Ms. Fighter and Mr. Stranger

Chapter 2 - Bright Red Lamborghinis and Angry Babysitters

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Chapter 2

            I was so caught up in the two songs that I was mixing that I did not realize that I was bobbing my head slightly and humming along to the powerful music being blasted through my ears. 

“This is going to be a completely boring ride if you intend to just sit there on your computer the whole time.  Talk to me! Please?”  Aiden pleaded. 

            I did not even spare him a glance as his unwelcomed voice somehow infiltrated my music.  I continued with my mixing, and I was so please with the progress I was making; my vocals were improving and it goes over so well with the instrumentals. 

            It was only when I saw Aiden’s hand inch over to mine that I jerked away hastily.  I didn’t look for his reaction because I honestly did not care.  What really concerned me was how rude this virtual stranger was. 

“Do. Not. Touch. Me.”  I enunciated each word as if I was talking to a child because at that moment I honestly felt as though I was. 

“I was just trying to get your attention.”  He said, sounding slightly appalled that I freaked out. 

“I do not care what it was that you were trying to do.  I do not know you and I already do not like you.  Leave me alone.”

“No.”

“I was not asking you.  I was demanding you to.” 

“Well, sorry the only women I take orders from are my mom and my assistant.” 

“Oh, you’re cool.  You have an assistant.  Wow.  I now all-of-a-sudden want to marry you, make babies with you, grow old with you and die with you!  Will you make my dreams come true? Be my knight in shining armor!”  I exclaimed, sarcasm dripping off of my world. 

            I effectively began ignoring him all over again by turning up my music, still disgusted by this arrogant stranger.  Earphones glued to my ears and hands glued to my keyboard are how I spent the rest of the two-and-a-half-hour train ride. 

            Just as I went to check my watch, a voice on the speaker began to speak.  I removed my earphones and listened. 

“Sorry for the fifteen-minute delay, as it is 10:30, but we have reached our destination and we hope that you use our services again soon.”  I inwardly groaned because my little sister, Tanya, should be waiting for me right about now and my neighbor hates it when I’m late picking her up from babysitting.  The lady is like sixty; what else does she have to do? Rinse her dentures?

I gathered my belongings, only to notice that my bag that had just previously been on the seat to my right was now in the hands of a stranger.  It was not just any stranger, though; it was Aiden.  I stood up and snatched my bag from his hands before stalking off. 

I passed through a significant amount of homeless people on my way out of the train station and had even passed by some rather scared-looking runaways.  Once out of the station, I shivered due to the cold and squinted my eyes to concentrate on the parking lot and walked even faster when I found what I was looking for: Zalman’s burgundy 1987 Chevy Impala. 

Shia Zalman is one of my only friends at the prison that society calls school.  He is around 5’9” with a muscular build, chocolate brown eyes, and brown, wavy hair that reaches to his shoulders.  As I approach the car, I see the driver’s side door open and Zalman step out. 

He walked towards me with a small smile on his face that seemed identical to mine and reached out to grab my bag.  He looked at something behind me and instant grabbed my laptop bag as well. 

“Get in the car.  Someone’s following you.”

“Oh, I know.  It’s just this rich kid who can’t take a hint.  Don’t worry about it, Zalman.”  I reassured my friend with a roll of my eyes, but walked to the passenger side of the car anyway. 

            I waited patiently as Zalman put my bags in the backseat and walked back around to his side of the car.  When he was finally buckled in to the driver’s seat, he put the key in the ignition and turned on the heater.  We both waited as the car was warming up and that gave me a chance to observe Zalman.  He was a fighter, just like me, except he was recruited earlier and is lucky enough to fight locally.  I usually attend his fights, but today I had one in the neighboring town at the same time. 

            As I was looking at his face, I noticed that he had a small scratch on his jaw that was almost unnoticeable, but I still caught it. 

“You made sure that the other guy looks worse than you, right?”

“Of course; do you think so low of me, Genny?”  He rebutted with a scoff. 

With a laugh I replied, “I only expect the best from you, Shia.  Now, get me home.” 

            After an expectant raise of his eyebrows, I added a ‘please’ at the end of my demand and Zalman began to pull out of the parking lot.  As we were in reverse, we saw a bright red Lamborghini whizz past up, which made Zalman jerk to a stop. 

He hit the steering wheel with his fist and swore under his breath.  I looked in the rearview mirror to see that the owner of the car had stopped and waved before driving off. 

“Stupid strangers.” 

“What?”

“Don’t worry about it.  I’ll tell you later.” 

We pulled up to my apartment and I promptly stepped out.  I opened the backseat door and grabbed my belongings.  I gave Zalman a small, but appreciative smile before I closed the door and walked away.  I could hear that his car was still behind me, sitting there as always to make sure that I got home safely. 

I walked to my downstairs neighbor and knocked on the door.  As the door swung open, I could smell the intense scent of chocolate chip cookies and there stood a rather annoyed sixty-something-year-old woman. 

“Hello, Mrs. Webb.  How has your day been?”  I said, my face plastered with a smile. 

“Radke,” she addressed me by my last name, “Just take your little sister.” At that moment, my two-year-old little sister came crawling behind her.  I swiftly plucked her up from the floor and sent Mrs. Webb an appreciative smile. 

            I turned as the door shut in my face and sent Zalman, whose car was still parked, a reassuring wave.  I walked up to my apartment, opened the door to a nearly empty living room, and walked back into the back bedroom. 

I set a sleeping Tanya on the bed as I went to the restroom to take a shower.  As I wiped the filth from my body, I couldn’t help but wonder about that familiar bright red Lamborghini parked outside of my complex. 

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