Saphora: vol.1 Retention (The Athena Universe) (14 page)

“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 m
an 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 r
esponding 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 anything. 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’v
e 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.

Maverick’s mouth had fallen agape about half way through her speech, just from the pure shock of her speaking to him of her own free will.
He blinked a few times, trying to force his brain to come up with words to respond with. There were small grunts, little pants of breath, but no noises. That is until he awkwardly forced himself to clear his throat. Saphora moved her head back some as he nodded, shoving the rag in his pocket. He had hardly even heard most of what she said, aside from her name and the general idea that she had come to talk to
him
.

“Okay
,” he said, sounding as if he were equally out of breath.

Saphora half nodded, looking into his eyes to try and see if he was making fun of her. But what she saw confused her. He looked like he was in shock. Was he scared? She didn’t know. She glanced over his body language skeptically before making eye contact again.

“Okay? You’re going to talk to me?” she asked, making sure. He nodded, his blinking seemingly having stopped all together.

“I’m going to talk to you
,” he repeated, almost in a trance.

Her eyes seemed to wince as he spoke, sounding like some sort of zombie. She had thought this guy was creepy before. But now, she was starting to question her
self for coming to the café, and wondering just what type of guy he was. Though at the moment he seemed harmless – in a really creepy way, she did remember the Monday after noon he had tried to talk to her. Even though it didn’t end as well as he may have hoped, which was more due to the emotions she had brought to the café, the conversation had started out quite generous. She glanced around the café, and once again saw eyes on her. They weren’t as judgmental as they were curious to the situation. And as always, curious about her. There was one pair of judgmental eyes, however. And they were coming from Liz, who was standing behind the counter with her arms crossed. She was staring intensely at Saphora, and Saphora quickly averted her eyes when meeting with hers.

“Can … you not talk to me here?” Saphora asked sheepishly.

She felt a bit humiliated by it, actually. She was not one to ask anyone for help. Even Fran. She had usually insisted on taking care of her own problems. But lately, she had become so hopeless. And she felt it. And not only that, but she seemed to be losing control of the things she was able to do. Flying, and whatever had taken place in the woods with, real or not real, Tebias. It had happened again, or at least something similar, in the car with Officer Roland. Luckily, no one was hurt. But she had a feeling that the lack of control in her own emotions was somehow tied to the new abilities she was discovering in herself. She had to find a way to calm down. And with Fran no doubt out looking for her again, she needed somewhere that was safe from her eyes. But more importantly – she did need someone’s help. She knew she couldn’t calm herself down to the level that she needed on her own. And without Fran to talk to, it would only be a matter of time before she actually went insane. This guy was the only other vent she could think of. And Saphora needed anything and anyone she could find that was willing to genuinely help.

Maverick’s eyes darted about after realizing that she wanted to talk to him elsewhere. He was almost a little too eager to go anywhere with her. He spun around to look at the observant Liz, who was
still leaning against the sink’s counter with her arms crossed. Her fingers were drumming against her bent arm. Her gum popped when she made eye contact with him, and her brows shot up. She had been listening to their conversation and she gave him a look which read disbelief. He spun back around to face Saphora, who was still looking at him and waiting for his answer. His hands rose, bringing her attention to them as he gestured for her to stay where she was.

“Just, uh
, wait a minute. Okay?” he said before rushing off towards Liz. Saphora, blinking, watched a little caught off guard at his sudden leaving the conversation. She looked around, actually feeling a little uncomfortable. She wasn’t used to putting herself out there. Her body shifted awkwardly before she made the very conscious decision to sit down at the booth she was standing beside. She kept to herself as Maverick went to go talk with Liz.  But she seemed to turn away from him the moment he approached her. He was speaking barely above a whisper, compared to her very audible responses.