Girl Master of Disguises (Lesbian Story, GirlxGirl)

Chapter Six - Who Was She?

"Welcome to Seattle!" a too-cheerful greeter says. Buggy waves in acknowledgement as she focuses on one step at a time. She has no idea what time it is, now that the time zone's changed. And the comfortable "Buggied" outfit she's changed into in a restroom isn't helping her keep an eye on things. Even with her natural hair plaited into a very tight French braid.

     Passing by the windows displaying the layout of the city, Buggy vows to herself that she'll dedicate the next couple of hours to walking around to who-knows-where. Frankly, she can't see a lot of difference between Seattle and New York. Then again, she hasn't had a lot of sleep. Maybe after twelve hours Buggy will stop wondering why the Statue of Liberty is now white and looks a lot like a spaceship on a stand.

     She finds a Starbucks, to her relief. Now's the best time to get a load of coffee to help keep herself awake. The barista at the counter looks a lot more than happy to whip up her recommendation for Buggy. Buggy grabs a hold of the huge cup as she looks for the cash on her. "What was it, five dollars?" she asks. All she can find are ones or twenties, so far. 

     "Yep!" The barista, whose name tag has Laina engraved on it, lists the ingredients used to make Buggy's order and the perks for them. Buggy interrupts her with one of the few five-dollar bills she has. "Have a nice trip!" Laina calls out as Buggy leaves the growing place.

     "It better be," Buggy says quietly, making a mental note to trade some large bills for the smaller ones. 

     She takes a sip of her sugary-sweet coffee while walking down the streets. She glances around here and there, finding more differences between the two cities from earlier as Buggy refuels her energy. She's seen pictures of Seattle before, but the pictures have apparently failed to capture the beauty of the city. Hell, if Buggy keeps complimenting it, she might as well follow the steps of that one woman with the Berlin Wall.

     The drink disappears slowly at a time. Buggy has managed to drink every drop by the time she comes across what seems to be a huge market, with people bustling around. The sign, "Public Market Center", is hugely displayed with red neon letters and accompanied with a same-sized clock. Another neon sign below it says, "Farmers Market". 

     Every step, along with her suitcase bumping beside her, brings Buggy closer to a strong scent of fish. From where she is, she can see a huge seafood booth with loud customers and louder workers. The other booths are equally crowded and happy. 

     "I might be a little mad at you instead of severely pissed off," she mutters. "It's an interesting place." She walks down one way deeper into the market. Buggy passes a doughnut booth, where a long line of people are waiting to order. "And stocked with delicious-smelling pastries."

     She passes by a table and stops in her place. Someone's watching her; she can feel it. The question is, who? Buggy turns around and looks for anyone eyeing in her direction. "Make that a where, too," she says to herself. Whoever is there better be the one leaving her the notes and not, say, one of the kidnappers.

     The search is abandoned when Buggy sees a girl running past her. Her focus now shifted, she watches as the girl trips, almost falls down, straightens herself up, and keeps running. From the way she's going, it looks as if someone's chasing her. 

     And because she's too energized, Buggy decides the chaser would be herself.

     "Wait!" she calls out. Putting her suitcase in a hiding place, she picks up the pace and zips past some confused people. A couple of tables have been moved by her hips, and a couple of dogs are barking at Buggy while their owners do their hardest to restrain the animals. The girl doesn't bother to turn her head back to see who's calling for her. 

     "Watch where you're going!" a passing woman says sternly to Buggy. "Some of us are here to relax, you know!"

     Buggy ignores her, mostly because she'd be wasting time. She keeps running towards an alley with walls completely full of what looks like thousands of chewed gum. If she wasn't busy right now, she'd be questioning the reasoning for it.

     The girl doesn't stop, or even slow down, to take a breath. She runs down the sloped road and turns right. Panting now, Buggy follows and notices a set of stairs. By now the girl's half-way down. 

     "You have . . . got to be kidding . . . me!" Buggy wheezes. She takes a deep breath before running down the stairs. Now that she's completely out of the market, she doesn't have to worry about ramming into other people. Buggy can worry about ramming into rails. 

     At the bottom of the stairs, she witnesses the girl jogging to a stop. (About time! Buggy thinks, annoyed.) The girl lets herself turn to watch the chaser bending slightly at the knees to regain her breathing. Buggy imagines a smirk on her face before she turns around and starts running again. 

     Minutes pass, and Buggy can finally breathe normally. The route she and the girl took was more different as opposed to the flat sidewalks in New York. At least Buggy was familiar with her own route.

     But there was something about the girl. Has Buggy seen her before? If so, where? Why was she running? Was there something important that she need to do? Or did Buggy simply chase someone who was doing what is most likely part of her daily routine?

     Not satisfied with what she hasn't accomplished, Buggy slowly returns to the upper level. She's expected a large amount of pain on her sides; instead there's about a fourth of the expectation. And there's only about a couple hours left before the sun should set. If she's lucky, she might be able to find a room in a hotel nearby.

     Buggy goes back to where she stuffed her suitcase. She's pleased by the fact no one's taken it. Even to a stranger she's not prepared to say something close to, "Yeah, I'm some girl who thinks she's all that because she has a ton of outfits to disguise herself with, and did I mention I caught a few guys back in my hometown?"

     She might need to edit that if the time ever comes. 

     Buggy strolls out of the area, now feeling a little drained from the spontaneous exercise. Asking a couple of strangers as to where a hotel might be, she goes down a couple of streets before arriving at the hotel. On a normal "vacation" day, she'd probably think about the scenery she's been in. 

     Instead, she only has the one question echoing in her head: Who was that girl?