Obey

Chapter 4: Coffee Catastrophe

Inside the campus café...

"Ridiculous! Ross, why's it that the one time I expect you to drive like a speed demon, you decide to be an old woman and follow all the rules of the road? Did you really not want me to get my latte?" A bratty Ashley stuck her tongue out before getting in line. "Ugh. Now there are only twenty minutes before orientation."

As he watched his fellow Guardian attempt to gain Roscoe's attention, wave a hand in his face, and snap her fingers, Brandon sneered. "And, he's dead to the world."

"Ross?" Tina noticed her friend doing his compulsive neck rubbing thing, saw him square himself and look a few paces ahead, toward a 5'7'' guy with a short, dirty blond pompadour. She listened to the hefty, buttermilk-skinned man's complex order, saw how he stuck out like a sore thumb with his youth a stark contrast to his business casual garb, pressed pants, silk shirt, tailored, plum-colored sweater, and cordovan shoes.

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The man before the group is best described as an acquired taste. He's the youngest member of the university's specialized class, the recently turned 17-year-old, Kyle G. Union, also known as a walking stereotype for the preppy rich kid.

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"Money." The brassy voiced teenager called to his lackey. After a few seconds, Kyle realized he didn't hear the cashier get paid and stopped texting. He looked to the side, his russet eyes blazing as his naturally ruddy cheeks reddened further. "Goddammit. Where's that little asshole?"

Suddenly, a loud slam rocked the glass eatery. Tina's attention turned to a prematurely graying man with golden-yellow eyes that the sun would envy.

"And where the hell were you?" Kyle belted condescendingly. "You know you're not supposed to leave me."

Alexander, 19, with deep sesame-shaded skin, rushed to his Protected's side. He hunched his skinny, 5'11'' frame as he tried to catch his breath. "You... you... God! These are heavy," Alexander croaked out, dropping the bags he carried with a loud thud.

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Alexander or Alex lives a sad life.

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The exhausted Guardian collected himself, blinked back the prescription contacts the longer hair near his forehead had nudged out of place. Alex rolled his shoulders, his black turtleneck and straps of his faded overalls moving with the motion.

"Don't you remember, Mr. Union? You sent me to get your books after forgetting them." Alex supplied whilst looking at the ground.

"Are you testing me?" Kyle righted an imperfectly buttoned cuff.

Tina heard Roscoe groan. She looked his way, saw him clenching his fists and grinding his teeth. It looked like he wanted to jump in the situation, but Ashley blocked his path, stood before him defensively.

"You'd better not be trying to embarrass me," Kyle thought to his frog Guardian, an inflection of hate in his words. "I thought you'd know better than to disobey."

"No, Mr. Union. I'm not trying to disobey you, Mr. Union. I would never." Alexander hastily thought back, knowing better than to have this conversation verbally.

Kyle grumbled, placed his phone in his pocket. "The incompetence. Tie your shoe, you cretin."

While Alex raced to retie his short, off-brand-looking boots, his Protected, with renewed vigor, laid into him.