ZADR -Answer-

I squint my eyes against the cold breeze, hoping vehemently that the rain won't start until I'm in the restaurant. I'm meeting somebody – somebody I haven't seen in a while. He was my first boyfriend. Now he's my best friend. The excitement at seeing him is a tingling warmth in my stomach that combats the chill of the weather.

The high pitch of one of the voices ahead of me catches my attention and I look upward.

They've been walking side by side for a few blocks now, bickering animatedly. The taller one is pale and slender with jet-black hair and a long trench coat and a blue scarf. The other is shorter with dark hair. He's wearing a red jacket and black, snug jeans. The way he's walking is hilarious.

"Truly you are a fool," she short one says, and he means it, which makes me grin.

"Am I?" the tall one asks, voice full of humor.

"Yes. How dare you question me."

The tall one snickers. "Sorry."

"Bah!" The taller one glances at the shorter. "I do not want your pa-THE-tic apologies."

"Oh." A moment passes quietly. "Well what do you want from me?"

The smaller one stops and turns. Startled, I turn to the shop I'm passing (that happens to be antiques) and pretend to think hard about the vase sitting there. In the window I see him extend an arm. The tall boy – he's wearing glasses – looks confused.

"Give me your arm, inferior Dib!"

"-Oh!"

The taller outstretches an arm and stares in surprise when the littler one takes it, crossly draping it over his shoulder. Before the other can react he turns and marches forward, dragging the blushing one in the trenchcoat with him.

Holding my breath, I peek without turning my head. The small one has drawn close, his friend's arm tight around his wiry shoulders. I feel a grin spread across my face.

"Dib thing," the little one says, "my plans to vanquish your world are still in place. I have decided that you shall be my accomplice. If you do not comply, I will be forced to make you comply."

"Oh." The tall, slim one seems flustered still, his wrist draped over the other's shoulder. "I'll have to think about that."

The breeze is cold and moist. I shiver and realize that I might be running late.

"There is no need for thoughts, fool-boy. Comply not and save me some effort."

Their voices are fading now; they're almost a block away. I begin to walk slowly, careful not to crunch my boots into the autumn leaves. The dull hum of voices indicates that I'm in front of the restaurant. The taller one says something – one syllable – and the little one looks up.

I don't want to go, but I have to. I wrap my fingers around the handle.

The tall one says, "I know my answer."

He stops and I turn my head, desperate to see. And as I open the door and step inside, he grips the little one by the shoulders and leans forward.