On the fuck-yes side: The Audience Houses dining room was definitely big enough for V to get a good running start at it; Lassiter more than deserved a punter for lesser infractions ranging from hogging the remote to those zebra-print, David Lee Roth–from-1985-wants-his-pants-back leggings; and, as V was the son of a deity, there was a chance that he would survive the retaliation that would inevitably come to him.
Dont tell me I missed it? Over already—damn.Sarahs entire face lights up. It makes me feel a bit drunk.
Henry! What are you doing here?I couldnt stay away.And Im only half joking.
A gorgeously round little piece with bright blue eyes and blond hair approaches from across the room and curtsies, sighing, Wow. Wow, wow, wow.This must be Annie—Sarah talks about her and Willard often.
This is Annie, Sarah says.
Shes the type Id usually go for—perky and easily happy with a look of pure hero worship on her face. The funny thing is, shes Sarahs friend, and that fact puts up an immediate roadblock in my brain, muting any attraction to her.I pause for a moment, distracted by the words echoing in my memory and the shadow of the sickening feeling that twisted in my gut. Helplessness.
And then, she hugged me. Really hugged me. It was the first time—the only time—she ever did that. Her arms were so strong. She pressed my face against her chest and stroked my hair, and she said, Oh, my sweet boy, I would give anything . . . but theyre gone, Henry. Theyre gone.Then she cried. We both did.
I feel Sarahs hand on my jaw, her thumb brushing. Her face close to mine and her beautiful eyes shiny and sad. Im so sorry, Henry.I give her a nod. Then I finish the story.