Xavier Storm: The Leaf of Hope

Chapter 3: Destructed

I slided my butt sideways through seats while watching the back of the bald guy that was asking, shouting at the guard. He looked at me and winked, over the tummy-balled man's shoulder.

"Gordon!" the bald guy bellowed to the guard.

"Oh, yes, Manager!" the guard straightened as he switched his gaze from me to the bald guy. The cap swayed, and he held it to keep from falling.

"I'm asking you! WHERE-IS-THE-KID?!"

"He's.... um... uh... already... um..."

"WHAT?!"

"Already went outside!" answered the guard quickly, and his cap nearly fell. "Yeah." He managed to place the cap again onto his head and scratched his back neck mildly. "The kid, yeah, already gone," he said, more relaxed now.

"WHAT-THE-FF..." the manager growled, and the guard shrank. His hands balling into fist, tapping the ground hardly with his heels. "YOU MUST NOT..."

Their conversation continued with groans and shrieks. The guard looked at me again and beckoned with his face, and quickly turned to face again the manager. He's letting me escape, I assumed inside my head.

I continued gliding sideways quickly, keeping an eye to the vast back of the corpulent manager, who was swiveling his head sideways. He should be searching for me, not convinced with the guard. I sidled , and with a soft thud, a girl screamed.

"OUCH!" she cried.

I felt something wet, streaming hotly, slowly on my back. My hands trailed its way pursuing the supposed-to-be-wet part. I touched it with my fingertips and felt it watery, and I quickly unpatched the sticking wet cloth on my back. I swiveled my head to check my wet back. I found the light brown liquid that shaped unrecognizably on my yellow cotton shirt. The creamy aroma started to invade the breeze. Yuck, disgusting, I thought.

"You, moron!" shrilled a girlish, squeaky voice behind me.. I automatically lifted up my head, and made a leap backwards when I saw a blonde woman with her left hand pulling away her sleeveless shirt from her chest. It looked like it was splashed by the same light brown liquid that splattered on me. On her right hand holding a white cup, inches away from her and lifted from the table, showing a portion labelled COFFEE.

She blew onto her chest that was patched with the coffee. It felt hot as it also did on my back. My stomach gave a squeeze on itself as I stood up crouchily. Taste of guilt on my mouth made me bite my lower lip. I was halfway to run when an arm twisted the front top of my shirt.

"What's your problem, dude?!" the blonde guy with a beaky nose, inches far from mine, shouted as he hoisted me up. I was pulling his arms gently. Not wanting to take any more trouble.

"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean t-"

"OH! YOU SHUT UP!" the girl bellowed, striding towards me with her finger pointing my chest. I felt the sharp edge of her manicured nails drifting through my shirt. "You are crazy! You are a cryptic guy with a-"

"No, no, no." I hardly whispered, preventing to call too much attention.

"Oh, yes, you are! Talking all by yourself.YOU ARE CRAZY! YOU ARE A MORON! YOU NUDGED MY HAND TO MAKE THAT DRINK SPILLED ON ME! WHY? HUH? WHY?! BECAUSE I DIDN'T ANSWER YOU AND JUST IGNORED YOU WHEN YOU ASKED ABOUT THAT! TRYING TO CONVINCE ANYONE THAT YOU ARE TALKING TO SOMEONE WE DIDN'T ACTUALLY SEE?! YOU ARE A FREAK! YOU A-"

"What's happening here?" The girl had been cut with the loud but calm voice of the guard coming towards us, followed by the manager and a woman in a pair of white blouse and knee-length skirt with her hair netted neatly in a bun. The other people crowded, circling the scene.