“Are you not dressed yet?” he huffed peeking into my apartment scouring it for our other friends.“I thought everyone said to meet at seven?” I...asked quizzically walking back into the bathroom. “We can chill here until everyone shows up.” I grabbed a piece of hair, running the straightener over it while admiring his black button down shirt as he stood propped against the door. “You know there's coffee in there if you want some.” Adhering to his addiction to coffee amused me. John was six years. A neglected fire guttered in the small fireplace.The elder Mr. Brookes entered with a distinct limp, shook Beall's hand and poked at the fire. "Damn cold weather gets in my bones, Mr. Beall. How can I help you today?" Sir," Beall began, "your son and I have had, well he may have told you that the last time I was here, we had an argument and I struck him."Brookes' eyebrows rose and fell twice. "My, no he did not tell me. He said that you had been rude to him, and I replied that I doubted it very. More

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