Victorious warriors win first and then go to war while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win

‘I got us Hobnobs.’ The bright night sky spreads out magnificently above us; it filters in through the trees that overhang us. It is beautiful. Midé leans on me, her arm interlocking mine. She laughs in that way only she can, ‘One of these days, you’ll get caught and suspended for this.’ But she tears open a pack as she does so. The game on the basket ball court behind us is now finished, and in this moment the night is satisfyingly quiet. I don’t mean that there is no sound at all, just no noise. ‘This is awesome.’ Even with her mouth full Midé sounds as natural as the night.

‘I know; Hobnobs are the best.’ A leaf falls from a tree and rests on her hair just as her eyes light up. ‘I don’t mean the Hobnobs.’ I brush the leaf off her and my hand lingers. ‘I know.’ I say, ‘I just wish it can always be like this, you know. Things tend to change a lot and when they do; it’s usually for the worse.’ Midé looks me right in the eyes and takes my hand in hers, ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing. Not right now.’ I say, ‘That’s the thing. Everything’s good.’ Midé raises an eyebrow just as I finish, ‘Then it changes.’

Silence

. ‘Alex,’ a pause, ‘I worry that all these books you read have gotten to you.’ She says and I chuckle. Midé reads a lot more books than I do. The second time we met was at the library. She’d been sitting a table holding The Art of War, when I walked up to her and reminded her that I was the guy from the medical center. She had dropped the book, tilted her head to the right and quoted the line she was reading to me. I answered with a quote of the line after it.

‘Seriously though, who says things have to change?’ The lights start to go off in the cafeteria to our left. ‘Logic.’ I reply lightly. She turns to face me, beautiful smile and all, ‘Good point.’ She stops for a moment studying my face. Then, ‘But solely on the condition that you keep the wheat biscuits coming, I promise, on my heart, that no matter how much things change, or I change, I will always be like this.’

‘You’re perfect.’ I say. And she says, ‘it’s not me it’s the Hobnobs.’