Four

“Oh my god. This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had,” I exclaim, mouth full of sandwich. The crisp bread of the panini was perfectly toasted, oozing with melted pepper jack cheese and turkey.

A smile dances in Cat’s golden eyes.

“See, I told you!” She takes another large bite from her sandwich, completely stuffing her mouth, and wipes away a bit of dressing that is running down her chine with the back of her hand. For a girl with such a svelte figure, she sure can put away the food.

 I sit in amusement and watch her for a moment, wondering where exactly she puts it all. I know that I am tall, lean, athletic, and can consume my fair share of food, but Cat is a perfect balance of curves and rock-hard muscle. Never in a million years would one guess that she can and does eat like this.

I’ve been silently aware of the fact that Brayan is seated to our left, several tables down. The tinge of recognition simmering under my porcelain skin would have been a dead giveaway, had I not inadvertently spotted him with my peripheral vision as I sat down. He’s sitting alone, brooding, at a small, corner table. His midnight eyes stare flatly at the courtyard beyond the windows as he eats.

A couple of girls seated at a table behind him keep looking in his direction and whispering to each other. The sight of them so enthralled with him causes a pang of jealousy to briefly war with my common sense. I roll my eyes at the nonsense of it all.

Ha, yeah. Good luck with that�"Y’all have no idea.

Cat and I sit in silence for a moment as we polish off our paninis. The sounds of muffled conversations surrounding us. I focus on the hustle and bustle of people coming and going from The Market in hopes of keeping my thoughts from spinning to Brayan. Nobody else seems to be suffering at the hands of his foolishness. Nobody but me.

The ice cubes in my Vanilla Coke clink against each other as I chew on the end of the blue plastic straw. A part of me breaks with betrayal as my eyes slowly slide in Brayan’s direction.

“You know, he can be really sweet and he is a good friend to have, but all these girls don’t need to get their hopes up,” Cat says, her amber eyes following the line of my gaze.

Busted.

I pull the straw out of my drink and use it to point towards myself, a drop of Vanilla Coke splatters on the table in front of me. “No worries here. He looks like the stereotypical bad boy. I’m not interested in that.” As I say this, I recognize just how unconvincing my words are.

Cat giggles and turns her feline eyes on me, the darker shades of amber smoldering around the shimmering gold. “Don’t get me wrong, he can definitely be a player�"but you’ve already figured that out. He knows he’s hot stuff and he knows that he can use his looks to get what he wants from girls�"or from anyone for that matter.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I say flatly as I furrow my brows.

“So, I’m assuming there’s no girlfriend in the picture?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

She shakes her head. “No. Like I said, he knows he can have pretty much any girl he wants, so I’m guessing he doesn’t think that he needs one. In fact, as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him even date a girl. Which is strange considering how much he likes to partake in frivolous flirting with them.”

I plunge my straw down into the ice of my coke. “Maybe they’ve all got him figured out.”

Cat shrugs, “Maybe so.”

We both glance over to him again. He’s leaning back in his chair now, both arms on the table as he absentmindedly rolls a piece of paper between his fingers. He’s still watching intently out the window as the sun begins to fade behind the mountains. Cat lowers her voice to a soft whisper, “Or maybe he just hasn’t found the right girl. His shameless flirting and mind games could just be his way of trying to figure out who’s worth it and who’s not.”

She looks back at me, leaning in closer. “Just promise me you won’t get sucked up in his games. Like I said, he will be a good friend to have, and he’s super smart and maybe a little misunderstood, but you deserve a guy that deserves you. Don’t let him treat you like he does all these other girls. He’s a heartbreaker.”

I nod at Cat’s words. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about there. He already hates me…I can tell,” I say, my voice growing quieter as I speak the words I find myself not wanting to admit.

“Oh Cai, surely not,” Cat’s voice is soft and caressing.

Oh, trust me.

I look at her and shrug, still playing with the straw in my coke. I huff out a breath and lean against the back of my chair, crossing my arms. “Then why does every other person I’ve seen him talk to get at least some sort of pleasantness out of him, including you, and all I get are the stone-cold glares?” I ask, accusingly.

You’re so envious, you’re turning green…

Backtracking a little I say, “I mean, I smiled and was very polite to him when you introduced us, but he never returned a smile. It was cold.”

It’s also not the first time you’ve met…

I want to body slam my inner-self for her traitorous ways.

A thoughtful look spreads across Cat’s face as she rests her chin on her hand. “Maybe you just shocked him a little bit? I mean this in the absolute best way possible, you’re a lot different than the majority of the girls around here. You’re… more, if that even makes sense.” She taps the tips of her long, delicate fingers on her cheekbone. “Maybe you caught him off-guard and he’s not used to that, so you kind of threw him for a loop.” She offers, chewing on her glossy bottom lip.

I am different. And possibly�"no, definitely mental.

“I seriously doubt he has any admiration or respect for me,” I reply.

An ember simmering at the base of my spine sparks, sending a tiny wave of energy dancing up my back and feathering across my shoulders. The hairs on the back of my neck rise. I look over at Brayan, who is gathering his things and about to leave. A smirk forms on his face, emphasizing the dimple below his chiseled cheekbone, as he places a napkin over his plate and pushes his chair in. I blow off the look, figuring it is nothing more than a response to something he must have overheard from the gawking girls at the table behind him.

My mind floods with more questions.

Why does my body betray my mind and react to his every breath, his every movement? And what about everything Cat just said? Why has she suddenly contradicted her earlier words? First it was, “Just give him a chance,” and now it’s, “He’s a heartbreaker�"don’t let him fool you.” Why the contradictions in her advice? I rest my head on my fingertips and rub my temples. All of this tension is giving me a horrible headache. And, it’s not like I can just brush him off and say I’ll never see him again. Though the campus may be sprawling and spacious, there are just under 2,000 students total. I’m going to see him again, possibly quite often, considering he’s also an English lit major.

Why can’t life be easy for once? Just once.

My phones vibrates in my back pocket, snapping me out of my miserable thoughts.

I slide the phone from my pocket and see that it’s a text from Uncle Oliver. I unlock my phone and immediately open the text. He’s sent me a photo of his dinner, a green chile cheeseburger with a heaping mound of fries covered in ketchup.

Dinner’s served. Got all the major food groups covered. Grease, cheese, and green chile!

I read his text and can’t contain myself as a soft giggle escapes me.

Cat looks at me quizzically.

“It’s my Uncle Oliver. He’s in Santa Fe for the night and he sent me a picture of his dinner. I made him promise me he would do that every day�"I worry about him. He’s never really had to live on his own before.” I shrug, offering Cat a grin.

Cat’s eyes grow softer, an understanding flickers in the gold around her pupils. “Well, are you going to tell me what he’s eating or are you going to make me pry the phone from your hands,” she questions, trying and failing to sound serious.

I hold my phone close to my chest with both hands and bite on my lower lip, wide eyed.

“What?” She asks innocently. “I have a self-proclaimed right to know all things pertaining to food!” She’s now smiling so big I can see all of her perfect, white teeth.

I turn my phone around so she can see the picture. “It’s a�",”

“Green chile cheeseburger and fries!” Cat cuts me off, her eyes wide.

“How’d you know?” I ask, amazed at how quickly she knew what it was.

“Silly girl. I told you, I love food.” A wistful look crosses her amber eyes. The light golden rings around her pupils catch the rays of the quickly setting sun, shining through the windows, and glow in mimic of them.

Laughing and shaking my head at Cat’s utter ridiculousness, I shoot Uncle Ollie a text.

Not sure those food groups are the ones needed to stay properly nourished…but I’ll let you slide just this once. Drive safe tomorrow.

I hit send and set my phone face down on the table. Most of the people that had been in the dining area have now cleared out. Silence falls over us as I gaze out of one of the large windows, watching the top edge of the sun slowly disappear behind the mountain peak. For a moment, I wonder where Brayan went to when he left.

Does it matter? Wherever it is, he doesn’t want you there.

A yawn escapes me as I think about duct taping my inner-self’s mouth shut. I guess the stress of this day has worn on me more than I realize.

“Excuse me,” I say to Cat through my yawn. “I’ve been up since 3 A.M.”

Cat tosses the thick, black waves of her hair to one side. “No worries. The first day of college is always a big one.”

I smile and nod at Cat.

“Let’s go back to our room, we can finish getting settled in and then just hang out and relax. Tomorrow, I can take you around the campus�"if you want.” Her hopeful eyes watch mine.

“Sure, Cat. That sounds great,” I say as I smile a genuine smile at her and stifle another yawn.

Cat just may be the best friend I’ve ever had. There’s just something about her that’s so different from any of the other girls I’ve known, aside from the obvious fact that she could easily make millions walking a runway. I can just tell that she’s genuine and honest in her words and her actions. And those two qualities are far and few between nowadays. After growing up knowing that most people aren’t worthy of my trust, it’s nice to know that people like Cat still exist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Cat immediately plops into one of the plush leather chairs in the main room. Curling her long legs up next to her in the oversized seat. She yawns, stretching her toned arms above her head. “I’ve not done much today, but I’m so tired for some reason. I can’t imagine how you feel right now.”

“I’m pretty beat. I never thought I’d be grateful for actually not having that many personal possessions, but I’m kinda glad I didn’t have to move more than what I did,” I reply as I stand, my eyes sweeping around the luxurious sweet.

I still can’t believe this is where I live.

Cat settles further into the corner of her seat. “Cai, I have a feeling that you understand better than anyone that it’s not the amount of stuff that you have that matters. Ever.” She traces a seam on the arm of her chair with a finger. “Memories matter, relationships matter, people matter, being compassionate in a world where that’s hardly ever the case, matters. Not the stuff you own.” Cat’s voice is subtle yet her words convincing.

Her kohl rimmed eyes glow in the pale twilight of dusk filtering through the window coverings. There’s not one imperfection on Cat, right down to her soul. She’s pure through and through.

I’m mesmerized for a moment by her beauty. I wonder what it is with the people in this place�"how they’re all so beautiful. I definitely missed the supermodel requirement on my admissions application.

I smile back at Cat and quietly reply, “Yeah.” My fingers cradle the cool, smooth surface of the turquoise stone hanging around my neck.

I wish my mom could see this. Could see me here, now. I hope that she’s proud of me. I close my eyes, my fingers still resting on the pendant, and offer a silent prayer. Seeking hope and encouragement and validation.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna go take a shower, I’m pretty sure I reek and you’re just too nice to tell me about it,” I say, smirking at Cat.

Cat shifts in her chair, crossing her long legs. She folds her hands in her lap, looking at me thoughtfully. “Well, ya know, I didn’t want to say anything. But since you brought it up…”

We both burst out laughing as Cat’s face falters with the inability to finish her sentence while keeping a straight face.

“It’s probably true, though! I’m filthy from moving the boxes!” My voice is lighthearted as I laugh my response.

“Sweetie, I’d tell you if you were offensive�"trust me,” she looks at me side-eyed, cleaning invisible dirt from beneath a manicured nail. “Now, hurry up and get that shower taken. There’s way more girl talk to be had!”

“Goiiinng…,” my voice trails off after me as I head through the door to my bedroom.

The hairs on my body immediately rise as soon as I walk through the door of my dark room. Goosebumps dot my exposed flesh. My stomach tenses and I freeze.

Where’s the light switch?

I fumble around in the darkness, sliding my hand across the wall, frantically searching for the switch, and finally find it. Turning the light on, I find that my room is just as I left it.

I lean my back against the wall and hold my hand against my chest. My heart racing beneath my ribs. Sweat beads on my temple. Why am I feeling this way? What is going on?

I push myself away from the wall, walk over to my window, and peer out between the curtains. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. The sky is painted in brilliant shades of purples and pinks as twilight gradually swirls away to night. Scattered throughout the sky are the navy blue outlines of billowy clouds. On the ground below, some people are playing soccer under the lights of one of the Rec fields. A few others jog a dimly lit trail that winds through campus. But Brayan is nowhere to be seen.

I breathe out heavily, stepping away from the window. I lock my fingers together on top of my head. Tension still running rapid through my body. What is wrong with me?

I take a few steps back from the window. The sparks begin to trickle away to nothing. In a matter of seconds, they are stifled and I feel completely normal.

Cai? Normal? Please.

Midnight eyes swarm my thoughts, taking root in every crevice of my brain as I walk over to my dresser and pull out a soft, faded t-shirt and a pair of black yoga shorts, then head to the bathroom.

I find myself locking both doors. Not because I’m worried about Cat coming in here, but because I still feel invaded upon by Brayan, his eyes, and that feeling. Just the thought of his name is causing goosebumps to rise again on my flesh. I know that I can’t let the thought of him consume me nor control me anymore. He doesn’t own that right. But my body and my thoughts so quickly disobey me and I don’t know how to make this stop.

Like locking the door is gonna help.

I slip my chucks off without untying them and pad across the tile to the spacious shower. Reaching in, I turn the copper handles and watch as a rain-like shower begins to gently stream down. I adjust the handles so that the water temperature is just the right amount of hot.

Perfection.

Going back to the vanity, I pull my gray tank top over my head. Unbuttoning my shorts, I step out of them. Steam clouds the large vanity mirror.

I stand there, in front of the mirror for a moment, staring at myself. I am definitely nothing like the girls that I have seen here today. There are no voluptuous curves on my stick-straight frame. There is no bronze glow of a perfect tan, only a map of scars marking my pale skin in various places. The permanent memories I keep from all of the sports I’ve played in my life.

I release my hair from its tie and toss it on the granite counter of the vanity. The stick straight layers of my deep auburn hair fall over my shoulders and down the middle of my back. I quickly remove my undergarments and step into the steam-filled shower.

I let the perfectly heated shower of water spray my face. Turning, I breathe out an exhausted sigh of relief as the water massages and cascades down the aching and tired muscles of my back. I close my eyes and stand there for a moment, letting the hot water drench me and sooth my exhausted body. The massaging pulse of water from the shower head lulls my eyes closed again.

As if it’s the most natural reaction in the world, I instantly see Brayan’s midnight blue eyes staring back at me from inky depths of my shut eyelids. I clench my eyes tightly shut, trying to rid myself of the vision. It doesn’t work. It’s as if he is standing there with me, face to face. The silver rings around his irises flare, almost blinding me.

The realness of the vision causes my eyes fly wide open. Traces of silver rings still burn in my vision. It’s all too real.

S**t, Cailan. You’ve got to quit thinking about him.

Easier said than done.

I’m trying to keep my mind off of him, but it’s as if he’s taken complete control over my inner most thoughts, commanding me to see him, to feel him.

Startled and short of breath, I rush through the rest of my shower.

I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a plush, white towel. Realizing that the mirrors are fogged over from the steam of the shower, I take a hand towel from its holder and clear a small portion of the glass. My usually porcelain and pale face is flushed from the combination of the heat from the shower and the intensity of my last vision. My large blue-grey eyes have streaks of mascara running from them, making me look as if I’ve been sobbing hysterically.

I open the top drawer of the vanity, where I stored some of my beauty items earlier, and pull out my eye makeup remover and a cotton ball. Meticulously, I scrub all of the black streaks from my face and eyes until there’s not a speck of the color left.

I can hear Cat in her room, it sounds as if she’s opening and closing her dresser drawers.

Not wanting to hog the bathroom for any longer than I already have, I quickly throw on my faded t-shirt from my freshman year of track and pull on my black yoga shorts. I towel off the excess water from my hair, quickly run a comb through its layers, and unlock both doors before going back to my room.

Back in my room, I notice that Uncle Oliver has texted me back.

It was delicious! Planning on heading out 2morrow @ 9. Please try to have some fun before classes start. Text U later.

I read his text, smiling to myself at his request for me to have fun. I'm glad he can be a part of this experience with me. And I’m also a bit depressed about the fact that he knows me well enough to know that business will always come before fun for me. But he’s right. I just need to relax and have a little fun these next couple of days before classes start. And I definitely, definitely need to stop thinking about a certain guy and his eyes.

By the time I make it back out to the main room, Cat is back as well, perched on one end of the plush leather couch, feet stuffed in furry, black slippers propped up on the coffee table. She has changed into a black tank top with the words Dream On scrolling across it in pink glitter and a pair pink and white plaid pajama shorts. It’s so not fair that someone can look that perfectly put together, even in their pajamas.

She’s brought a velvety, hot pink blanket from her room and has popped a steaming bowl of buttery popcorn. I plop down on the opposite end of the couch and reach over to the coffee table, pulling the large bowl of popcorn to the couch and resting it on the cushion between us.

“Oh my gosh,” I say with my mouth full of the buttery and salty treat. “This is sooo good!"

"Thanks," she beams. "Popcorn is about the only thing I can cook. If that even counts as cooking.”

I smile at her as I pop another handful in my mouth. "Well, whether it’s cooking or not, you're definitely a pro at it."

Cat winks an amber eye at me, “You know it, sweetie.”

I grab one end of the plush blanket and pull it over my legs. Cat has opened the kitchen window and one of the main room windows, letting the cool air of the mountain night drift throughout our suite. There’s a faint scent of pine laced in the gentle breeze.

Cat pulls her long legs up, curling beneath her end of the soft blanket. She reaches for the remote on the end table nearest her and flips on the large flat screen television, hanging above the fireplace, turning the volume down so that we can talk. The blue lights from the screen flicker softly on the wall behind us. Neither of us pays any attention to what is showing on the TV, as we are so focused on the deliciously buttered popcorn and conversing with one another. A pleasant feeling falls over me. Being here with Cat, in this moment, just feels right.

Despite being worn out from the day’s events, Cat and I stay up until the wee hours of the early morning talking about anything and everything. The shadows cast in the apartment from the images on the television screen shift and shape themselves throughout the hours, silently telling stories of their own. Stories we aren’t watching. She's such an easy person to talk to. I've never been one to be able to sit down and spill my guts easily. But with Cat, I can feel heavy covers of my pages cracking open slightly.

Over the hours, I learn that I'm her first roommate to ever have, she lived alone in this suite last year. I learn that she has had a long list of guys that she's gone on dates with, but no serious relationships�"nothing spanning further than the first date. "I've just never found a guy that's worthy of my trust or my time,” she says matter-of-factly. “And if I live my life without ever finding that guy, then so be it. I like to have my fair share of fun with boys, but I'm not devoting my heart to someone unworthy." Spoken like a woman wise beyond her nineteen years and who’s had plenty of time to think about this. Knowing exactly what she wants and exactly what she deserves.

I stare directly at Cat, her amber eyes lit from the soft glow of the television, and bare a fact that I’ve shared with very few others. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. In fact, unless you count going to eat at the local diner and ending the night right after that because of sheer mind-numbing boredom, then I've never been on a real date either.”

From there, my pages open and I fill Cat in on everything, from my mom's terrible accident to my inane high school debacles to spending the last eight years living with my uncle. I willingly share it all with her. She wants to know everything and she's genuinely interested in all I have to say. Why�"I have no clue. I'm certainly not the most interesting person in the world. My life is rather boring�"but I'm just fine with that.

Leaning my head back against the leather couch, cool to the touch from the night air trickling through the still open windows, I thoughtfully look at Cat. The golden rings around her pupils are vibrant beneath her half-closed lids, despite the darkness of the room.

Why are her eyes so similar to his?

I force the question quickly to the back of my mind. I don't want to think about him right now. I don’t want to think about him at all.

I change the subject of our talk in hopes that it will change the subject of my thoughts. “So�"you kind of know everything there is to know about my rather boring and slightly messed up life, tell me a little more about yours. Where are you from?"

Cat's gaze turns towards the open window in the main room, as if she's searching for the answer beyond it somewhere. Her voice lowers. For the first time all day, there’s not even a hint of a smile on her lips. “Well, it's difficult to say. I guess you can say I'm from all over." Her eyes slide back towards me as she continues. "My parents work for a global technology company and we moved around a lot when I was growing up. We didn’t stay in any one place for any length of time�"less than a year most of the time. I've lived in Paris, London, Dublin, Toronto, New York City, and Vancouver.” My mouth drops open listening to her list all of the places she’s not just visited, but actually lived. I’m utterly speechless as she continues, “But I guess if I had to pick a place that I would call home, it would have to be Salem, Oregon. We were there, mostly, for the last three years of high school�"apart from the summers spent in various places overseas.”

I am in shock from hearing all of the places she's lived. I’ve only ever been to three states, including New Mexico, much less three countries. I can’t even imagine the stories she must have from each of those places. “Wow, Cat! I can't believe you lived in all those places. I can't even imagine moving around like that. But you're lucky to have seen the world like that," I say, watching her fidget a little. The tiny movement registers with me as I wonder what could have happened to her to make her feel uneasy about sharing this part of her life with me.

She hesitates, “Yeah…You could look at it that way. But on the other hand, I don't know what it's like to have a place that's always there for me, that I can go to anytime I want. When I came to Aspen Springs, my parents sold our house in Salem. And now they basically live out of fancy hotels and bounce from one country to the next�"wherever their jobs take them. I haven't even seen them since last December. I can’t even tell you the last time I even talked to either one of them on the phone. For two people whose entire lives revolve around technology, they sure don’t seem to have mastered how to use it for communication yet.” As she says this, I can see the glint of tears forming in her eyes, making the golden amber look like glass.

The luster in her eyes suddenly disappears. Her voice wobbles as a tear escapes and rolls down her cheek, "I know you miss your mom terribly, but at least you have your Uncle Oliver and a place to call home.” She looks down at her lap, playing with the edge of the plush velvet blanket. “You may think I'm lucky because of the places I've lived and the things that I have, but really, you're the lucky one.” Both of her cheeks are painted with tears now. “I envy the close relationship you have with your uncle and the relationship you had with your mom. Those relationships are so special. Those relationships are things that you hold on to forever. They’re what make life worth living. Not the material things. I would kill to have that kind of closeness with my family.”

And there's the real Cat. Beautiful, independent, intelligent, and scarred. Human. Just like me. Well, except for maybe the beautiful part. Acting on pure extinct, I lean forward and embrace Cat, offering her words I’ve never offered any other ‘friend’ I’ve ever had. “How about from now on, we be each other's family?"

Cat returns my hug, holding me tightly as she gently sobs on my shoulder. Through her tears she responds, "I always wanted a sister." I tighten the embrace, “Well, now you’ve got one�"whether you like me or not.” Her gentle sobs come to a hush. "Of course I like you, silly. I've cried in front of you, twice!" She gulps out.

It is in this moment I realize that I am not the only one here that is learning how to feel. Though our life experiences may be vastly different, we have both faced hardships that have forced us to shun the idea of letting others in. We've worked meticulously to build our walls, bind our stories, conceal our feelings, ensuring that they are as impenetrable as the granite walls of Aspen Springs. But maybe we've forged them so well, that we have forgotten that sometimes it’s okay to let others in. That sometimes it’s necessary. Cat leans back a bit and takes each of my hands in hers, tears still glisten in her beautiful eyes. "I'm glad we’re in this together,” she whispers, a hint of a smile returning to her face.

I gulp back the emotions threatening to seep from my pages, “Me too."

"S**t. It's late," she remarks, looking at the ornate clock hanging on the wall next to the fireplace. "I didn't realize we’ve been sitting here this long.”

I look over at the clock. It's almost 3 A.M. I take the remote and switch the television off. The blue light from the screen fading to black. The shadows that had been dancing on the walls of our suite laid to rest. “Tonight was good. I needed to talk about everything with someone. I've never really done that before, well, only with Uncle Oliver, but that's different." I barely get my words out before a yawn escapes me.

Cat beams at me, her white teeth gleaming in the moonlight pouring through the windows of the main room. She fights off a yawn, “We should really get some sleep. If you want, I can show you around campus some tomorrow and then maybe we can hit the bookstore before they sell out of all of our required texts."

"Sounds like a plan," I say, slowly getting up and making my way to my bedroom door.

"Goodnight," Cat says as she pauses at her door, one hand on the handle.

"Night, Cat," I reply softly and open my door.

I walk over to my bedroom window and peer out from between the curtains. The pale light of the full moon faintly illuminates the outlines of the pines and aspens that line the Rec field. The spiry peaks of the Sangre de Cristo's loom against the darkness of the night sky.

I pull the curtains taut and amble back across the room to my bed. I unfold the beautiful blanket, Cat’s gift, spread it across my bed, and crawl in. The soft mattress cradles my exhausted body.

I roll over on my side and face the window. The splinter of moonlight shining through the curtains casts a midnight blue shadow across my bed. My mind helplessly wanders to Brayan. I wonder where he is, if he lives on campus or not. I wonder if I will see him tomorrow. And I wonder if he will ever act normal towards me. Whatever normal even is. As I lie in bed with my eyes closed, those beautiful and haunting eyes stare back at me. Sleep finds me quickly as images of starlight on a midnight sky caress my dreams.