Friendly Dating - Kira

Chapter 29 - The Bungler's Guide to Stalking

The sequence of events leading to my current situation started with a piercing whistle from Ethan, as though he were training a sheepdog.

The disturbing thing is that I've discovered that I'll make an extremely good Border Colley bitch. When I heard the whistle, the tip of my nose became wet, and I excitedly waved my tail while my tongue lolled happily from my mouth, drooling all over the place.

Seriously! What happened to scoffing and carrying on with my life when I hear him whistling for me from his bedroom?

We caught the bus a block from home because stalking someone on the noisy scrambler seemed counterproductive to me. Ethan submitted to my superior logic... or figured out that I'm just scared, but then complained the entire trip that spies and assassins don't normally take the bus unless their marks are on that same bus too. Apparently, taking the bus clashed with his dignity as a stalker.

I agreed that stalking Delia and Simon in a fancy black car with tinted windows would've been so much more professional, but what could two bungling high school students do? Keeping up with Simon's mother's car from the scratched and scuffed luxury of a bus seat would have to suffice.

I was a little startled when I pointed all of this out to him, and instead of agreeing with me, he leaned over and kissed me. I was trapped between him and the window and couldn't even dodge the lip invasion. He's been doing it on and off all afternoon so far, and never when I expect it. He does it mid-sentence, just before the light changes and we're about to cross a pedestrian crossing, and he also did it a few times when he feared that Simon and Delia might spot us.

At least he finally stopped his whining when the bus let us off at a stop not far from where Simon parked the car, and we could follow them on foot for the rest of the way. And here we are now, squatting with our backs pressed up against a glass storefront beside a huge planter filled with small palm trees and large-leaved Seloums.

"Seriously, Ethan," I grumble, and it is not the first time since we've left the bus. Yes, it's my turn to whine now. "This is ridiculous. They're going to think we're trying to rob the bank and arrest us."

Passers-by are giving us looks ranging from amused to confused, and that last category of people are not the only ones who are puzzled by our behaviour. I am too. We've been ducking behind doors and garbage cans, suddenly turning down dead-end alleys, and we even pretended to study the wares in the window of a pipe and tobacco shop in extreme detail. I really don't understand why. We are allowed to be in town, we're even allowed to be here together... and I know where Delia and Simon are going, we could take a shortcut and go lie in wait for them there...

Wait! Those weren't the right words; we're not going to assassinate them. Ethan got into my head again.

"What bank?" he asks, glancing at me, and I stab a thumb over my shoulder at the glass wall behind us. He turns his head and jumps a little when he sees that we are being observed by clients from inside the bank. He gives the puzzled security guard a wave, and Mr Anderson, the guard, shakes his head, laughing when he realises who it is that is stalking the bank. Fortunately, he knows Ethan - most people do - and doesn't seem to find his behaviour too strange.

Nope, behaviour like this is only strange when it is being performed by me. Perhaps I could pretend to be Ethan's hostage, an unwilling participant in this farce.

"Hmm," Ethan nods his head, agreeing with my assessment of our tactics thus far. "This isn't very effective; we should just make out. People don't look suspicious when they're making out."

"Yes, they do!" I say quickly, clamping a hand over his mouth when he leans towards me, ready to put his words into action. There are too many observers around, and I might actually spontaneously combust if he kisses me again.