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Saphora: vol.1 Retention (The Athena Universe)

Page 10

by Jaz Johnson


  “Okay, okay. Look – I’m sorry. Please? Just get back in the car okay? I won’t talk to you the rest of the way if you just get back in the car.”

  “No. You just want to meet Fran. And I’m not going to let her talk to some pretentious snobby little-“

  “Whoa! You have got some serious anger management issues. Geez – I – Look. I just don’t want you to get hurt with this crazy weather. Will you please just get in the car? I won’t even get out when I drop you off. I swear,” he pleaded, taking a step towards her.

  She groaned, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to tell him why the car swung over the way it did. And maybe, she thought, that if he didn’t speak to her for the rest of the ride, or speak to Fran when they arrived at the zoo, that it wouldn’t be that unbearable. Looking around, she tried to make a quick decision, feeling her temple pulse.

  “Yes? Okay? Please?” he asked, gesturing to the car.

  Saphora glared in his direction, the gaze landed on the car. She didn’t answer, but she walked to the car, sure to stay clear of Roland. He sighed in relief, dropping his arms and groaning. He shook his head, grumbling under his breath as he followed opposite her to get into the driver’s side.

  “What the hell was I thinking?”

  “Do you think this is going to be big enough?” Fran asked Brad as she helped him carry a large boulder into the new exhibit that was being built. He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders slightly as he backed into the exhibit’s entrance and guided Fran towards an area near a tree for the location of the boulder.

  “Well, it is a pretty big bolder,” he said teasingly. Fran laughed and rolled her eyes as they set it down by the tree. They groaned as the weight was lowered and Fran stretched her back before leaning against the tree’s trunk.

  “The exhibit, Brad,” she clarified, even though she knew that he knew what she meant.

  He smiled, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees. He looked around the exhibit. It was the largest exhibit that had ever been built at their zoo, and one of the largest in the world. It took up seven stories, and was nearly as wide as the entire building. It was big enough for a small river, and had trees that nearly reached the ceiling. There were wall-length windows on each floor that the exhibit covered, and plaques of information on the species that was being moved in the next week or so.

  “Hell I hope so. Look at this place. I mean, geez. Why didn’t they just put it in an exhibit that was outside if they needed this much space?” he said, standing straight again and continuing to look around. Fran’s eyes followed his as she thought about it and shrugged.

  “They said because it’s such a rare species, they didn’t want it being overwhelmed with the crowds of people. At least in here it’s limited to the glass, I guess,” she said as she crossed her arms, leaning more flatly against the tree. Brad grumbled, looking back at Fran.

  “I guess. Is it really the last of its kind? I’m surprised they’d let a rundown town like ours have it.”

  “We are not rundown. I heard the owner spent his life savings on getting this thing. He thinks it’s going to up the business around here.”

  “I hope it does. We already had to sell all of the winter animals. The kids were devastated.”

  “I know. I almost cried with them when they asked about the polar bears,” Fran said, putting her hand on her heart dramatically. Brad laughed, shaking his head.

  “Don’t use the kids as an excuse. You were going to cry anyway,” Brad teased. Fran pushed his arm as they laughed.

  “Oh come on. You can’t blame me. They were so cute! I’m going to miss them. You can’t tell me you’re not going to miss them,” she said, her hands now on her hips.

  “Yeah well, I guess so,” he said, looking up and around the exhibit again. And as he did, something caught his eye. Someone, specifically. He had thought he saw Saphora standing on the first floor of the building, looking into the exhibit to watch them. “Hey, speaking of kids … Isn’t that yours?” he asked, pointing a finger up at her from his folded arms. Fran tilted her head, ready to deny the claim, thinking that she was still in interrogation. But when she looked up, she was shocked to see Saphora looking down at them, looking anything but happy. They shared a tense eye contact that shared both Saphora rage, and Fran’s apologetic plea.

  Fran had thought that Saphora would be with the police long enough to get to the station and catch the end of the interrogation. She couldn’t miss another day of work, so she made the risky decision to catch up. She had asked Dr. Lupin to cover for her until she got there. But seeing Saphora staring back at her, it was obvious that he wasn’t able to do that. She swore under her breath and dashed toward the entrance to the exhibit. Brad flinched and stammered as he looked from her to the still staring Saphora.

  “What – Fran? H-Hey!” he shouted, following after her.

  Fran continued though, not stopping when she rushed past the food cellar and up the stairs towards the first floor of the building. Brad was quickly catching up, and was still trying to get her to talk to him about what was happening.

  “Fran? What’s wrong? She’s fine!” he said, trying to get her to slow down.

  But she was frantic. She was already near tears at the thought of having Saphora disappointed in her again. But what would she tell her? That she had to work? Saphora wouldn’t go for that. She doubted that she would even speak to her. And if she did, it would be nothing but slurred screaming - or broken phrases.

  “No … No, no. I messed up. She’s mad at me,” she said, shaking her head as they rounded the corner to the next flight of stairs. It wasn’t much longer before they were coming out of the staircase to the floor. Fran immediately started running to where she had seen Saphora, trying to think of what she would say to her when she got there. There wasn’t much that she could think of, but she would at least try. But to Fran’s dismay, when she reached the display glass, Saphora wasn’t there. Not a sign of her. Fran slowed to a stop, and started looking around. Brad caught his breath as he came up behind her.

  “Where’d she go?” he asked, looking around with her as they both gasped for air.

  Fran plunged her fingers against her hairline in frustration as she spun around, still searching. Her eyes moving faster than her body.

  “Crap,” she cursed under her breath.

  Chapter 6

  “Alright man, you okay with locking up the shop tonight?” Jared asked Maverick as he walked into the kitchen to grab his coat from the hooks on the wall. Maverick nodded, seemingly to no one as he turned off the coffee machine after finishing the last batch. He arched his back, waiting for the crack as he took a step back and leaned on the sink’s counter.

  “Yes, Jared. For the hundredth time. It’s not like this is my first time closing up the shop,” he called back to him, crossing his arms and looking around the near empty shop.

  There were only a few people, once again, in the local café. An old couple towards the front, a middle-aged man off to the wall towards the back, and two women sitting three booths behind the couple. It was always slow on Thursday evenings. Jared came back out from the push doors of the kitchen with his jacket on. He was adjusting it onto his shoulders as he laughed, coming around to the front of the counter to talk to Maverick. He leaned on the counter, lowering his voice and glancing around as if he was about to share a secret.

  “Yeah, but it’s the first night closing with you know who,” he chuckled, hinting his eyes towards the back at the humming Liz.

  She was finishing up with washing the dishes. Headphones in. Attention off. Maverick glanced through the cut-out window at the back of Liz’s head. Even from behind the counter, Maverick could hear the sound of her popping her bubblegum. He rolled his eyes, and turned back to look at the smiling Jared.

  “Oh shut up, you ass.”

  “Whatever you say, man. You know she’s got the hots for you, right? You gotta hit that.”

  “I’m pretty sure you already did. No thanks,” he
scoffed, crossing one leg over the other. Jared rolled his eyes and pushed himself up from the counter.

  “Oh come on, Mav. We were drunk. It wasn’t like we were dating,” he said in a poor defense. Maverick nodded, frowning.

  “That’s the point, Jared.”

  “You need to let go of some of your standards, man. When was the last time you had a girlfriend?”

  Maverick groaned, pushing himself off of the counter and walking away from the conversation.

  “Goodnight, Jared.”

  Jared laughed, picking his bag up off of the floor and slinging it over his shoulder. He gave a shrug and turned his shoulder to Maverick.

  “Have fun,” Jared teased as he left the café. Maverick didn’t dignify his jab with a response. Just shook his head and turned around towards the sink. And when he did, he was startled by the appearance of Liz, leaning in the cut of the window between the kitchen and front counter. He flinched before his body tensed and backed away from the sick to lean on the counter opposite to it. He threw his head back and sighed, as Liz popped her bubblegum and smiled.

  “Christ, Liz. Are you trying to kill me?” he said, correcting the posture of his neck. Liz tucked a blonde lock behind her ear and rested her cheek against her arm.

  “Now why would I do that?” she asked playfully.

  “Well because you just popped out of nowhere. Could have given me a heart attack, you know,” he said, turning around to see if there were any customers coming in. It was around seven in the evening and the café would be closing at eight thirty. Liz pouted, lifting up from the window and coming out of the kitchen to join Maverick behind the counter.

  “Lighten up, Mav. God. You’re so tense,” she whined, reaching over his shoulders to grab them and press her fingers into his muscles. But his body tensed, and he moved away from her hands, turning his head slightly to look at her. The two women that were sitting by the door could be heard giggling. He didn’t look at them to see what they were laughing about, but he automatically thought it was at him. At them.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, reaching behind him and rubbing his own shoulder. She shrugged, crossing her arms.

  “Well, I was going to give you a massage. But you obviously don’t want me to,” she said, looking around the shop. Maverick paused, before moving past her to get back to the sink. He shook his head, reaching into his apron to get the rag he used for wiping down the tables. Turning on the faucet, he held the rag under the warm water to soak it.

  “We’re at work, Liz.”

  “Only for the next like, hour.”

  “Still work,” he grumbled.

  Liz moved closer to him, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. A small grin snuck onto her lips as she turned her head to watch him.

  “So … Does that mean I can give you a massage after work?”

  Maverick paused as he turned off the faucet, looking at Liz. Jared was right. Liz really was out there. And Maverick wasn’t about to encourage it. Their eyes met for a few moments before Liz’s flirtatious expression faded into that of a sheepish wonder.

  “Sorry … What’s with you, anyway? You’ve been weird since that crazy girl showed up that day.”

  Maverick rang out the rag with a firm hand, as he grumbled.

  “She wasn’t crazy, Liz. She obviously needed help.”

  “I’ll say.”

  Maverick sighed, and rested his hands on the counter’s edge, looking at Liz with narrowed eyes.

  “You know what I mean, Liz.”

  “Sure I do,” she mumbled, looking up at him. He continued to stare, his gaze not softening. Liz groaned and threw her hands up, pushing herself off of the counter and leaving from behind it. Practically storming, she went back into the kitchen. “Sorry, geez!” she scowled, spitting out her bubblegum into a waste basket as she past the doors into the kitchen. Maverick shook his head, slapping the rag against the counter and turning around to the giggling women. Their giggling softened when he turned around. One waved and smiled, but Maverick looked away.

  He hadn’t been the same since he had seen Saphora that Monday afternoon. He’d been thinking about what he said to her. And how it may have insulted her. He regret it. And he wanted to speak to her again, so that he could at least apologize. She didn’t have to speak to him. But he figured if she knew he was sorry that it would make up for something. But he’d been thinking of a lot more than just apologizing. He was infatuated with her appearance. Her odd colour in hair and eyes. He had never seen anything like it. And of course, being the dweeb that he was, that was the first thing he thought to talk about, not thinking how she may have taken it. Thinking it over the past few days, he figured that she probably got comments like that all the time. And that it may have annoyed her, which would explain her almost immediate reaction to him asking. But he still would have rather bring up the topic of her oddly coloured aspects than bring up the bruises and scratches that he noticed. He was almost certain that if he had mentioned either one of those that she would have smacked him.

  Maverick walked from behind the counter and mad his way to the table the middle-aged man had been seated at. The man had gone about five minutes ago, and he figured that he would start from the back and make his way to the front of the café to clean the tables. Maybe it would ease his busy mind.

  About fifteen minutes into his task of wiping down the tables, Maverick was interrupted once again by Liz. Even though she had let some time pass before the next time she spoke to him, he still considered her approaching to be very persistent. Or maybe it was because he’d really rather not talk to her. She had done nothing but talk poorly about Saphora since she had left the café. And frankly, it was beginning to get on his nerves. Because not only was she judging her for what she looked like, but him as well for choosing to talk to her off the clock.

  “So, Maverick,” she began, chewing a new piece of bubblegum. “Are you, uhm, seeing anyone?” she asked, with her hands folded behind her back. Maverick paused, stopping the rotating of his hand on the surface of the mahogany table top. He blinked, a couple of times, before turning to look at her. She was grinning, her jaw working the gum in a subtle chew. His brow arched in sudden curiosity.

  “Are you?” he asked in return, instead of giving her what she wanted. Her jaw stopped as her hands separated behind her back. She blinked as well, obviously caught off guard from the responding question. She hesitantly shook her head and stumbled over her words.

  “I – No, I’m not, uh, seeing anyone,” she said averting her eyes. Maverick couldn’t tell if she was lying, or if she really didn’t consider sleeping with people being with them. Something told him that she didn’t take any relationship seriously. That it was always just a game to her. Liz had only been working there for about three weeks, and she had already managed to be the topic of three different rumors of sexual affairs. One of which, being with Jared, Maverick knew to be true. And, well, what did the other guys have to lie about? Maverick could only assume that he was the next target – the next challenge.

  “Oh, I thought you were,” he said, looking back down at the table to continue wiping. She took a step closer, scoffing slightly and putting her hand on her hip.

  “Well, I’m not,” she said a little under the tone of her normal speaking voice. Maverick nodded, keeping his eyes from her as he finished with the table and moved to the next one. Liz’s eyes wandered over Maverick’s expression questionably as she pressed her question again.

  “So … Are you seeing anyone?”

  “Hmm?” he hummed, as if the music was anywhere near loud enough for him not to hear her with her being right next to him. Her other hand found her other hip.

  “Maverick,” she insisted, tilting her head so she could try to get his attention at his bent angle. And as she tilted her head back up in frustration, she frowned at what her eyes fell on next. She groaned, and Maverick held his breath, hoping that she wasn’t going to get too upset with him. But she didn’t say anythin
g. Not for a second or two anyway. Then Maverick heard a grumbling,

  “Oh great, she’s back.”

  Without even fully understanding what she had said, Maverick’s posture straightened as he stood up and spun his head towards the entrance of the café. And there Saphora was, looking around the café somewhat out of breath. Maverick’s eyes, without his permission, trailed from her red rain boots, up her black skinny jeans past the boldness of her thighs and past the curving of her hips, up past her yellow zipped hoodie, to where they stayed on the pinkness of her face. Her breathing was ragged, but he could hardly notice, he was too busy noticing everything else. Especially her eyes, which he suddenly noticed to be staring into his. His chest heaved, and then stopped, trapping the breath he had been taking into his lungs. He almost choked on it, his respiratory system changed so suddenly. It only seemed to worsen when her feet started to move in his direction. The grip on the rag he held grew tighter as Liz left his side in what was most likely a mixture of fear and disgust. He took a step back when she stopped about a foot away from him. Far enough for either one of them to react to anything they didn’t like. And close enough for Maverick to catch the scent of rain and lavender. Maverick’s lungs kick started into function as their breath shared a close space. He found himself unable to utter anything other than a simple,

  “Hi.”

  “My name is Saphora. I’m in my twenties. I’ve had amnesia since I was about seven years old. I just came out of an interrogation for being a suspect of a possible but not possible murder but am probably going to get cleared because my therapist has convinced them that I was hallucinating and am therefore insane. The closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother wasn’t even there to defend me because she was at her job flirting with some man. I’m still somewhat angry with you – whoever you are, for Monday. But I don’t have a diary, nor do I have any interest in getting one. And I really need someone to talk to because I don’t have anyone else to see or anywhere else to go on foot. And you said you would talk to me,” she breathed, her lungs fighting to replace the oxygen that was lost.

 

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