She was guilty as charged. It was like she was making a phone call
to her soul and when it picked up the line was so fuzzy that she
couldn’t make out the message. Why couldn’t she call herself
back?
Harrison smacked the table in front of her. She pulled her hand back
and under the table to sit on her knee.

"What," she said tersely.

"You’re a million miles away, Brooke."

He stopped when he saw her accusatory expression. When she softened
he let himself be comforted.

"I’m sorry," she said.

He attempted a half-assed smile and passed her the bread.

"No, thanks," she pushed it back toward him, and stabbed at
the last
cucumber in her salad.

"Why are we here?"

He couldn’t stop himself from asking. A little part of him
wanted
to hurt her for the way she had been treating him. He felt sick when
that small part rejoiced at her surprised face.

"Because we’re having lunch, funny boy."

There was no way to relax around her lately. He had constantly been
on his guard. There was a sick curiosity inside him that wondered
how far he could push her before she would snap at him and he could
finally get what he had been thinking off his chest. She hadn’t
been
there for him for the last month. There was something opening a gulf
between them and there was no indication of what it could possibly
be. The only clues he had from her were a seemingly misplaced
comment about some dead Greek guy, and the way she looked at Sam.

It was two weeks ago that he had been over for a group movie night.
Carm had brought the latest releases from work, Lily had provided
the food courtesy of Mr. Clucks, and Josh had brought the board
games. They had even invited Mary Cherry to join in the night of
teen abandon. She had actually surprised everyone with how good she
was at the DVD game, Scene It. Trivial Pursuit had been the game of
the moment, however, and Brooke had shocked everyone except Sam with
her new found proficiency at answering some of the hard questions
posed in the game. She had grinned widely into Sam’s eyes as she
had
pulled off the previously impossible task of naming the tutor of
Alexander the Great.

"Aristotle!" She had shouted with glee. She turned on her
smile that
had seemed to be reserved for one person all night and simply
said, "Reminds me of Aristophanes". Sam had smiled right back
at
her. Now, Harrison didn’t know much about Greek literature, but
he
had been forced to read some of it in school just like the rest of
them. He was pretty sure that Aristophanes was a character in
Plato’s Symposium, and had nothing to do with the question.