Page 10 of The Not So Super Hero

A fter avoiding trouble the last few days, Zane’s life returned to its mediocre ways.

A pleasing fact for Zane had grown exhausted after the ordeal with the walking catastrophe known as Bailey.

Then tack on Chris’ constant prodding concerning said walking catastrophe.

Ever since the interview he had with Bailey, Chris questioned their “relationship.” A relationship Zane informed him was non-existence, though Chris’ continuous grins stated he did not believe Zane.

It was annoying. Couldn’t Chris be curious about someone else?

Because no one could tell Zane that it wasn’t Bailey’s fault that there was an attack and it caught him.

Six years Zane lived in Ringgold and had never been caught in an attack, yet two months after Bailey arrived and he got into one? That boy was a curse to be avoided.

Speaking of things that needed to be avoided, his alarm went off for work.

Releasing a heavy sigh that would make one think he lost his puppy, Zane sat up.

He stretched like a cat, cracked his limbs, then made his way about his morning routine.

He lethargically brushed his teeth with a blank expression while slipping his shoes on.

Thanks to his placid expression, one wouldn’t imagine that he was silently raging behind his blue eyes about Chris and his constant questions. In record time, Zane finished and left.

Zane avoided the few people that tried to engage him in conversation on the way to work, like the woman handing out flyers on the street or the girl who lost her keys.

He wished he could say he reached safely, but work was not safe.

Though he sat on the sofa in the lounge for the first hour prior to getting up to do the usual.

He mopped the kitchen area, wiped off doorknobs, vacuumed the halls and the lounge.

He was cleaning all the windows in the halls when he reached Bailey’s floor.

Zane hesitated. Blue eyes searched the hall for any sign of Bailey.

Zane made his way in and, much to his pleasure, successfully cleaned the hall with no sign of Bailey. Things were looking up!

It was while he was on his way to getting the trash carts that Zane noticed something familiar on the announcement boards on the first floor.

He stopped in his sloth-like walk to examine the abundance of flyers tacked to the board.

There were so many that the board was difficult to decipher.

Zane leaned forward to peer at a familiar flyer, though.

It clicked that it was the same flyer that the lady was passing out at his apartment complex.

Zane felt guilty now for not reading the flyer.

It was a missing poster and, when he retreated, he realized there were a few more scattered on the board.

Disappearances weren’t highly unusual, seeing as Ringgold was a fairly large city.

However, Zane made a mental note of remembering their faces…

because it said there would be an award. He liked awards.

Zane’s daydreams of what he would do with the extra cash were put on the back burner when his phone vibrated. He ignored the call, continuing on his path to retrieve the trash cart. But then his phone went off again. Groaning, he removed his headphones and answered with an annoyed, “What?”

“Don’t ignore my calls,” Chris said in an amused tone. Zane glared, even if Chris wasn’t around.

“I didn’t ignore it. I didn’t hear it. Headphones, you know.”

“You keep yours on vibrate,” Chris argued. Before Zane could sass back, Chris continued, “We’re getting food today once you get off work.”

“We are?”

“Yeah, see you at the usual place.” He hung up.

Frowning, Zane put his phone away. There was the option of not showing up, but then Chris would storm over to his apartment and beat his ass regardless of the fact that he was an adult living on his own at twenty-two because Chris was evil like that.

So after work, Zane changed out of his uniform in the staff quarters, then left to meet up with Chris.

They went to their favorite diner by the name of Georgie’s that had home cooked style meals.

Zane always argued if Chris wanted home-cooked meals to eat at home or get remarried, but Chris had a sweet spot for Georgie’s.

Whatever. Zane didn’t care as long as he got free food.

Zane found Chris in a booth near the back, right next to the window. Georgie, obviously the owner, waved and said hello to Zane when he walked by. Zane waved halfheartedly back before getting to Chris, where he took a seat across from him to find Chris had already ordered him a beer.

“Drinking in the afternoon, are we? Is there something you want to tell me?” Zane asked teasingly while taking a drink.

“Why must you always imply that I’m an alcoholic?

I only drink because of you.” Chris pointed accusingly at Zane, then took a drink to prove it.

The niceties followed afterwards. Chris asked how Zane was.

Received the usual answers. Zane was kind enough to ask the same questions to Chris. By then, their food arrived.

It was while Chris was drowning his potatoes in hot sauce—who even does that—that Zane asked, “So, what did you want to tell me?”

Chris hummed after shoving a spoonful of red potatoes into his mouth. After swallowing his food, Chris leaned back into the booth. “What makes you think I have something to tell you?”

“Intuition.”

Chris glared. Zane gave an innocent shrug. A few moments of silence passed before Chris gave in with a sigh. “Are you sure you didn’t speak with Boomer during the attack? Did she say anything? Did you see anything?”

“I told you already, no.” Zane looked away from his food to watch Chris’ worried expression. He cocked a brow as if to coax Chris into spitting out whatever was on his mind.

“Listen.” Chris rubbed his forehead, then glanced about the diner as if he expected to be overheard. “Keep in contact with me for a while, ok?”

“Don’t I do that already?”

“Zane, I’m serious. Please, just let me know where you are. If anything strange happens and I mean anything, tell me.”

None of that was a suggestion. Zane knew if he didn’t do as Chris asked, then he would take matters into his own hands. Zane imagined he would show up at his apartment every day or even his work, so with a groan, he agreed.

“Fine, but you’re going to tell me why or is it,” Zane held up his hands to make quotation marks in the air. “Classified detective work?”

“Boy,” Chris said, causing Zane to drop his hands and stuff his face with food. It appeared Chris was not up for Zane’s sass today, so it was best that he shut his mouth or stuff it. “I don’t want to tell you in case I’m entirely off base, so just…do what I ask.”

Though Zane wished to argue, he gave in because Chris was the one who had requested it.

Nodding, Zane gave his silent agreement and Chris smiled while thanking him for ‘giving into an old man’s request.’ Zane rolled his eyes, and the two continued their early dinner with talk of entirely different things, some of which included Bailey.

Chris was not pleased to hear that Zane had been avoiding him so much.

Chris hoped there was more to the relationship, but Zane was hell bent on there not being a relationship.

It was a pity because Chris thought Bailey was exactly the type of person Zane needed in his life, even if he felt the opposite.

Zane suspected Bailey was a bit like Betelgeuse.

Say his name three times and he would appear, not because he showed up at the diner, but because he showed up the next day.

Zane’s peaceful stretch of almost a week shattered upon entering Cassi’s Cafe.

Although he looked inside to make sure Bailey wasn’t around, the universe enjoyed tormenting him.

Not even a minute after Zane reached the counter to order, he heard a familiar voice behind him, “Fancy seeing you here.”

Zane stiffened. His nose twitched, followed by his eye, then his lip.

Biting said lip, Zane took the silver hoop located there between his teeth.

He turned slightly to see Bad Luck Bailey himself donning an amused smile.

He chose to pretend this wasn’t happening by grabbing his coffee and walking away. Unfortunately, Bailey followed.

What was he, a dog? Zane thought he would test the theory, so he turned and pointed at Bailey, who nearly went cross-eyed by how close Zane’s finger was.

“Stay,” Zane ordered.

Bailey gave Zane an incredulous look. “I’m not a dog.”

“It was worth a shot. What do you want?” Zane asked.

With a deep breath, Bailey held up his hand and simply said, “Five.”

“Huh?”

“Five minutes,” Bailey requested, waving his hand before Zane’s eyes. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be out of your hair.”

People in the café stared at the two boys standing in the center. Students walked around them to reach the counter or seats. Some glared as if they thought it would magically make the boys move. Zane hated all the attention and hated even more the one who was causing it.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Zane considered his options.

The best way to get Bailey to leave him alone was to give the boy what he wanted; five minutes.

This way, they could return to before; Bailey would do something stupid, Zane would happen to see it, he would laugh and they wouldn’t say anything else to each other.

“Fine, five minutes.” Zane felt stupid for holding up his own hand, but Bailey was thrilled based on his eager smile.

He led Zane to a booth, where they both sat.

Before Bailey said a word, Zane held up his hand to stop him.

Bailey tilted his head to the side curiously when Zane retrieved his phone to sit on the table with a counter on it.

“Really?” Bailey huffed.