“No!” she shrieked. “Don’t you hang up your phone until I’m standing right in front of you!”

I had to admit, her insistence was endearing. “Okay, I’ll stay on the phone. But at least put yours on speaker and put it in your lap, or in a cup holder or whatever.”

“Okay. My phone is in my lap. Keep talking.”

“Ahh, do I recite poetry now?”

“If you’ve got anything memorized.”

“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe…”

“What language is that?” She giggled.

“English?”

“Are you sure?” She sounded like she was smiling.

“Yeah. It’s the Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll. I had to memorize that shit in the seventh grade. Wanna hear the rest?”

“Do you know the translated version?”

“No,” I chuckled. “But it’s about some kid who slays a crazy dragon. It’s pretty ridiculous.”

“What, slaying a dragon?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s not ridiculous. Isn’t that what you do all the time? Slay dragons?”

I shook my head. “Not the last time I checked.”

“What do you mean? Remember Big Foot? That hairy biker guy at that coffee shop in Pacific Beach? Xanadu? The guy who tried to kidnap me so he could mate with me and make missing link babies?”

“Oh yeah. That guy was like the cyclops from legend or some shit. If I remember correctly, he only had one eye. Didn’t that guy have a pirate eye patch?” I chuckled.

“No! He only had one eye, in the center of his forehead!” Samantha squealed with laughter. “Can you imagine a cyclops with a pirate eye patch? He’d be blind and running around in circles!”

“I hear pirate cyclops only ever wear ear patches,” I quipped.

“Ear patches?” Samantha laughed.

“Christos?” a voice asked from behind me.

I turned to face whoever it was. What a surprise. “Hey, Kamiko. What up?”

“What?” Sam asked on the phone.

Kamiko wore an SDU sweatshirt, sweatpants, and her hair in a sexy knot at the back of her head. A book bag was slung over her shoulder. She looked at me curiously, “What are you doing up here?”

“Enjoying the view,” I said casually, flashing a dimpled grin at her.

“Are you talking to Kamiko?” Samantha asked.

“Yeah,” I said to the phone.

Kamiko asked, “I’m sorry, are you on the phone? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No worries,” I said to Kamiko. To Samantha, I said, “Hey, can you hold on a second?”

I suddenly remembered Samantha telling me about what happened with her and Kamiko when they went to visit Brandon at Charboneau Gallery to show him Kamiko’s work. Poor Kamiko. From the sound of the story, Brandon had been a many-quilled prickupine. I sensed an opportunity to work some of my magic. Helping other people always put me in a good mood.

“How come you’re up so late?” I asked Kamiko.

“I was studying O Chem with my friend. We just finished.”

“Are you going back to your room?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“You want me to walk you?”

“Sure,” she smiled.

“Cool. Let me tell my buddy I’ll call him back.” To Samantha I said, “Hey, I’m gonna walk my friend to her dorm room. Can I call you back later, bro?”

“Christos,” Samantha said in my ear, “tell Kamiko I’m sorry about what happened with Brandon.”

“Yeah, totally,” I said to Samantha, “as soon as I get a new wet suit, we’ll totally carve some waves. Later, bro.”

“Christos!” Samantha chirped in my ear. “Wait! Don’t hang up!”

I hung up my phone and smiled at Kamiko. We walked toward the elevators across the hall from the balcony.

When the elevator door opened, I motioned with my arm, “After you.”

“Thank you,” Kamiko grinned and stepped inside.

After the elevator ride, I walked Kamiko along the dark pathway between Nyyhmy and Paiute Hall.

“How’s the painting coming along?” I asked. “You still working on submissions for Brandon’s Contemporary Artists Show?”

She stuck her tongue out and groaned. “Ugh. I don’t even want to hear that name. Brandumb is so meh.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Brandumb?”

“Yeah,” she shivered. “Just saying it makes me want to gag.”

We stopped in front of the double doors to Paiute while Kamiko dug her keys out of her bag.

I raised an eyebrow. “What happened to you being the gung ho painting ninja?”

She brightened. “Oh, I’m still totally the painting ninja.” She suddenly spun around and snapped a back kick at me, stopping her foot two inches from my chest.

“Look out! Ninja alert,” I chuckled. “Did you study martial arts at some point?”

“Yeah, I studied shotokan when I was in grade school. It was the only way I could stop my brothers from beating me up,” She grinned. “They called me the Kamiko Kid.”

“What, like the Karate Kid? Your brothers called you that?”

“Yup. But I didn’t study with Mr. Miyagi. The guy who trained me was Mexican.” She lowered her leg and pivoted forward, punching me in the stomach.

I tightened my abs automatically. Her tiny hand met solid muscle.

“Ow!” She yelped.

“Don’t be messing with the man of steel,” I joked. I could tell she wasn’t trying to hit me very hard, but she had put some power behind it. “Nice right hand. Much better than your Karate Kid reference,” I quipped.

She wrinkled her nose. “Do I have to crane kick you in the chin, mister? Because I will.”

I towered over her. “You’re going to need an airlift.”

“Fine! I’ll go for your shins.” She snapped a kick at my shins but I hopped back, out of range. “Let that be a lesson,” she warned.

“Easy, Bruce Lee. I apologize.” I smiled at her.

“Don’t try to be cute,” she grinned.

“Hey, I’m using the only defense I have left before you beat my ass.” I winked at her. “But seriously, are you still working on any paintings?”

“Hells yeah! Even if Brandumb is a total jerk, I’m going to get one of my paintings into his stupid Contemporary Artists Show, just to show him I can.”

I nodded approvingly at her. “I take it you’re over him?”

“Screw him,” Kamiko snarled. “I’m too good for that stupid snake charmer! I refuse to live my life as a mopey dick-whipped chick any longer. I am woman! Hear me paint!” She stomped her foot for effect.

I grinned and chuckled, “I’ll tell Brandon to run the other way when he sees you coming or you’ll go Hunger Games on his ass.”

“That’s a great idea! I totally need to carry a bow and arrow!”

“Next time I see him, I’ll pin a bull’s eye to his ass so you’ll have something to aim at.”

“Who are you going to pin a bull’s eye on?” Samantha asked, walking around the corner toward me and Kamiko.

I flashed a conspiratorial grin at Samantha.

Kamiko frowned, looking between the two of us. “Hey! You guys tricked me!” She leered at me, both her eyes turned up to full stink. “That was Sam on the phone earlier, wasn’t it, Christos?” she asked in an accusatory tone.

“Maybe,” I smiled coyly.

SAMANTHA

“We trapped you, Kamiko,” I said, a big smile on my face. “Now you have to listen to my apology. For the millionth time.”

Kamiko folded her arms across her chest. “No, I refuse.” She scowled at Christos. “Traitor. Now I can’t trust either of you guys.”

Christos chuckled.

Oddly, all of my fears about Christos evaporated the moment I’d seen him chatting with Kamiko. Whatever I’d been worried about seemed crazy now. Christos looked like he was in a good mood. Regular old Christos. Why had I been so worried?

“Do you guys need a moment alone?” Christos asked. “For some naughty girl time?”

“Do you want to watch?” I blurted. “We charge admission. A hundred bucks a head for front row seats.”

Christos pulled his wallet out and held up a bunch of twenties. “I’ve got cash to spare, ladies. Where’s the nearest mud-filled kiddie pool?”

I giggled, “I’m game if you are, Kamiko.”