How Monica and Nichole Met Part 1

So this part I imagine happening a few months after Nichole's incident

The F-Team

Mission: How Nichole and Monica Met

            The party was stupid and boring and nobody was within ten years of her age. It was all old, rich, snobby people and their incredibly young and annoying grandchildren, not that she would have been much more enthusiastic about the situation if there were people her age around. Monica strode out to the front yard by herself; away from the fancy party her parents had forced her to attend with them. Yes, she knew it was the dead of night and incredibly cold outside but it was her only alternative to being around people.

           The wind whipped at the hem of the black cocktail dress her mother had forced her to wear and her hair blew into her eyes, getting caught in her glasses, as she stepped out the front door. She was a little dismayed by what surrounded her. There was a beautiful garden, filled with breathtaking fountains and exotic flowers of every kind and color that only increased in beauty in the moonlight, but that was not what caught her off guard. There were streetlights and other houses and civilization in general. Growing up in a rural part of the area had made her sensitive to these things, as they were such a rarity near her home.

          Monica walked down to the curb and glanced up and down the street amazed by the proximity of the other houses. While she was adjusting to the seemingly bizarre situation, she noticed a small figure suddenly appear under a streetlamp down the block. Initially, she thought the person just appeared small because of distance but as the figure approached it became clear that this was a rather small person. A young girls face peeked out from underneath the hood on the approaching figure. Though the girl was young she wasn’t much younger than Monica, who was only fifteen at the time.

          The girl looked up as she approached and glared at Monica who stood directly in her path. She slowed to a stop as she approached and neither girl said a word for several very long, tense moments as each girl stared into the others eyes hoping to catch a glimpse of motive or reasoning. As it became clear to Monica that the girl would not speak without provocation, she tried to think of something to say in the way of a greeting.

           “Why are you standing out here in the cold by yourself just staring at nothing?” the girl said in a polite but edgy and somewhat demanding voice. The question frightened her, mostly because she did not expect the girl to speak.

           “I-I umm, well, I don’t know really.” Monica’s voice could barely be heard above the wind but the girl understood her no problem. “What about you?’ Monica spat back in a failed attempt at wit and originality, but at least with more conviction than before.

           “It doesn’t matter,” the girl growled softy as she shifted her jacket o reveal the handle of a gun sticking from the waistband of her jeans. Instead of being frightened by the gesture as the girl had intended, a twisted sort of grin began to erupt from Monica’s face. She took a step back and a full-blown smile appeared.

          “Wanna see something really cool?” Monica inquired already knowing she wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. “Can I see a single bullet?” she added, again not prepared to accept a negative answer.  The girl pulled the gun from her waistband reluctantly but with some subtle signs of excitement bubbling around her eyes.

             Monica took the bullet as the girl proffered it and knelt down on the ground, dumping a collection of seemingly useless crap from the small handbag she was carrying onto the cement sidewalk. The girl knelt down as well trying to get a better look at what was being done but Monica was bend over her hands working intently for a few moments before sitting back up and returning most of the assortment of junk of the ground to her purse, except for a few paper gum wrappers, a box of matches, the now empty bullet casing and a strange dark paste the had appeared on the ground suddenly.

            “Stand back and watch this.” Monica grinned maniacally as she struck a match and lit the gum wrappers stuck in the black goo. The display of pyrotechnics was amazing for only a few short moments of work. Red and orange sparks shot four feet into the air, sizzling and popping for several minutes before finally petering out in a multicolored final fizzle. “That was louder than I expected” Monica said with a sense of anti-climax.

            “Can you show me how to do that?” The girl asked with a bit of a nervous edge to her voice. Before Monica could respond though, she noticed the girl jerk stiffly and suddenly. Monica glanced over her shoulder and saw a cop car rolling slowly down the street. Without a word, Monica began to walk back toward the mansion-esque house from whence she had come. The girl took the hint and began to continue on her path as well but before either girl made it more than a few feet Monica jumped back around ad asked hesitantly, “Do you have a name?”

            The girl smiled softly and responded, with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes, “Nichole.”