This one might be the longest chapter :O

Oh, and if you get halfway through this and are like "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" just keep reading. But the end of it, I promise: I'll have explained everything that I seem to just leave off on.


"You ever read the manual?" I ask Lainey the next day as we touch down in New York City in the 6 o'clock morning hour. The sun is breaking over the tops of skyscrapers, splintering off into beams and reflections that guide the sluggish working mass to their destinations and us to ours.

"What manual?" she responds, eagle eyes looking for the dazed expression of our target.

"The handbook Cupid gave us," I rephrase.

She laughs. "I'm guessing you just found it. Yeah, I read it."

"I have a couple-"

"Don't."

Her blatant rejection halts me. "What?"

I can imagine her rolling her eyes as she turns to me and pulls me along the sidewalks filled with humans who have no clue we exist. "Cupid told me you'd come around looking for answers. He told me to tell you to stop trying to take the easy way out and just read the damn thing. It's 150 pages, and half of it is pictures and diagrams."

"Or, we could just say 'Screw this', flip a table, and you can be my most favorite person in the world."

She gives me a warning glare. Jeez, women are scary with the eyes. I shake my head and pull myself free. "What are you doing now?" she asks, picking up on the mood. I sit down and take Cupid's handbook out. "You can't be serious. Lenny, we have stuff to do. I don't want to miss quota because you're going on some strike."

"It's not a strike," I insist, looking up at her full in the face. Maybe I can do it too; make people see my intensity and bend to it. Lainey shifts to the side, redistributing her weight. "I'll read the damn book. But I'm reading it now. So you can sit with me, or make quota. Whatever you choose, it's fine. But I'm not moving."

Lainey's shoulders slump and she looks around helplessly before melting into a pile next to me. "I'm never getting home," she mutters discontentedly.

"I'm a fast reader," I assuage her fears.

45 minutes later, I interrupt Lainey's game of Fruit Ninja by standing suddenly. She rushes to get to her feet, but I still her with a hand on her shoulder. She sees something on my face and understands, offering a warm smile.

"I guess I got the rest of this, then," she shrugs, running to meet our target. Wherever they are, they've been sitting there for a while. Me, I tell my Navi's to go home. I've only got one question for Cupid this time.

...

"Thank for you not breaking anything today," Cupid remarks cheerfully. "I believe it's the first time you haven't since I first brought you up here."

"Yeah, I was thinking about that," I admit, dropping my bag in the foyer and coming closer. Cupid was anticipating me. He has a plush armchair in the middle of the room and he's taking enjoyment in smoking a pipe. "I'm sure you know what I'm doing here."

"I have a very good guess," he allows.

"You're a really sneaky bastard, you know that?"

"And you're sweeter than you look."

I can't stop a huge smile from forming. "You're impossible."

"Glad to have earned such a title." He leans back and puffs. " 'Impossible'. What an accomplishment."

"So, have I earned the right to a question?" I ask.

He holds up a finger. "For all the stress you put me through, just one."

" 'Pick wisely' and all that," I mumble under my breath. "Alright. This one I have a feeling I'm not going to be able to figure out on my own. And I have a feeling you're going to be a complete ass about it and give me a roundabout answer, so just give me a hint: why pick me, out of the thousands of other L.C.'s in the U.S.? You could've picked a girl. In the handbook, there's no rule that says the pairing has to be boy-girl. You could've had your pick of all the handsome and pretty people and the all that ones who would actually give a damn about what you say." I smile at that last part. "So come on. Help me out a little. I'm real curious."

Cupid lowers his pipe from his lips and gives me a wicked stare, challenging me before he even speaks. Up to this point, I'd never realized how devious Cupid really was. "Forced rehab."

"That's what I thought," I roll my eyes. I'm suddenly smiling a whole lot, because yet again I show my teeth. Picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder, I call back: "I have stuff to do, you old geezer."

"See you tomorrow," he accepts my goodbye.

I fall back to earth, feeling pretty good for someone descending at 3,200 feet per second.

...

It makes sense, really. So much sense that I wonder how I'm in AP classes if I couldn't figure out this little snag in the fishing line I call my life. I land in front of my school and taking off my wristband, checking the time. 7:20 a.m. Perfect. I wander the ghostly halls, trusting my instincts and my memory. I step into room A-14 and feel bubbles of nervousness travel up to my throat. Anri is at her desk, writing. Her short black hair is fanned out, hiding her features. For a moment, I falter. For a split-second, I'm unsure. Then I step forward and sit at the desk directly in front of her. She lifts her head, surprised.

"Lenny." She's wearing a delicate pair of glasses. I wasn't aware that she even wore contacts. "Hi."

"Hey," I reply, deciding not to rush into things.

She picks up where I leave off. "Didn't expect to see you until the afternoon. What are you here for?"

"Well, see, I was in a pretty crappy mood the other day."

A knowing smile curves her lips. "Oh?"

"Yes. And as I recall, you were absent yesterday."

"I had a doctor's appointment."

"Perfectly reasonable."

She puts down her pencil and closes her notebook, giving me the full impact of her stare. She's enjoying our chat. "But you want me to make up for it."

"Yes," I nod. "Because, as luck would have it, I was feeling pretty horrid about an hour ago too."

"Well, that's a problem." She reaches into her bag and returns with two shining wrappers of chocolatey goodness. "I'll have to try and make up for it."

She drops the two pieces in my outstretched hand. I weigh them; toss them in the air and let out a sigh. "Hmm. Actually, I don't think it can be fixed like this. Here's what I'll do. I'll eat this one…" I take one away and put it on the desk, leaving just a single heart. "…And let's do a little imagining about this one."

"Okay?" she giggles, content to play along.

"Let's say this is an invitation."

"Alright."

"Don't you normally open invitations before agreeing to them?" I tease her.

"Fine," she laughs, taking it from my hand and opening it.

"Well, what's it say?" I question.

She pops the chocolate in her mouth and chews it before answering. " 'Close your eyes and relax.' "

I raise an eyebrow. "Well?"

She rolls her eyes. "Weirdo." The she closes them.

I lean over and give her a kiss.

Instantly, her eyes fly open. I back up and she processes things for a moment. "What…" She takes a breath and tries it again. "What would you have done if it said something stupid like 'Take a bubble bath'? That was too perfect."

"I have a guy on the inside," I laugh.

"Oh, really," she smirks, leaning toward me. "How's that work."

"Well, you see," I whisper conspiratorially, "I work for Cupid."

"Must be nice. You get to shoot whomever you like in the back."

"Mm, not quite. Because see, if I did that, it would be unfair. I was naturally confused about the whole thing-'Well, does that mean I never get to fall in love?'-and then I finally read the manual."

"The manual," she humors me.

"Yup. There's a bunch of rules and guidelines when you work for Cupid. It turns out that he does a sneaky little trick where he sends out Dove chocolates to whomever I'm supposed to be with. Then those chocolates get passed to me. And eventually, that person and I end up together."

"That's a bold theory," she says in a hushed voice.

"But isn't it true that I'm the only one you give these chocolates to?" I reply just as quietly. Her laugh proves me right. "It's a pretty good story, though, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I'd say it is," she agrees, threading her fingers through mine. "I have to say, I didn't expect my day to go like this."

"Me either," I shrug.

"Did you do the Physics homework?" she questions.

"You know I didn't."

"Come on, I'll let you copy it."

"How generous of you."

"Don't get used to it," she advises with a wink, tapping my nose with the end of her pencil.

I can't help but grin like a lovestruck idiot because, well, that's what I've been reduced to. And I don't even mind. I don't care that Cupid pulled the wool over my eyes. I don't mind that gold flowers might not be real, or that Cupid only picked me because I was a surly brat who needed a lesson in caring about other people. Anri passes me her worksheet and all I care about is her lovely eyes on me.


WHOO HOO! Hope everything came out in the wash :D Tell me what you guys thought, 'kay? Last chapter is up next.

PetalsFromTheForest