"It's hard to believe in coincidence, but it's even harder to believe in anything else." ― John Green
Today's a muggy day in the little Mexican town of Copainalá, which I've decided to call home for the next few weeks. The tan cobblestone streets are lined with shabby yet colorful buildings. I perched myself upon a small pile of crates, playing with the sapphire necklace I'd had my entire life, observing the crowded local marketplace, looking for who I could pickpocket next. My main targets are usually tourists, distracted by the beautiful locale and loud vendors. This has been my life ever since I ran away from the orphanage three years ago.
Suddenly, my attention was grabbed by two men who looked quite out of place. The younger man looks to be in his early 30's. His face is tall with a sharp jawline, his dark brown hair spiked to a messy point. He's wearing well-worn jeans and a tight gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There's also an unusual-looking silver ring hanging from his necklace. The older man, who seemed to be his grandpa in his late 50's, was chubby with a thick, bushy mustache and short, gray hair. He too is wearing jeans, and is sporting a corny yellow Hawaiian shirt. Being lost in conversation while walking down the street, they're perfect targets.
Stealthily hopping down from my perch, I snuck behind my victims. I've never been noticed while doing lifts, which has kept me from having to deal with prison.
I watched the two take their seats at a small food stand with a few tables surrounding it. I waited for a few moments then stalked towards them. I spotted the young man's leather wallet sticking out of his back pocket. When the old man was looking away I casually walked by their table, grabbing the wallet as I passed. At first, I thought I succeeded, but my heart dropped when I suddenly heard the old man's gravelly voice.
"That was a pretty sloppy lift, kid!" he scolded. For a moment I had stopped dead, as this was the first time I had ever been caught. I quickly scanned the marketplace for an escape, then sprinted for the nearest alleyway; I refuse to go to jail.
As the young man pursued me, I tried to lose him down the town's twisted alleyways. Getting desperate, I cut down an unfamiliar corridor. To my dismay, it led to a dead end.
"'Bout time I caught ya!" the young man huffed. I tried looking for another way to run, but there was nowhere I could go.
"I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to talk," he said, gently reaching out his arm. I didn't let my guard down, but I was willing to listen.
"You're pretty fast for your age. Reminds me of myself when I was younger. I didn't even notice your lift!"
I was shocked at how nice he was being, especially since I just stole his wallet. "You're not… mad?" I asked.
Before he could answer, the older man came shambling around the corner. "Nate, ya could've slowed down just a little! I'm not as young as I used to be, ya know. I see you've at least caught up to your new friend here. Come on, grab your wallet, we've got work to do."
The younger man, evidently named Nate, paused for a moment.
"Just hold on a minute, Sully. I think she could be useful. She's pretty small but obviously has some skills. If we could help her hone those, I think she would be a big help with the job."
I raised an eyebrow, curious at this exchange.
The old man, who I now know is named Sully, began reprimanding Nate like a parent would with a child."Nathan, I don't think it's such a good idea. I mean, look at her: she's just a common thief who happens to be slightly above-average at lifts, which, by the way, I'm pretty disappointed you hadn't noticed when she used you for target practice. If I hadn't said anything you probably never would've went after her!"
This guy clearly has a very low opinion of me already.
Nate faced back to me, still trapped in the corner. "Look, I'm not going to report you, but on one condition. You have to help us with a job we were assigned. We need someone of your size and skill set, and we can help you become a pro like us." I stood there still catching my breath from the chase, staring up at the man who just said he needs me for something.
No one's ever needed me for anything before.
It's not like I haven't done work like this before, plus it'll help me improve my already great skills. It's not like I have much of a choice right now, anyway. Nate continued to stare at me, patiently awaiting my answer.
"You promise you won't call the cops on me?" I asked.
"I promise," Nate avowed. As I heard those words, I somehow felt a small connection to him, like I almost knew he's telling the truth.
I reluctantly nodded, still not completely sure I can trust him. "Okay, I'll go with you."
"Great! By the way, what's your name?" Nate asked, reaching out his hand for me to shake.
"The name's Lillian." I mumbled. I lightly shook his worn hand and returned his wallet to its proper owner.
"Nice to meet ya, Lillian! Nathan Drake, but you can just call me Nate, as I'm sure you heard this grump call me," Nate joked as he gestured to himself.
He turned back to Sully, who was standing there with his arms crossed and a scowl covering his face. "So I guess this makes you like the grandpa of the group, huh Sully?"
"I'm not that old, Nate. We're not playing The Three Bears, here."
"Sure we're not, Sully. Come on, let's go back to the table, I'm starving!"