“Please,” I replied, sitting down and smiling. Stephen poured two generous flutes of bubbles, handed one to me and then sat down. The lights dimmed ever so slightly and the first melodic notes of the 'concerto for two violins in A minor' were played, hitting all of my five senses in such a way I’d never experienced before.Stephen leaned over and spoke in a low whisper. “You look exquisite tonight, by the way. I like your hair down, you should wear it that way more often, you look like a woman from a pre-raphaelite painting with those curls.”“I thought my appearance was just so-so? You told me ‘that’ll do’ in the lobby.”Smugly, Stephen shrugged. “I didn’t want to give you cause to be vain or add to your already over-inflated pride and ego,” he mocked.“Over-inflated pride and ego?” I hissed, louder than I had intended. From down below, people looked up at us angrily. Arrogantly, I thought of them as plebes in the cheap seats.“Sssshhhhh,” Stephen said, smiling to himself, having. All things considering, John seemed to be handling his misery quite well. He still seemed normal in class, he still answered whenever the teacher called him to recite, he still worked in groups without any fuss, he still talked to people and still seemed able to smile…in fact aside from his apparent decrease in overall cheerfulness, there seemed to be hardly anything observably wrong with him, except how he treated William. The most that can be said was that John still interacted with William. He still answered William whenever he was asked anything, he still worked fine with William when it came to pair seatmate works, and whenever he was in their group of friends that included William, he still laughed and reacted as if William was indeed there. No, the problem wasn’t that John stopped talking to William, the problem was that John didn’t talk to him enough. The younger boy’s usual warmth had just up and vanished when it came to talking or just about anything they had to do.
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