Saphora: vol.1 Retention (The Athena Universe) (16 page)

BOOK: Saphora: vol.1 Retention (The Athena Universe)
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She stared at him for a minute, almost caught off guard. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke.

“That day. Didn’t you come over to talk to me because you found me attractive?” she asked rather bluntly. Maverick’s eyes widened as the conversation turned.

“I – no! I mean – yes you’re attractive, but … I didn’t – uh, I … I wasn’t going to do anything
,” he said, averting his eyes as he felt the blood rush to his cheeks. “Talk to you. I was going to
talk
to you.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“Well … There was your hair, I think. And maybe –“

“They’re real
,” she said, cutting him off with slight laughter. He stopped, almost not registering the response. Before he could say ‘what’, she continued. “The colour of my hair and eyes? They’re real.”

“… Really?” he asked, trying to refrain from touching either one. She nodded, noticing the sudden restraint in his body language.
“But how is that possible? I’ve never seen anyone with natural hair or eyes like that.”

Saphora shrugged, looking up.

“I’m not like most people.”

“Err, what about you? You wanted to talk. Don’t you have any questions?” he asked, trying to turn the tables. Saphora paused, amused
and shrugged. With a sigh, Maverick cleared his throat and nodded, coming up with a compromise. “Alright, how about this? We ask each other questions. I’ll ask, you answer. Then you ask, and I’ll answer. Okay?”

“And what if we run out of questions? What then?”

“Then … The winner gets a prize.”

Saphora paused, this time
her body language harsh. And Maverick took notice.

“I’m not sleeping with you
,” she said bluntly. And again, the blood rushed to Maverick’s cheeks as he hurried to defend his intentions.

“No! I know! I’m just – I’m just saying. That’s not gonna be my – Do you think I’m trying to get you to sleep with me?” he asked, flipping the situation. Saphora blinked, not expecting to have the question flipped on her.
To her own surprise, she felt the blood rush to her face, and she stammered over her own words.

“What? Uh, well – You agreed to talk to me and you said you found me attractive.”

“So I want to sleep with you?”

“Well, I … Sorry. I didn’t mean to assume that … Fran has just been warning me my entire life about men.”

“Fran?”

“Oh, my
-- she’s like my mom.”

“Oh. Wait. Does that mean … You’
ve never had a boyfriend?”

There was a silence, giving him his answer. He couldn’t help but smile, making Saphora frown.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing
,” he said, clearing his throat and putting up his hand. “Sorry. Should we start? I promise not ask you to sleep with me if I win,” he offered. Saphora nodded, deciding to ignore the previous question.

“Okay.”

“Alright. Since I asked that question, why don’t you ask one?”

Saphora thought.

“How long have you been working at the café?”

“About two years. I’m surprised it’s been that long. People come and go from that place all the time.
What made you come in that day? I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you in my two years of working there. Or my ten plus years of being a customer. And I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you if I did.”

“I don’t get out much … I was looking for somewhere to relax after having a stressful day.”

“Oh … I’m sorry that I didn’t help make that happen.”

“It’s alright, I-“

“No, and while I’m at it I want to apologize for saying what I said to you. It was such a rude question and I was just desperate for you not to leave. I’m sorry.”

Saphora was silent as she listened to the seemingly heart-felt apology.
And to her surprise, she believed it. It wasn’t something she was used to, so it took her a moment to respond properly.

“It’s okay … I wasn’t really socially accepting that day.”

“Why is that?”

Saphora paused. It confused her how her wall could
fluctuate so frequently during their conversation. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Should she be defensive? Of course she should. She was sitting in a car in the middle of nowhere with a stranger. And a man at that. Should she be open? She didn’t know what open was. But she knew it involved giving away information. Could she afford to give out information? She had never thought so, what with all her thoughts about what would happen to her if she did. If she were to let anything slip. But the way he was talking, she’d never experienced before. Not from a stranger. People always just stared at her. Talked behind her back once she had walked away, or even insulted her. She had every reason to put her guard up. But with every word this guy spoke, she was finding less reasons to keep it up.

“ … It’s my turn to ask the question
,” she said, avoiding an answer. “How long did it take you to save for this car?” She looked around at the smooth interior of the car as Maverick chuckled.

“My dad bought it for me on my eighteenth birthday. It took me about six months to save to get it painted black though.
It was blue before. … Do you have a job?”

“No. Fran doesn’t want me to work. Why didn’t you like the blue?”

Maverick shrugged.

“I like black … You seem to mention
this Fran a lot, despite the fact that it sounded like you were upset with her.”

“That’s not a question
,” she argued.

“Right … Why won’t you talk to me about what’s bothering you?”

Saphora frowned, looking at him again.

“Because I can’t
.”

“But you came all the way out here with me
. Surely you thought you could talk to me about whatever it was.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking. There’s no way I could tell you anything about what’s going on in
my life. I don’t even know you,” Saphora grumbled, running her fingers through her hair and scratching her head in frustration. Maverick was silent, letting her catch her breath after her exertion of emotion.

“So why did you come?” he said, after some time of awkward silence.

Saphora sighed, dropping her hand into her lap as her other hand went to swing open the car door. Maverick sat dumbfounded as he watched her get out of the car. He hurried to get out of his own seat and rushed around the car to meet up with her.

“Whoa! Whoa! What are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“What?”

“This was a mistake. I’m sorry I wasted your time,” she said, going to push past him.

“What – Wait? Wait a minute!” he said, moving back in front of her until she stopped walking. His hands were up submissively as he pleaded with her. “Why are you leaving?”

“I’m tired of answering questions. I’ve been questioned all day. My honesty. My sanity. I don’t want to answer any more questions,” she said, looking for a way to move around him. But with each attempt she took, Maverick cut her off.

“Okay – Okay, whoa! I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to know why you chose to talk to me.”

Saphora grumbled, standing still and looking up at him. His body tensed as he wondered if she was going to bum-rush him to get past. But instead she rolled her eyes.

“I wanted to talk to someone who was nice to me
,” she finally answered. A bit lost, Maverick just stood, staring at her, making her sigh and go more into depth. “Nice? I wanted to talk to someone who was nice to me. And I couldn’t talk to Fran. You were the only other person I thought of, okay? Are you happy?”

Maverick’s brows furrowed.

“I was nice to you … That’s all?” he said, with somewhat of a laugh as his hand reached up to rub his temple. He shook his head, unable to contain his smile. Saphora frowned, seeing the laugh and scoffed, ready to move past him. “That’s all it was? Me being nice? What horror have you been through in your life to feel the safety to lean on someone from one act of kindness?” he asked, looking up at her. Her eyes widened, but didn’t narrow. She was offended at the question that made her sound naïve. Her hands rose to push at Maverick’s chest, and he stumbled back in surprise.

“Not one t
hat I’m going to share with you,” she said, her voice guarded. Maverick raised his hands in defense in case she went for another blow. “Leave me alone,” she said, moving to walk past him. But again, he moved to block her path.

“Wait! Wait.
Look. I know I’m a stranger. I get it. You have every right to be skeptical. You do. But I’m pretty darn proud of the way my parents raised me. I’m not about to disrespect a woman that has done nothing to me. Look. Just talk to me. Please? What have you got to lose?” he said, trying to make talking to him a positive. But Saphora frowned as she answered,

“Everything
”.

 

 

             
“Saphora! Please open the door, Saphora,” Fran begged from outside Saphora’s bedroom. Her balled fist constantly coming into contact with the wooden door. Saphora stayed still on her bed, looking up at the ceiling. Fran’s persistent nagging had kept her up since six in the morning, and she had just gotten home at two. It was now almost 8:30AM. The conversation with Maverick ended up lasting until about 1:30 in the morning. It was interesting, to say the least. But Saphora couldn’t recap on that right now. All she could think about was Fran banging on her door.

And what would follow if she let her in.

“Saphora. I will get the keys to open this door,” she threatened. She was waiting for that threat – buying time. Standing up, she slowly made her way to the door, and opened it to face Fran. The moment the door opened, Fran’s hand stopped, and awkwardly lowered to her side. Her chest heaved as she looked across at the stoned-faced Saphora. Before Fran could say anything else, Saphora cut in.

“I don’t want to talk about what you want to talk about.”

Saphora had done a lot of thinking during her talk with Maverick. The fact that she felt bad about taking him away from work registered with her. She no longer blamed Fran for being at work. It was a responsibility she had, after all. And she had already given the previous days to be with her during her recovery from … Jones. So why be angry with her for working? Especially when that work provides so much.

“I don’t blame you for being at work anymore. So please. Can we not do this?”

Fran’s expression changed from that of pleading to mild shock.


… Really?”

“Yes. So please-“

“So then where were you?”

“What?”

“Last night. Why didn’t you come home?”

Saphora hesitated, not having made the connection.
Fran had thought that her reason for staying away from home all night was her anger towards her. But now that that had been cleared, she was curious as to where she was and why.

“What were you doing?” Fran continued, with a little more worry in her voice.

“Nothing,” Saphora answered a bit too quickly. Fran’s shoulders slumped.

“Saphora.”

“Nothing. I was just walking around town to clear my head and think about things.”

“Oh … Well you could have answered my calls at least. I was worried sick.”

“Sorry.”

Fran let out a grumbling sigh as she crossed her arms.

“Well I took off work today. So that I could be with you when you show the police the area where the tree fell.”

Saphora’s head raised, as did her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Y
ou told the police that you’d show them where-“

“No, I know. But … you’re going to go? You don’t have to go.”

“I know that now, but I felt so bad that you were upset about me missing the interrogation to go to work. I didn’t want that happening again.”

“But you really don’t have to-“

“I’m going. Now the police will be here in an hour so hurry up and get ready,” Fran ordered, about to turn around and walk away. But Saphora stopped her.

“Who else is going?” she asked. Fran turned around, questioning her with her eyes. “Is Dr. Lupin going?” There was a pause.

“You know he has to.”

“Is he going to show them my files?” Fran was silent. “Is he?”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“But he can’t do that!”

“Honey, if the police have plausible reason to gain access to your files then I don’t know what Dr. Lupin will do. You can speak to them about it when they get here. Right now you need to get ready,” Fran said, not really wanting to get into an argument right after avoiding a previous one.

This time Saphora let her walk away. She knew that Fran wouldn’t have any idea about what the police were planning to do. But the possibility that they could get their hands on information about her before she could irked her. Not because they might find something that would help proving that she had murdered Jones. But because she, in her several years of attending therapy, and watching those files grow each year, she had never been able to look at
them. She thought that if anyone should have access to them, it should be her.

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