following whichever direction my feet took me. I went into the depths of the jungle again, the sound of the river fading behind me. I covered a good amount of distance and time before finding myself on another landing. Down below was a riverbed and the slow rushing of a shallow, cascading waterfall. Had I reached another curve in the river? I only hoped. An introspective moment flashed in my mind, as I realized my attempts to find my target were becoming vain. I was losing myself in the process but my desire was too strong to care.

Whatever hill I had been climbing was now reaching its descension, and wherever my feet--or more accurately, the scent--was taking me, I kept drawing to the water. I wondered if that was the secret to my hunt. I decided to embrace my instinct and began to clamber down into the water. It was cool and refreshing, washing away the mugginess from the jungle that had clung to my skin.

But then I heard a snap. The trees across the water shivered. I crouched behind the brush, my few moments of relaxation vanishing as fear took its place. Suddenly, I felt like the prey. I waited for several minutes as the movement drew closer to the river, until finally, emerging from its cover was an elephant. Its trunk appeared first and then his giant tusks. He stepped down into the riverbed with ease and began to drink, followed closely by a few of his comrades.

Sensing their calm demeanor, I emerged from the brush as well and descended cautiously into the water to gain a closer look. I stood for a moment and watched, a clearness coming into my head as I gazed upon the peacefulness of the elephants. They didn't seem to care about my presence as if they knew full well their size and strength and didn't need to fear anything in the exotic world around them. They were the true kings of the jungle, even respected by the people who inhabited the land. I recalled the elephants I had seen while still in the city, decorated in colorful saddle cloth and jewelry.

Oh, but the city. It seemed so far away. Glancing around my surroundings, it was impossible for me to guess which part of Sri Lanka I now found myself in. It was just me and the jungle and everything living and surviving inside it. This realization awakened my senses and the thrill of my chase. I was on a hunt and there was no one to stop me. I was going to do whatever it took to find her.

----------

Nightfall arrived and the locals were gathering together in the public squares. Even in the most rural and exotic places, there was a nightlife, which the boys quickly discovered. They had decided to take a rest from their search, knowing it would do them little good to search for Simon in the dark of night in an unfamiliar land. It was best for them all to stick together. They couldn't risk losing another.

John, Nick and Roger stood people-watching, leaning against a wall on the outer edge of the square--the square being merely an open space in the dirt street occupied for socializing. It was a little further away from the bigger side of town, where the roads were paved and more vehicles and people carried about. Here, the boys had found themselves reaching the outskirts of the city. The roads had turned into dirt and the buildings smaller and shabbier.

However, despite the surroundings, the people were still something to behold. A good sized crowd had gathered, varying ages grouped together under the canopies and around the fire pits. A small boy scurried around, chasing after a tire and rolling it down the lane as a game. But it was the women that caught the boys' attention, their eyes trailing closely behind the long, slender legs that sauntered by. Women seemed to be roving about everywhere--too much for such an exotic location. And they were exceptionally beautiful.

Andy approached Nick, auburn drink in hand and a big smile on his face. "Wow, these women are something."

"They move like jungle cats," Nick responded slowly, his face void of emotion save for a faint hint of delight.

Suddenly, the boy with the tire emerged from behind them, a wild look in his eyes. "You know not what you speak."

"What do you mean?"

"Your words--there is truth. She is after your friends as well."

He pointed across the way, and Nick and Andy followed his gaze. Roger sat close to the flaming fire pit, eyes focused on a woman. And not far away was John, lips locked with another. She put her hand around his neck and pulled him closer. Nick and Andy exchanged glances, mirroring each other's concern. It wasn't unusual for John to get friendly with the local women or for any of them to venture away for a while at night but something didn't feel right.

They turned back to the boy but he had vanished from their side.

"Do you get the feeling that boy keeps hanging around us?" Andy said.

"Yes, I noticed the same thing," Nick said. "He knows something."

----------

I gazed up at the white, hazy sky. I was lying down and in my waking, realized how much my back ached. I didn't know how long I had slept on the rock but telling by how parched my throat was, it had to have been all night.

I turned my head to gaze around at the open space surrounding me. I was no longer inside the depths of the jungle but was now in a clearing of watering holes and low, green vegetation. Trees lined the edge, reminding me of my chase.

But I couldn't move. I was exhausted and felt every ounce of my being was spent. I couldn't bring myself to get up and drink, as all the other animals were doing nearby.

Suddenly, I heard dull footsteps and they were running. Before I could react to my fear, something approached my side and climbed upon the rock. It was a small boy, a look of panic on his face as he panted from exertion. Then his expression changed as he took in my appearance, as if he had seen my condition many times before. He had a cloth in hand, ragged, dirty and wet. He balled it up in the palm of his hand and proceeded to squeeze it over my mouth, dabbing it across my face and then squeezing it some more. As the water dripped onto my tongue, I looked up at him. His face was familiar and his eyes shone with an underlying fear. He opened his mouth as if wanting to speak but knowing the barrier between our languages. He could only continue to give me a drink, and I couldn't help but wonder why.

Abruptly, he looked up and peered into the jungle, his rapid breathing growing faster. Then he turned back to me. "Be careful, sir. Many man before you. She kills."

I propped myself up at his words. "What do you mean? Who is she?"

But he scampered down the boulder without another word nor a glance in my direction, leaving me to wonder what he meant. I peered into the jungle. There was only one way to find out.

----------

The boys emerged from their hotel suites, the sun shining bright and hot for the early morning. But it was a welcomed sight after the long, enduring night.

"Where's John? Has anyone seen John?" one of them asked as they gathered in the hallway.

"I'm here," he said, closing his louvered door behind him and gently brushing the lapel of his freshly pressed suit. They had all cleaned themselves up, washing away the burdens or errors of the night. However, the dark circles under his eyes were still apparent.

"Thank God. Where were you last night?" Andy said.

He rubbed his forehead. "I'm not sure."

"The last time we saw you, you were snogging some lass."

"Yeah but I can't even remember what happened after that. I've got a bloody awful headache."

"Let's get you some food. We're not letting you out of our sight either. We still need to find Simon."

----------

I stumbled through the brush, vines tangling their arms around me as if trying to entrap me within their jungle. And yet, it felt as if I already were. I still did not know where I was going. I had lost all sense of direction and felt like I was running sporadically in circles. There was no method to my hunt now but I knew she was close at hand. I could smell it.

I began to run faster, the breath in my lungs hardly able to keep up with my legs. I was starving and dehydrated and my exhausted body burned in anguish but my desire was stronger than ever. I panted heavily but pushed on.

And then I heard a crunch. It was a good distance away but close enough. I halted my steps and listened, my ears sharp to the din of the jungle. Suddenly, there was movement. Only a few meters away was the painted skin of my prey, nearly camouflaged by the vegetation around her. She was moving away from me and so I followed.

I pushed the branches away and jumped over decaying trees, increasing my pace, viciously and desperately trying to keep up with her. I was getting reckless and she knew it. But finally, with as much endurance as I could muster, I started gaining on her, further and further into the dark depths of the jungle until suddenly, we made eye contact. We stopped short in our tracks, the only sounds around us being the cicadas in the trees and our labored breathing.

She was as still as a deer, staring at me with her doe-like eyes. We gazed at each other for a few short seconds but it felt like an eternity with the adrenaline pumping throughout my body.

Unable to control myself any longer, I made a dash toward her. Her countenance changed instantly. She no longer ran as terrified prey but stood ready to fight. It was too late before I realized it and we were upon each other, face to face and inches apart.

A shrill scream sounded from her lungs as I lurched forward to attack. I wrapped my arm around her neck, ready to devour as I moved my lips closer to hers. But I became quickly entrapped in her claws and she reached out, swiping her long nails across the tender skin of my neck. I yelped in pain and grasped my wound, feeling the immediate oozing of blood.

Now that she had me distracted, she knew I was vulnerable as well. She tossed me over into the dry bed of dead leaves that had blanketed the jungle floor. In my takedown, I pulled her with me and tried to overpower her, flipping her onto her back. But her strength was more than I had anticipated and more than what was natural.

This was no regular human woman.

We tossed and turned on the ground. The fight was no longer to dominate but to survive--and how quickly it changed. I needed to escape her grasp but feared it was too late. This is what the boy meant. She was going to kill me just like the others.

Images flashed in my mind as I pictured the horrific things she must have done to other men. If her scratch hurt my neck, how much more so would her ripping me to pieces. I was going to die out here--alone, without my friends. I wouldn't even be able to say goodbye.

But then she stopped and tumbled beside me, no longer trying to fight. She scrambled away and seeing my opportunity, I retreated as well. I tried to steady myself, but my head still felt cloudy either from whatever spell she held or simply from the blood rushing to my head after rising to my feet. I grew weary again, my legs wobbly as the adrenaline left my body. I collapsed again to the ground.

She watched me as she stood up, coming away unscathed from the fight. But instead of finishing off her newest victim, she turned and ran away, disappearing quickly into the thick brush of the jungle. And then there was silence.

I panted heavily, standing on my knees and gazing at the empty space before me that no longer held her captivating presence. I fell to the ground and rolled onto my back, staring up at the trees reaching high above me. She had spared my life--but why?

I blinked, the cloudiness that had occupied my mind for so long now vanishing like a thin mist. As I began to gain my senses back, I sat up and looked around. I couldn't remember where I had come from but I knew if I could find the watering hole, I was going to be okay. I stood to my feet, unsteady at first, and began to walk, going the opposite direction she had gone. The hunt was over. I needed to find my friends.

----------

I had been walking for a long time and now that my desires had vanished and I no longer yearned for the woman, my body's other needs returned. I was exhausted, parched and hungry for food.

I finally made my way to familiar places I had encountered before. There was the riverbend, and I remembered the climb I had made. I followed the river's path but stumbled upon no signs of civilization, not even a man and his canoe. It looked like I was going to have to walk all the way back to the city.

What seemed like hours later, I emerged upon some small shanty homes and then found myself entering a neighborhood. Not long to follow was finally the city. I meandered mindlessly through the bazaar, the chaos of the market ringing in my ears, though it now did little to bother me. There was solace when I approached the same tea room where my adventure all began. I stepped inside, welcomed by the same smoky haze spinning around in whisps by the large fans held by young boys to circulate the stale air. But it was a beautiful and peaceful sight to behold. I was safe. And whatever had led me into the jungle had let go of her claws around me.

I sat down at the same table as before and looked around, pleased to find myself surrounded by people. A man approached and handed me a menu, before placing a bottle of something on the table. I grasped for it and poured the red contents into the accompanying glass and drank.

My throat throbbed in pain. Lightly, I touched my wound, blood still seeping from the scratches. Somehow, I knew it was going to take a long time to heal.

"Simon!" I heard a voice call out. I turned around to see my friends running up to my table, placing themselves immediately in the seats beside me.

"Thank God we found you! Where have you been?" Nick said, sitting closest to me. His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced at my injury.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I said, humorously. The others smiled lightly, surely relieved that we were all together again. I, however, was also relieved to still be alive. I smiled at the thought of the fate I had barely escaped. No, they wouldn't believe me. Instead, I added, "I suppose a man will do anything to get a woman."

"Ah, but then she rejected ya, I see," Andy said.

"Yes," I replied. "I suppose she did."