"Where were you?!"

Roya winced as Mrs.Smith yelled at him, her face red with rage. He had skipped the remaining hours of school to be with Damien, whom he had taken to he art district, as promised.

"We were worried sick about you. Didn't show up for any classes, and didn't get to your dormitory until the night. Honestly Roya, you're better than this!"
Mrs. Smith paced the office, throwing Roya glares every few seconds.

"I needed a break."
Roya said firmly.
"Someone needed my help."

Mrs.Smith was fuming.
"That's no excuse, Roya."
She paced even more, before finally settling behind her desk. She pulled a price of parchment from a tray on her desk, and began writing.

"Where were you?"
She inquired.

"The Art District."
Roya replied smoothly.

"Who were you with?"
She continued.

"A friend."

Mrs.Smith looked over the rim of her glasses, right at him.
"Were you with a girl?"

"No."
Roya said, truthfully.

The teacher moved on.
"Why were you there?"

Roya took a deep breath.
"I'm sure that none of your concern."

Mrs.Smith looked ready to burst. She pointed towards the office door.
"Out"

❖ ❖ ❖

Roya was at Damien's house within minutes. He climbed the tree, and sat on the windowsill. He knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again.

"It's open!"
Damien's voice called.

Roya fiddled with the lock for a moment, and the the window swung open. The sight before him surprised him.

Damien was sitting on the edge of his bed, a girl was there, brushing his hair and chatting away about something Roya didn't quite catch. She had golden hair that was curled into tight ringlets. She wore a plain, buttercup colored dress, and the hair brush she was holding was decked out in rhinestones. A book lay open in her lap, she had been evidently reading from it.

She looked at Damien and raised an eyebrow.
"Who is this?"

Damien shrugged.
"That's Roya, he's a friend of mine. Roya this is Charlotte, my cousin."

Roya tilted his head, like a confused dog.
"I thought you weren't coming until next week."

"There was a change of plans. We bought the early train ticket, so I got here quicker."'

Roya nodded. It was awkward. Normally Damien would have begun chattering away about one thing or another. He would've started making cheesy jokes, but he was oddly poised then.

"You can have a seat, Roya." Damien said, nodding towards a a chair next to the bed.

"So, what do you do?" Charlotte said, looking at Roya.

"School, mostly. I used to work as a newsboy for The Oracle, but I barely pick up papers anymore. Not since..."
He looked at Damien and trailed off.

Charlotte looked back and forth between the two boys. She seemed to be analyzing the situation, calculating the best way to break the awkward silence. In the end she just shrugged, and turned back to her book.

"Quoth the raven, nevermore-"

"That's The Raven. By Edgar Allen Poe." Roya interrupted, recognizing the iconic line immediately.

"One of my favorite poems." Charlotte said, smiling.

"Mine too, it's so eerily beautiful."
Roya said, glad he was at least making some sort of small talk with Charlotte.

"Damien has never read it before, so I brought along an anthology of all of Poe's works."

Damien nodded.
"It's very interesting. Can you start over, I want to hear the whole thing with no no interruptions."
Charlotte agreed.

"Once upon a midnight dreary..."