Every night I would walk up the stairs hoping the same thing but weeks went by and I did not see her. Every time I took out the garbage or ran to and ...from the little grocery, I glanced at her door. The name on her mailbox said "C. Johnston;" Hell, I didn't even know her name.I checked in the old lady Fogherty (that Mrs. Fogherty to us young folk) downstairs and she talked to her almost every day. I pumped her for information on my neighbor but she wouldn't give up anything, but for one mere. "We sat there for a few more minutes until he asked me to go with him up stairs to do something, I had no idea what he was planning to do but I went anyway. But he was kinda nervous, I didn't know how to take. I stood in the hall way for a min, while he was in his room doing something.As I waited there I was kinda think of about how fun the week was gonna be, how I finally got to do something different from I normally did.Then out of now where he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his room,. It’s kind of a surprise.’ John’s voice seemed to light up as he walked over to the parking lot and brought out some boxes. Clanging, he moved them to the tent, disappeared behind the curtain again, and talked to Catherine as he got suited up. — As John finally emerged, he seemed to light up the room. His armour was amazing. The sheen of the silver was contrasted nicely with the black coat over it. The breastplate, tempered a light blue, shone brightly. Catherine giggled as she realized the. I played the role of the cool guy with my Boston accent, and she seemed to see right through it. Amanda saw right through my bullshit, and told me that I wasn’t the only one feeling out of place in Ottawa. I looked her in the eyes when she said that. Man, this chick was kind of deep. I guess my shock must have showed on my face, for Amanda smiled and playfully slapped my arm. I smiled when she did that. It was such a Caribbean thing to do. I was born in the island of Haiti, so I remember..