Tommy's Ultra-Important Keychain

Chapter 31: Hiding in plain sight

Tommy checked over his shoulder one more time. The sidewalk was busy that day, typical for a weekend. It did well to keep him under the radar, but anyone tailing him would have the same luck. There was no reason for him to be as paranoid as he was, because who could predict where he would go? Still, the last thing he needed was an unwanted guest disrupting him.

The bell on the door jingled as he entered. Immediately, the road noise was replaced with the smell of coffee. It was soft on his senses, and Tommy relaxed without meaning to. There weren't many people there on that particular day. The atmosphere seeped into his veins the same way it had all those weeks ago.

Tommy paid special attention to the faces of the individuals scattered around, but he had no luck. There was a bored-looking woman behind the counter as he approached. She barely took her eyes off her phone to ask him his order. Tommy cleared his throat, feeling a lot more awkward now that he was there, "Actually, I was wondering if you'd seen someone?"

"Duh," the woman snorted. She popped a piece of bubblegum, smacking her lips. "Seeing people is my job, unfortunately."

"Oh," Tommy stammered, not expecting the apathy in her tone. "Well, the guy I'm looking for is close to my height? He has blonde hair, I'm pretty sure? He really likes the color purple?"

The cashier narrowed her eyes. "You got a name, kid?"

There was a sudden intensity to her. Her mouth set into a cold line and her stare seemed to see right through him. He blinked, unsure of himself. Had he misread the situation? Was he in the wrong place? Did he just look like some random stalker?

"Uh, my name is Tommy," he choked out. He fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie, the fresh scent of the wash still clinging to it from that morning. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and dropped her menacing aura. The woman pushed away from the counter and turned to face a closed door.

"Purpled," she shouted, making Tommy jump out of his skin. The other patrons of the shop turned to stare. "He's here!"

The door opened and Tommy's jaw dropped.

Purpled walked up to the register, switching with the woman. They wore matching barista aprons, which clashed horribly with Purpled's brightly colored hoodie. Other than that, he looked good. His hair was long enough to be pulled back into a ponytail, revealing a pair of black earrings. There was a slouch to his shoulders, a laze to his eyes, and an overall calm to his posture.

Still, Tommy watched as the other boy scanned him for traces of danger, even checking over his shoulder. Once he was certain the villain hadn't been followed, a slow grin spread over his cheeks. Purpled spoke, crisp and clear, "I knew you'd find me."

"Hey, man," Tommy whispered, recovering gradually. He straightened in a valiant attempt to appear less frazzled than he was. "Do you work here?"

"No, actually." Purpled raised an eyebrow and gestured down at himself dramatically. "I wear their memorabilia for fun."

They fell into a loaded silence, neither of them seeming to know what to say next. Purpled moved first, grabbing a cup and beginning to prepare a drink. The whirring of the machine and the gentle hum of overheard conversations were the only sounds.

The villain watched the way Purpled moved. He was confident in the placement of his hands, and didn't stutter to locate anything. He looked like a genuine barista, and not someone trying to stay under the radar.

Tommy jumped when a drink was set in front of him.

"What's this," he asked. Purpled rolled his eyes, picked up a marker, and wrote Tommy's name on the cup. "It's mine?"