Lionheart

Chapter 4

                Over his shoulder, Nick hears a lousy whistle.

                “Nice bike,” the person behind him says. Nick’s eyes travel down to his black Kawasaki Ninja. He lets his ego swell for a few seconds. Nick’s family isn’t exactly well-off or anything, far from it, but a friend of his uncle is into the automobile business. Needless to say, the acquiring it, despite the time being Nick’s birthday, wasn’t easy. He’s just lucky that he was born into a family not too keen on sticking to the rules.

                But his mood sours when he returns to Earth; he remembers the infuriating voice that brought him back and right then feels the urge to kick something.

                He turns around with a few choice words in his mouth, but his hand instantly flies to his left back pocket.

                That stupid freshman is grinning at him with his phone in her little hand.

                “What the fuck?”

                The girl tosses him his phone. “Don’t worry about it. But you should seriously avoid putting your phone in your ass pocket,” she nods to herself slowly, looking like she just lost herself in her thoughts. “People might steal from you. My name’s Mallory, by the way.”

                He shoots Mallory the coldest stare he can muster this early in the morning as he shoves his phone back in his “ass pocket” forcefully in an attempt to spite her. Nick gets no such reaction other than a few tongue clicks and a shake of her head at his silence. As much as the gesture bothers him, he refuses to give in, keeping his mouth clamped firmly shut. What he doesn’t need is to give this stupid Mallory kid the impression that he’s even remotely willing to get acquainted.

                “Nice to meet you, Nick.”

                 Goddamn it. Really?

                Mallory bursts put laughing, childishly pointing at Nick’s face while she holds her stomach with her free hand. Really, it’s a clichéd image that Nick never considered he would be able to witness off-screen. It’s to his greatest misfortune that Mallory is keen on making him feel embarrassed. It might also be considered sad that Nick doesn’t realize what’s so fucking funny about his face that makes children like Mallory want to piss themselves.

                Usually they just cower away or glare at him. He recalls one brat trying to challenge him to battle.

                “I was right!” she began, “You do bare your teeth when you get mad!” She regains her composure as easily as a snap of Nick’s fingers, though, with nothing to stimulate the sudden change in character. “Do you wear glasses?”

                “No,” Nick hisses through clenched teeth. He worries incongruously if his jaws might suffer permanent damage from how hard he’s gritting them.

                “Well, you kind of look like a mole, too, when you’re angry. Some people who wear glasses kind of look like moles when they take their eyewear off. Don’t you think so?”

                God, how he really needs to hit something.

                The inapt soliloquy doesn’t end for an unnaturally long time. A normal person should probably feel parched by now, or maybe that’s just because Nick sticking around gives him the impression that five minutes have passed since Mallory’s inadvertently (then again maybe not) offensive comment about bespectacled individuals looking like moles. Then, he realizes belatedly that he doesn’t even have to wait on Mallory to shut up. It’s a no-brainer that she doesn’t have any such business to take care of that involves him in any way; no one does and should have to do anything with him because he’s damn well been making sure of that for the past two years. It’s a little humiliating how this sudden awareness of his has come with all the feelings of disgrace and exultation of an epiphany.