THE LEFTOVERS

58. A Page Out Of A Book

You picked up a book from your bag, and let your fingers stroll through the pages until you reached your bookmark. James was taking his time, which was unusual, he normally didn't like talking to... well, others. At the same time, he was very much like the common old grumpy man. If he didn't like something, he was surely complaining. Which wasn't really a conversation, it was him bombarding strangers with rather rude comments. Suddenly you began to feel a bit guilty of the potential stranger he might be irritating. You straightened up in the chair, and were about to turn around when a waiter came over to you.

"Here is your lemonade, ma'am," the waiter said.

You frowned.

"My friend just went in to get it... it's been over 20 minutes," You said, holding onto the glass he gave you.

You noticed the guy's eyesight was not on you, but behind you. Out of curiosity, you turned around, to see what he was looking at, but there was nothing going on inside. Your eyes glazed back up at the man. It was not the same waiter as before. This gentleman was tall, with broad shoulders. It was while you studied him, you noticed that the shirt he was wearing seemed a bit small for him. Like it wasn't his. It had been quiet between the two of you, for too long. You felt uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered back up to his. He was calm.

"Drink your lemonade," He said.

You put down the glass.

"I'm not thirsty anymore, I'm just going to check on my friend," You explained, standing up, but the guy immediately blocked your way. He had clearly caught onto your discomfort. His hands almost touching your arm, before you stopped in your step.

"I'll check on your friend, you should relax, take a sip," You looked up at the man who was almost twice your height. This was the second time he had asked you to drink, and something told you that whatever was inside that drink was not lemonade. You were not a superhero, or even had any powers, but you didn't need them to know you needed to avoid drinking from this glass.

However, you felt clueless about how to handle this man. The only relationship you had with crime and criminals were from the stories you read. They seemed lackluster now. You were also beginning to worry if James was okay, and if this man had any connection to him, or if he was just the causal common awful man tragically placed on this earth. Somehow, you couldn't help but feel like it was the first.

You knew what James did, what his job intended. It was a large reason why you had been so comprehensive about entering a relationship with James in the first place. His job didn't exactly align with your lifestyle, and no matter how much you wished you were tougher, you weren't. Danger was not your forte. You get enough adrenaline by simply dancing in a crowd or trying new food. You did not seek this, but it didn't change the fact that you had to deal with it. Your eyes glanced down at the glass, and took a deep breath. Your hand wrapped around it, as you lifted it up towards your lips. A smile curled up on your lips, as you batted your eyelashes as you looked up at the man.

It was not difficult to see how his wheels were turning, as he grew confused by your manner. His eyes glued to your lips on the glass. You laid your other hand on his chest. Playfully, you tried to push him away, distracting him as you threw the glass to the ground, breaking it to pieces. You grabbed your book, banging it directly into the man's head. Before he had time to react, you began running towards the entrance of the café. You needed James, and you needed James now, not a second later.

"You shouldn't have done that," The man shouted.

The book fell off your hands, as you reached for the door handle.

"James-" You shouted in desperation, as the strange man wrapped his hands around you, pulling you back. Within seconds, everything turned black.