Retrospect

Eighteen

We had stayed out a little longer, keeping an eye out for more officers while trying to steal two pairs of expensive gloves but to no avail. By the time we were walking back on the streets to Room 767 in the apartment complex, the full, white moon was already out and the night was colder than it had ever been. The rain had stopped earlier, but puddles were still on the ground, reflecting the colorful, changing city lights. The stores around us were open, yet only a handful of people were out, roaming the streets.

Since my hologram plate had lost power, I had my head down and hood up. Miles had his on too, but I was sure most of the civilians wouldn't be able to see our faces or pay attention to us even if we had our faces exposed. The cover of night made it easier to walk without being spotted.

The bright, neon violet, pink, and blue lights of the stores guided our way along the streets as advertisements and broadcasts on the sides of the skyscrapers surrounding us blared, but I could barely hear them as my thoughts clouded my mind.

Miles and I hadn't talked since we had started the journey back to the apartment building and we kept the same pace. My eyes darted over secretly to look up at him. His gaze was trained on the streets ahead, the lights we strolled by casting a soft, teal glow onto his face. I hadn't realized how obvious it was and how long that I'd been staring.

"What do you want?" he said lazily, putting his hands in his pockets. I tore my eyes away from him then and focused on an advertisement close by. I wasn't aware that he had known I was watching him the whole time.

I hadn't really known why I'd been staring (maybe it was because I hadn't really gotten a good look at Miles until now), but I tried to form words to cover up with a question. One that had actually been burned into my brain from today. I looked back over at him. "What was wrong with that officer?"

He didn't respond, our shoes hitting the silver walk echoing. I sighed and turned my head away from him, figuring he was just ignoring me even though he had asked me a question first. All I could hear were the loud broadcasts about the aquarium and faint music playing. He broke the silence between us.

"It was the chemical inside the gun. The same one the workers use at Hale," he said, never even glancing at me.

I watched my shoes as I walked. "But what was happening to him?"

Miles, again, waited for the longest time before answering. Then his head finally turned to look at me and the lights of the city swam in his eyes. "It was removing memories, just like the workers do with the dead. Only they put it on a chip."

"So..." I started as Miles faced away again, "he doesn't remember anything now?"

"Nope," Miles replied nonchalantly, as if he was used to all of this. Here next to me was a person armed with a weapon that could erase somebody's entire life from their brain. If this existed, there were definitely more out there in the hands of more dangerous people than Miles. I couldn't imagine what would happen next if this chemical wasn't destroyed soon. I had to get rid of it, and the only possible option I could see so far to do that was make it into the aquarium this weekend.

"Hey," Miles' voice made me jump, cutting off my thoughts. He spun around and faced me, walking backwards. Then he smiled. "Watch this."

He turned back around. A restaurant with a small outdoor eating area was coming up on our right and a group of cackling people that looked to be around forty were seated around a table, close to a fence that separated the part of the restaurant from the street. A lady had just sat down, fresh from inside holding a large, styrofoam cup. She was just about to drink it, holding it up, when we passed by and Miles leaned over the fence, quickly snatching the cup from her grasp.

He laughed and took off running immediately. I had had no idea what he had been planning, so it took a few seconds for me to start running after him. I glanced back. The lady looked stunned before she turned in her chair and jabbed a finger at me. "You...children! Come back here!" she yelled, her fellow friends at her table, hands over their mouths in shock.

This just made me run faster, catching up with Miles who was gripping the cup tightly in his hand. He was laughing, his face all bright from his little idea. The drink began fizzing up from the straw and I couldn't help but chuckle too.

"Don't let it spill!" I warned through my growing grin. It wasn't a big deal, but the drink just kept seeping out so we slowed down and Miles took a sip from the cup, still laughing.

"What is it?" I asked, once he took a gulp. He scrunched up his nose then and studied the cup, shrugging.

"Nothing good, that's all I know," he replied with a shake of his head, "probably wasn't worth it." He held the drink out to me. "Wanna sip?"

"No thanks," I said quietly, then broke out laughing again, cheeks hurting. "You owe her a drink now," I told him.

He cursed and turned to me with a serious look, "No way. You heard her, we're children. We're not supposed to talk to strangers," he joked, another one of his smiles forming as he was unable to keep a straight face. He put his tattooed hand in his pocket and let out a little laugh.

"Right," I mumbled, looking down at my sneakers with a grin still plastered on. As I strolled along the street, I realized I hadn't actually laughed like I had tonight since before my parents disappeared three months ago. I'd forgotten how nice it was to feel this way, and as I looked over at Miles who was facing forward again, I found that maybe he wasn't as bad as he seemed.

Yeah, he instigated the fights he had with Reeves and made me go in the worker building alone, but right now I saw something different in Miles. Right now, he was harmless.

He caught me staring again, though I couldn't even remember how or when I'd started. He didn't say anything this time, but I saw him smirk and look away. Our shoes splashed in the leftover rain puddles as we trekked back to the apartment building, the reflection of the neon lights glinting in the water rippling outwards.