Spring Winds [reserved]

[annabelle madeline northbrook]

Annabelle's hair whipped in the wind, her beret almost toppling off her head. The morning sky was still dark and laden with white stars, it must have been around four in the morning. A slightly warm spring wind flew through the rooftops, the first hints of warmer weather to come. That's why she chose a long sleeve top for this excursion, although the bitter chill of late winter was gone, it was not nearly warm enough for short sleeves at four o'clock.

It was almost as if they school didn't care if students came up here. Rusted, old warning signs were plastered everywhere on the way up but the roof itself was relatively free of such things. A sea of trees rustled below, the air whistling between stray leaves and hardened trunks. The moon was white and bright in the sky, illuminating a pathway through leaves and other debris that had scattered all over the roof. It seemed she was not the only person that enjoyed trekking to the rooftops of Mille Feuille.

There was a crunch of leaves underneath her shoes as Annabelle walked down the long stretch of rooftop. At the end, a wall of white brick blocked her way. Gloved hands gripped the cold stone as Annabelle peeked over. To her surprise, there was a small stretch of roof continuing from there, made of black shingles rather than white brick. It must be the roof of one of the dorms. They all have black shingle roofing. It was then Annabelle vaulted over the low obstruction, landing softly on the other side.

The view from the dorm roof was better. The lake, previously obstructed by trees was now clearly visible and glittering an onyx black in the moonlight. It was a peaceful, serene sight. As much as Annabelle preferred the indoors, she did need a break once and a while, especially since her privacy was invaded due to a new roommate. Annabelle sat down, surprisingly comfortable against the thick shingles. The wall was at her back, supporting the tired muscles over-exerted from climbing to the topmost floor of the school. A low sigh escaped her lips. It was a Sunday today, and school was out. No doubt students would be out socializing in a few hours after the sun came up. From her vantage point, she could observe all of them without ever having to take part in it.

Tucked into her back pocket was a small pack of cards. Annabelle grabbed them, and set them out before her. There was nothing wrong with a good game of solitaire on the rooftops while the sun rose.

[skylar jude elison]

[/i].

Skylar looked up, his eyes lined with red, gleaming in the semi darkness. There was no way to turn on every light with his dorm mates sleeping peacefully around him, and in any case there was no way he could disturb them by rooting through his suitcase full of books with a flashlight in tow. He wasn't eight anymore. The only way to deal with nightmares now was like any adult did; repress his emotions with coffee and a brisk walk.
Skylar cautiously lifted himself out of bed, careful to plant his bare feet quietly upon the hardwood floor. He was cold in the absence of sleep, and it showed as goosebumps prickled upon his soft skin, dotting it witch tiny bumps. Skylar wrapped his arms around himself as he walked to the dressing rooms, blinking images from his dreams furiously away from his mind.

After dressing in something much more casual than he usual dared to wear, Skylar grabbed his old mp3 player and shoved it in his pocket. The boy carefully set headphones upon his ears, turning the music up as loud as was possibly bearable as he exited the room. Skylar shut the door softly; the clock beside his nightstand glowed 3:17.
He walked the halls of Mille-feuille, not expecting to be caught by patrolling teachers and not particularly caring if he did. Skylar's hands remained in his pockets, his vivid eyes searching around the empty rooms, curiously observing the ancient architecture. His dark hair was splayed out around him, floating upon his shoulders, the white blond streak at the crown of his head shocking in the soft night filtering through the window. The boy let his gaze fall, eyes closed off from the world, finding peace in the dreamlike words of Revolver:

Because the sky is blue, it makes me cry
Because the sky is blue.......aaaaaaaahhhh

Skylar whispered along with the words, his feet carrying him up stairs, down corridors, anywhere and everywhere, far enough away to escape his mind. When he opened his eyes once more, he was facing a rusty ladder. He looked up, music blaring. It led up to a latch, which most likely led to a door, where Skylar assumed it led up to the top of the school. The boy looked around; this must be the tower floor, a place Skylar didn't visit often. He shrugged, smiling slightly. Well, he'd gone this far, hadn't he?
The boy grasped onto the rusted handles and climbed up, making quite a racket in the hollow corridor (though he was not aware of this, thanks to the loudness of his music). He was quite correct; the journey led from a latch to a door, and out into the sweet, fresh and slightly bitterly cold air outside. The wind tore at him as he shut the door, the sound muffled beneath the wind's cries.

Skylar shivered in the night air; it was certainly warmer than it could be, hinting at the gradual loss of the brutal winter that had plagued the school for months. However, his thin frame allowed the breeze to whip right through him, not stopping at his bones and continuing all the way trough the boy's body. He opened his eyes wide against the wind, scanning the world around him. At first, it seemed deserted except for the company of dead leaves, rusted signs and the stars above. Skylar's gaze scanned further, and with a pang of excitement, recognized another figure. His eyes widened as the dark body jumped over the white brick wall, far away from Skylar. He nearly shouted out, taking a step forward as if to catch the person. He knew the figure to be too far away to save, but his inner protective instincts would not allow for this painful reality.

The boy began running against the wind, nearly slipping on the crunchy leaves beneath his feet as he sprinted to the white wall. His legs trembled; he spread his arms out to keep from falling, his heart pounding with adrenaline and an incredibly exhilarating sort of fear pulsing through his veins. He wanted to make sure the other person was alright; they looked around school age, and he doubted that there were very many other people who visited these rooftops who would be able to help the person besides himself.

Skylar nearly launched himself over the brick wall in his exuberance; the solid surface bounced upon his lower torso, knocking the wind out of him as he slumped over the rough ivory surface with an oomph. His hair fell over his eyes and his headphones fell forward off his ears, the sound of the night air whooshing into Skylar's mind with a crash. Everything was very painful and very real to Skylar; he thought he tasted blood. He realized after tender exploration of his mouth he had bit the soft pink inner flesh of his lower lip when he hit the wall. Cursing himself, the boy lifted up his head, remembering his first priority; to make sure the other student was alright.

A wave of relief came over him at the sight of the girl sitting upon the tiled roof below him. It wasn't really that far of a drop; if he had known the area of the rooftops better, he certainly wouldn't have worried. Alas, what was done was done. He smiled; blood coated the gumline of his lower teeth.
"You certainly gave me a scare," he said to the girl, now moving tender limbs to ease himself over the wall. He was careful to move to the side as to not step over her, for she was leaning up against the wall he had just run into. He winced slightly but covered this up with a grin, his hair flipping down into his eyes. Once over the brick, Skylar reached up a hand to sweep away his dark locks. He continued to stand on the uneven slope, letting himself catch his breath.

"I thought you'd just jumped off the damned building!" Skylar laughed, holding a hand to his stinging abdomen. He was glad she was okay. Or... was she a he? Skylar couldn't tell; the student had an androgynous look, though they could look reasonably attractive as either gender.
Skylar smiled, crouching on his knees to meet the other person's eye level. The music coming from his headphones was soft background noise under the breeze, a whisper from the stars above. Suddenly, Skylar rolled his eyes back and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Forgive me, I haven't explained myself at all, really." the boy said, his voice a smooth melody dancing beneath the wind, coated with breathlessness. He looked back near the entrance to the rooftop, and then back at Annabelle, his face bright in the morning. "I saw you jump," he elaborated, "over the wall, I mean. Though I didn't know there was something on the other side." The boy coughed, knowing his weak lungs were still recovering. He hadn't smoked a cigarette since he was fourteen, but the damage had already been done and he simply had to live with it.

"It was quite stupid of me, to be perfectly honest, running over here," he laughed sweetly, tilting his head to the side in a curious manner which made his expression comparable to that of an inquisitive puppy. "I apologize, you're probably quite annoyed with me, a stranger who cannot keep his mouth shut." He now regretted the feeling that he had simply barged in upon her; however, Skylar was a bit more energetic than he usually was from the exhiliratiion of sprinting across the length of the school. He hoped he hadn't been a terrible intrusion; he understood the need for solitude and the annoyance of disruption. He smiled nervously. Skylar was not usually this talkative, but felt a sudden urge to explain himself.[/ul]

[annabelle madeline northbrook]

One thin eyebrow raised at the sudden intrusion followed by a snort. "Kill myself? Not likely." The girl didn't look up from her game until a seemingly impossible situation in the cards presented itself. To her dismay, a boy, all bloodied up sat grinning adjacent to her. "You really shouldn't do such reckless things." Her face was still stained in disbelief. So much for my alone time, I suppose. A strand of hair tickled her nose in the wind, the girl tried to blow it away but the strand continued to plague her. A few seconds later, a small finger tucked it behind her ear in the hopes that it would stay there.

"It was more of a vault," Annabelle reasoned, "if I had been trying to kill myself, I would have probably been much more dramatic about it. Probably would have stood on the edge and wailed for a few seconds." She looked back down to the cards. The impossible problem nagging at the back of her mind became solved; the cards made sense now. She could have moved the second column. How could she not have seen such an obvious answer? Annabelle was worried that her mental state was declining with every passing minute.

The boy himself seemed tolerable. He was not particularly manly looking, nor did he have Aaron's haughty demeanor. Perhaps this was one of the few boys she could actually be near for more than a few seconds without wishing to bash her head against the wall repeatedly. He looked casual and was wearing headphones, a dim music sounded but Annabelle could not make anything out as the boy was downwind from her. A bit of sheepishness crossed his features, another definite sign that he was nothing like her unfortunate first encounter. His voice was definitely pleasant to listen to, nothing like the guttural groans most boys and men posessed.

"I'm not particularly annoyed." She looked up from the cards again. "Initially, I was up here for alone time." She blinked slowly, choosing her words carefully. "It seems that's not possible now. That is fine." Skylar was not annoying her in any way and was not a huge nuisance. The fact he tried to save her seemed completely lost on her.

"I don't like to be down there. That's why I'm up here. " Annabelle gestured with her head to the grounds below. "Too many people. Too much idle chatter." One of the main reasons Annabelle was not annoyed was because this talk was not idle chatter- like the situation in the dorm. Annabelle hated talking, but that was because talking usually entailed such subjects as school and the weather. Stupid, stupid subjects of no use to anyone. "I like to watch people go about their pointless daily lives, though. They give meaning to each little social interaction, each little talk between classes. I find it intolerably stupid." For some reason, the mysterious boy in front of her seemed easy to talk to. "I suppose you could call it entertainment. I get the best vantage point up here. Haha, well, you could even call it spying."

The boy seemed a bit on edge or restless. Annabelle couldn't for the life of her tell which, not that she was concerned. "Erm, why are you up here at this time in the morning?" She had given her reason. It was time for this boy to give her his.

[skylar jude elison]

[annabelle madeline northbrook]

Annabelle gazed curiously at the boy for a few seconds before lowing her eyes almost bashfully. "Erm....I suppose so." She scratched her head confusedly. "But I didn't consider vaulting over a wall to be horribly rash." Her form shifted uncomfortably. It was not like she would have just vaulted. Of course she looked over first. To avoid doing so would endanger her life, something that Annabelle was not prepared to do. Her eyes glanced up to momentarily look upon the distant lake, still glimmering softly in the moonlight streaming through snake-like gray clouds. Light blue eyes then flicked to the shingles below as she spoke, occasionally shifting to the corners to inspect the boy in front of her.

The boy himself was probably her age, maybe younger. He was definitely not old looking, and yet at the same time possessed an odd worldliness in the way he spoke. It was almost as if he had seen things that should not have been seen, but who was she to guess? Perhaps he was just smart. He was decidedly boyish as well, possessing a feminine curve to his cheeks but still keeping with the typical teenage male body, if far too thin. Not that many people at this school possess a particularly manly appearance. This boy was no exception.

Leave it to Annabelle to be concerned with appearances. It was almost as if she didn't want to bother looking deeper, as if it was too much effort and generally yielded no results. If there were results, it only angered and annoyed Annabelle. At one point, she had a few friends and having to talk to them all the time put her ill-at-ease and stressed. Trying to maintain conversation, especially idle, did nothing but stress her out.

Tonight was different. The words spilled easily from her mouth, as there was no expectation here. Either of them could leave without major repercussions, and there was no friendship on the line. No social link needed to be maintained, there was no need to be false and force herself to talk. Speaking of which, the boy had opened his mouth again. She listened to his words silently. "A tortured monologue, eh." Annabelle nodded, still far too interested in the rough black of the shingles below her. "That's a good way to put it." Her hand gravitated to her beret, which threatened to blow off in the wind. "And no need to apologize. It was simply luck that we stumbled upon each other."

The boy seemed hesitant to look at her at times. Annabelle could not help but wonder why. He was no different than many other people who did the same thing, probably because Annabelle could seem unapproachable at times. At least, that is the only way I can justify this behaviour. Her train of thought was almost scientific in nature, detachedly analyzing and never getting too attached to her subject matter. It was not as if the reactions of people offended her, she had grown used to it and took it as just another thing in life she would have to deal with.

The boy's nice nature disturbed Annabelle deeply. Her face was a mask of confusion before she lowered her head, her face framed completely by hair. Why was he being so nice? She was not being particularly personable, almost as if withdrawing from social interaction was some sort of ingrained defense mechanism. It was safer to withdraw and not be hurt or bored than to put oneself out there, vulnerable, a sitting duck for the crueler, meaner people inhabiting the world. Her opinion on humans matched that behavior: so many were seemingly stupid and intolerable, drifting lazily from day to day without thinking, concerned always with the stupid little things and no worthwhile long-term goals in mind. They were concerned only with emotions, rarely thinking things through, preferring instead to go for instant gratification rather than logical thought. It made Annabelle sick.

A small laugh escaped her pursed lips suddenly, seeming almost alien to her. It did not match her at all, and probably sounded oddly out of place. It hung heavy in the air, making Annabelle uneasy at her sudden display of emotion. A polite cough cleared her throat, as if she was trying to make herself forget the sudden action. "I prefer thinking of myself as a small dot in a big world. I find that more comforting." Her face lifted and looked into the distance. "There's less expectations and I find that being realistic prevents an overinflated ego." Aaron's smirking face flooded her mind and Annabelle bit back a snort. "I find overinflated egos akin to some sort of sin. There is a difference between that and confidence, after all." A slight tilt of the head focused lazy eyes on the boy with the dark hair. "Confident people built the world, people with zealous ideas and large egos destroyed it." Mostly men.

"You don't find it stupid." It was more of a statement than a question. "That people invest so much effort into something that just flounders off and eventually dies?" A brown eyebrow raised curiously. "It's beautiful? I don't think so. To me, it's as beautiful as grimy streets or roadkill. It is annoying and only gets in my way." She did not verbally elaborate on the statement. Giving so much meaning to little interactions and friendships reminded Annabelle of her past self-- The one she tried her best to avoid and never, ever become. It got in the way of her health and livelihood before. Never will that occur again.

"I like the idea of spectating." A cold smirk tugged at her lips before Annabelle quickly wiped it off. "Everyone has an inferiority complex. Some people buy big cars, or big guns, or big houses to try and drown that feeling." Her eyes misted over and she chose her words carefully. "I suppose...my way of dealing with it is this. Watching people be stupid and feeling superior." There was something oddly hollow in her voice. "It is a sad fact about humanity, that we have such inbred complexes, but a fact nonetheless. I wonder what it is you do to deal with that." The question was casual, not requiring and answer and sounded more like an inward muse.

"I enjoy this conversation." Annabelle blurted out suddenly. A hand flew to her lips before she quickly put it back down. It was times like this Annabelle wished her cap was on her head, so she could hide safely behind the brim. A beret did not suit that purpose. "Ahh...err. Uh." Annabele stumbled a bit. Did I just admit that? To a guy? "It's not idle chatter, I mean."

[skylar jude elison]

[/i], the boy repeated in his mind. He wondered why this girl hadn't used chance to describe the nature of their encounter, but decided not to ask. Skylar supposed he felt the same way; he was lucky to have met this girl with lightning bolt eyes and a quick, cynical tongue. She was easy to talk to; there was no need for forced, polite conversation. They were two kids on a rooftop at four in the morning, for heaven's sake. Why should they feel the need for normal conversation?

The cool night air was gentle in Skylar's throat, though his eyes were rimmed with red and the wind certainly wasn't helping the dryness he felt in them. He knew that when the adrenaline of meeting this new girl wore off, he would be too tired to even drag himself into bed. He wondered if he would be able to sleep here. Hopefully the young lady beside him wouldn't push his slumbering, skinny but heavy with dead weight body off the roof. Skylar nearly laughed at the thought; the girl seemed to have a quick enough temper to allow such a thing. However, he guessed she would be the kind of person to simply move away from his lifeless form, disgusted. She didn't seem too annoyed enough with Skylar to want to roll him off the black shingles they were currently sitting upon, although.

The laugh which came from Annabelle's pale lips was a surprising sound; Skylar did a double take to make sure the laugh had indeed come from the girl beside him, and not from the wind or the trees or any other source.
The laugh did belong to the girl, seeing as she was trying to distract the two of them from it. Skylar looked at her questioningly, curious as to why Annabelle seemed to treat the chuckle as a strange, unexpected visitor. Skylar's own laugh came easy in most situations; it was nothing worth hiding.
The boy listened patiently to the brunette beside him, his vivid blue gaze upon her features as she spoke.

Skylar had been laying with his back upon the roof's shingles, his eyes searching upward to find Annabelle's face beneath the quiet light of the sky above. His arms, having been crossed under his head, stretched out from their spot and planted their palms upon the shingles. He pushed himself up swiftly, soundlessly, an image of black and red.
The boy shook his hair from his eyes (it really was quite overgrown, he would have to start tying it back soon) as he rested his face upon the two knobbly mountains of his knees. Long arms slithered to wrap themselves around Skylar's shins, his jaw pressed up against his knees. The boy's gaze went to Annabelle, connecting his wide, tired eyes with her pale orbs,

"Ego, arrogance, greed, entitlement, are all apples from the same tree. They have destroyed it, yes, and built their own world from what remained. It is a piteous one." Skylar smiled sadly at her, his expressive features bright, all highlights and shadows under the night sky. He sighed, looking down to the ground below the two of them. The grass danced in the breeze caressing its every blade, floundering like coral in the sea, lovely and calm and completely untouchable.
"But one we must take for what it is," said Skylar softly. His words were slightly muffled by the fact one side of his face was partially resting upon his knees.

The boy sat up straighter now, as Annabelle spoke to him again. His eyes were alert, interested, with just a tint of woundedness gracing their brilliant hue.
He suddenly smiled, looking not condescending but perhaps hopeful.
"And who says streets and roadkill cannot be beautiful, or part of something beautiful? It's all perception, really. Yes, humanity is stupid, we are in almost every sense, worthless, and attach far too much value to ourselves. But...once we accept that, we can look beyond the stupidity, the arrogance, the cruelty, and, if you are like me, find beauty." Skylar chuckled with no humor stroking this sound, looking to Annabelle with a world-weary smile. "Sometimes, things are just so fucked up and wrong, I don't know what to do. I don't even know if I want to see all the fucked up shit that's happened and is happening anymore. But just the fact that hope, innocence and every other right thing in the world can exist amidst all this dreadfulness.. makes it beautiful to me." The dark haired boy looked at Annabelle with tired intensity. He knew he was too much of an optimist at times. He could squint at streetlights all he wanted, but it didn't make them stars. But this was something he had to do; when everything was absolute shit around him, all he could really do was smile.

Skylar watched Annabelle as she spoke, her words lacking feeling. Except, perhaps, loneliness. Yes, loneliness and loathing. Skylar wondered if something happened to make her this way. Abandonment, abuse, or a lack of attention.. all things which Skylar could empathize with if they were so. He hadn't recovered from his father's abuse or his mother's death; the scene in the bathroom and the nightmares which plagued him near nightly showed that. He didn't suppose he would ever heal fully; no one ever really does. But everyday he took a step closer to sanity.
Perhaps this girl was just unusually intelligent. Sometimes, with that came the burden of cynicism, and a spiteful, misanthropic view of people, of the world. Either way, Skylar didn't blame the girl for her attitude.

"And some others buy people, not with money, but with the power they hold over these 'weaker beings'. It makes them feel bigger, better to have control over another life. To own, to control, to make someone beg for their very existence or dignity as a person.. it makes them feel good." Skylar's eyes were dead but his words were fire. After a a moment of tense silence, as if coming out of some dark trance, he smiled. He unwrapped the arms encircling his legs and planted his palms upon the rooftop. Leaning back, he gazed at Annabelle. His smile was hollow, dark as he spoke. "But some are content with goldfish," he grinned, trying to push the darkness away. "They are so much easier to feed." He said. The boy knew the joke was lame, but he was trying to ease the gravity of his words; though he was not sure why. He shouldn't need to with this girl. Skylar felt he may have revealed too much of himself, but also, quite strangely, didn't mind this.

"The way you deal with this could be worse. It hurts none to simply watch." His eyes were drawn to the lake in the distance, a sheet of dark glass glittering beneath the stars upon its surface. "I confess that my way of coping isn't.. well, exactly the greatest one." Skylar laughed sadly, without humor. "It often consists of pressing that big red "self-destruct" button a few too many times." The boy's scars were hidden by long sleeves, but he could feel, or perhaps he imagined, the two pale gashes tingling in the cold. His lips were stained with whiskey and his lungs collapsed by smoke; he could hardly chide Annabelle for her way of dealing. At least she wasn't trying to kill herself.

Skylar nearly jumped in surprise as Annabelle spoke once again. His eyes went to her moonlight face, fox-like and sharp, just as she lowered a slender hand from her lips. He smiled at her, a smile without darkness or sadness, but one that brightened his eyes, one imbued with happiness.
"I enjoy it as well," he said, his words soft. He hadn't been thinking about it, but he supposed was enjoying this conversation. The girl was right; it was not idle chatter, something Skylar himself was not fond of, and he guessed this girl wasn't either.
The boy turned to her, pulling his legs to cross one another, sitting in front of Annabelle with his elbows upon his knees. He grinned, his midnight locks to match the sky floating in the breeze, passing in front of his brilliant aqua eyes teasingly.

"I do not believe I know your name, my roof top dwelling acquaintance," Skylar spoke, tilting his head slightly to the side in a curious manner. "I'll give you mine however; I'm Skylar." He bit his lip, a little sheepish, nervous, hoping he wasn't making a fool of himself. "You don't have to give me yours if you don't wish to, of course." He tried to hide his sudden nervousness with a grin. This girl was one of the first he'd met who could make him feel nervous, like an idiot, and who he could also have an intelligent conversation with. It really was luck that he had run into her.[/ul]

[annabelle madeline northbrook]

Gloved hands clenched with a sudden feeling of discomfort as Annabelle shifted slightly, eyes trained on an interesting looking spot in the distant sky. Her teeth bit slightly at her bottom lip, as if she was in some sort of mental pain due to nothing but the current situation. This is ridiculous. I'm talking with a man on equal terms here...I must remember to ask my room-mates if they put anything funny in the water.

The boy beside her appeared to drift in and out of sleep, or perhaps Annabelle's eyes were playing tricks on her. She considered prodding him with one gloved finger for a moment, before quickly deciding against it. "Look, if sleep is what you need, I won't tell anyone you're up here," her voice sounded monotone and heavy in the atmosphere. "Although missing class because you're up on the roof this late is something I advise against." Sleep did not seem to tug at Annabelle's eyes, instead the wind seemed to keep her as awake as she'd ever been.

The boy sat up suddenly, resting his head upon his knees. He almost looked like a girl. Idiot, she chastised herself, you know he's not. He appeared to be struggling to keep his eyes open. Annabelle scoffed. I don't understand what could possibly be the reasoning behind his being up here right now. She decided against voicing her thoughts out loud, instead choosing to listen as the boy spoke.

"Mmm." Annabelle mulled over his words, eyes still trained to somewhere in the distance. "I suppose roadkill may be beautiful to you if you are into guro or something," She blinked, then turned to the boy, completely serious. "I can't say it's an aesthetic I share, unfortunately." Her fists unclenched, a couple fingers tapping absent-mindedly on the shingles. "I suppose I can't say I'm like you in that regard, then. " Her lips upturned into a cold smile, not directed at the boy, but at something she could not place. "You could say...that it's a flaw of mine. A blatant refusal to find beauty in anything, for fear of..." Becoming attached. Loving. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts.

"You appear to have no interest in that, in the buying of people's feelings and hearts, however they chose to do so," Annabelle stated matter-of-factly, "nor am I. "At the comment about the goldfish, the coldness in her smile faded, replaced by a thin line. She did not elaborate on his next point, the way in which he spoke seemed too familiar- and even Annabelle, blind to people as she could be was aware that the boy seemed too familiar with the subject of unhealthy coping skills. Instead she nodded slightly, despite it being something that she could admit was beyond her realm of understanding.

The boy, whom she now supposed was named Skylar seemed hit by a bout of friendliness. Annabelle raised one eyebrow in mild suspicion. "Erm." She seemed lost for words, blinking a few times in confusion. "I'm Annabelle." She inwardly cursed her name. "Uh. Nice to meet you."