Chapter 4
As we stop at a red light in an intersection, I take a deep breath, trying to calm down my heart.
Desmond chuckles, asking, "You okay back there?" I narrow my eyes behind my eye shield of my helmet.
"Am I okay?" I exclaim, my voice muffled because of the helmet. "How fast were you going back there?!"
Desmond replies nonchalantly, "About 60 miles per hour."
I pause before I narrow my eyes, my tone dangerous. "Is that above the speed limit?" I can feel him tense in my grasp.
"Just 10 miles per hour higher..."
I frown. "You can get a ticket for that!" I scold in a harsh whisper, afraid that pedestrians on the crosswalk up ahead and on the sidewalks beside us would hear.
Desmond looks back at me with a meek response. "Sorry, it's a force of habit." My frown broadens as I tighten my grip on Desmond's shoulders. He flinches and leans forward a bit. "Ow! Hey!" He shakes off my hands and mumbles as he faces forward again, "Damn, what a death grip..." He sighs and utters, "Alright, it won't happen again." I nod with a smile, lowering my hands to my thighs.
"Thank you very much."
He shrugs. "Don't mention it..." I raise an eyebrow before I rest my forehead on Desmond's back, letting my muscles relax from the tense state they were in due to Desmond's driving. I feel Desmond moving his head to look left and right.
He mumbles, "Hey, don't look now, but it seems like we're getting a few stares." I freeze and use my peripherals to look to the sidewalk to our left. 'A few' is definitely an understatement.
People sitting outside of the cafe on the corner of the left street are watching us, and I notice that one of them, a woman in her 60s, is staring at me with a look a disgust. Even citizens stopped in their walks to take a moment to watch us, some with a similar face as the old woman from the cafe. I lower my head and choose to look to the right. A few people in their cars beside us are looking at us as well. I look lower my eyes to stare down at my lap. What's their problem? Can they tell that I'm younger than Desmond? Said man's voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
"Just ignore them."
I stare at him in amazement, before I nod with an obediant, "Okay." The light turns green, and Desmond places his hands on the handlebar again.
He pauses, gesturing to the left. "Hey, you see that old bag over there?" I blink and look to where he gestured to, to find the old woman at the cafe. "Don't hit me or we'll crash, okay?" I unconsciously nod at his words, before they finally register in my mind as he revs the motorcycle forward, turning around the corner where the cafe is located. I instantly grab hold of Desmond, and I watch as his left hand lets go of the handlebar. He lifts that hand out to the side, the back of it facing the cafe and the old woman, and closes down every finger, except his middle. My mouth hangs open within my helmet, and I can imagine the haughty mischievous smirk on Desmond's face as the old lady gives an appalled and shocked face. I resist the urge to yell at him as we successfully round the corner, and by then Desmond has already lowered his hand to place it back on the handlebar.
I choose then to ask loudly, "What was that for?"
"Oh, c'mon, you saw the looks she was giving us. Pardon my french, but she was pissing me off." I blink, pondering for a moment, before I give a defeated sigh.
"Ugh, whatever...Have you decided on where to go yet?"
Desmond hums in thought before he suggests, "How about Central Park?" I arch an eyebrow at the suggestion before shrugging.
"Sure, I don't see why not."
He nods, and he yells, "You might wanna hang on!" I instinctively, yet unconsciously, wrap my arms around his stomach at a fast speed, completely aware of his driving skills. Strangely, instead of feeling the lurch of the motorcycle, I feel Desmond pause, but it's only for a few seconds. The lurch I'm waiting for finally occurs, and I tighten my hold as Desmond suddenly swerves the motorcycle into the left lane, and, in a slight daze, I watch as all of the cars, buildings, and signs whoosh past us. With so many things on my mind, I'm too tired to scold the tan brunette.
* * *
I glance around as Desmond disembarks his motorcycle, soon turning around to help me off as well, and he takes my hand in his to make sure I don't lose my balance as I swing my leg over to stand on both feet.
"Never been here before?" Desmond asks as he releases my hand. I shake my head, watching a couple of laughing kids run by, chasing each other.
"No, I haven't..." Desmond is silent for a moment before gestures with his hand to the dirt path, his smile welcoming and warm.
"C'mon. I wanna show you something." I blink at his hand, before my eyes travel up his arm to meet his brown ones. I meekly return the smile, before I walk past his arm and down the path, with Desmond casually striding besides me.
"So...will I be seeing you at my school more in the future?" I turn my head to look at him, and he only grins with a laugh, playfully locking my head in his left arm to pull me close.
"Maybe..." he drawls teasingly. I roll my eyes, leaving Desmond's arm around me as we continue walking.
"Want to play a game?" I ask suddenly. Desmond blinks and he arches an eyebrow.
"What game?"
"It's a fact game. I tell you something about myself, then vice versa," I explain.
Desmond pauses and he hesitantly says, "Okay, I'll play your game. You first."
I ponder a bit before casually uttering, "My favorite color is blue." I smile and look to Desmond, an expectant look on my face. He's silent for a bit until he looks at me/
"You're the only person who knows my real name." I blink and shake out of my friend's grasp, looking at him dubiously.
"Seriously?"
He nods with a proud grin. "Seriously." I open my mouth to ask something, but I feel a callused hand covering my mouth, silencing me. "Ah ah ah," Desmond tuts and I blush subtly out of embarrassment, shrinking back from behind his hand. "It's not a question game. Your turn." He removes his hand and my shoulders sag before I cross my arms.
"Okay. My dad left when I was a small toddler," I say calmly. Strangely, it doesn't hurt to say it. Probably because I don't remember anything about him...there's nothing to remember him by except pictures and his old study. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I turn my head to see Desmond staring at me with sympathetic eyes, and I smile meekly before gently removing his hand. "It's okay." I stretch my arms, straining out, "I don't remember him anyways. Your turn."
He crosses his arms, and smirks as he says, "Okay. I ran away from my parents when I was 16." I gawk and he simply shrugs as he adds, "Let's just say that they wanted me to live a life I don't exactly like." I blink, and I look down.
"I see..." I smile as I look up at the tree branches looming overhead, with the sun's rays shining through. "I've never been on a roller coaster before."
"Hm, remind me to take you on one." I blink and look to my companion, who wittily throws in, "And believe me when I say this, I will try to force you to get on one."
He grins and I deadpan as I mutter, "Great...I'm looking forward to it. Anyways, it's your turn again." He sighs as he scratches the back of his neck, mumbling to himself as he searches for something to tell me.
"Um...my favorite color is gray." I open my mouth to reply, but I'm cut off when Desmond says, "Hey. we're almost there." He points to the top of a hill, where two trees are an equal distance away from each other, their branches reaching over and touching, making it look like a large doorway. I raise an eyebrow, and I yelp when Desmond gently grabs my wrist and slightly pulls me forward. "C'mon, let's go." I nod, and he begins to jog, with me having to run to stay at his side. He's so fast! I almost gawk in amazement. I don't complain about his speed as we head for the top of the hill. Desmond releases my hand when we stop underneath the two trees, and I pause to catch my breath as Desmond grins. "This is the place I wanted to show you." I gasp, my eyes widening as my eyes rest on the amazing sight before me. Desmond holds out his arms, displaying the landscape as he says, "Renia, I give you the Central Park Reservoir."
There, surrounded by trees and greenery, with the towering buildings of New York rising behind the healthy evergreens, lies a large, blue body of water. The water's small delicate waves shimmer underneath the sun's rays, and I can make out a dozens of people sitting at the banks or lying in the grass. If the weather had been cloudy and dull today, like in winter, this sight wouldn't be as beautiful as it is now.
"Oh my God..." I whisper in awe, my hand unconsciously rising to cover my mouth, hovering a few inches away from my lips as I add, "It's absolutely breathtaking..." Desmond chuckles at his place beside me and he soon follows my gaze.
The brown-haired man says softly, "I come here everytime I have something on my mind, whether it's about my past or about my rent." He chuckles under his breath and looks at me. "I thought you'd like it. It may not be Venice or anything, but it's one of the most beautiful places here in New York." I slowly smile at Desmond's words and I turn to him.
"Thank you so much for taking me here. It means a lot to me." Desmond shrugs, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets.
"You're welcome." He begins to walk down the hill, his eyes still looking back at me as he descends. "Let's go down to the banks. We can hang out there." I nod, following him down the hill, passing a few people here and there, until we reach the banks of the reservoir. We sit down and Desmond sighs in relief, immediately falling backwards to lie down on his back, with his hands folded behind his head. He smiles up at the sky, his eyes closed, and I smile at his form before I turn my gaze to the water of the reservoir. A sparrow takes flight from a nearby tree, chirping, and I watch as it soars above the tree line.
"...Desmond?" I hesitantly call in a mutter.
"Mm?" Desmond drones, telling me that I have his attention.
"...Do you think that the assassins from my ancestor's time...still exist today?" I don't receive a reply, and I sigh, shaking my hand to dismiss my question. "Um, forget it. It was a stupid question..." I hear shuffling from behind, and I see Desmond sitting beside me, staring out at the water.
"...You're that serious about your ancestry, huh?" I look down shamefully, giving a short and curt nod. "...Yeah, if I had to guess, they're still here today." He turns his head to face me and I feel his hand grasp my chin lightly, turning my head to face him, my eyes meeting his brown ones, as he continues slowly, "Only now, they're known to some as mercenaries or hit men." I remain silent, fighting down the blush rising to my cheeks as I watch Desmond stare at me with stern eyes. "Renia, I want you to be careful with this investigation case on your ancestor. Dig too deep and you might know too much. Eventually you'll become an assassination target, and the assassins will try to kill you. You understand that?"
I tense at his words, before softly replying with a nod, "Yeah..." Desmond lowers his hand, and I turn my head to face the reservoir, my voice thoughtful as I mumble softly, "I guess...I never thought about what would happen. I wouldn't have thought of the possibility of getting myself in danger." I smile weakly, my eyes shifting from the water of the reservoir to Desmond. "Thank you for telling me that. I'll try not to get killed." The tan man quirks an eyebrow, that signature smile of his on his face again.
"But you won't stop trying, huh?"
Surprisingly, I smirk at him, and I reply, "Of course not." Desmond leans back, his arms supporting him from behind as he huffs with a smirk.
"Then I guess I'm wasting my breath." I giggle at this, until I suddenly hear the sound of some type of music box playing from afar. Desmond hears it as well, and he turns his head to the dirt path on the top of the hill. I follow his gaze to see a light blue van with large lettering on its side.
"An ice cream truck," I utter, staring at the vehicle as the window on its side opens, to reveal a man waiting for customers. Desmond suddenly stands up, and bends over to lend me his right hand.
"Hey, why don't we go get some?" I blink, before stammering about money and the cost of the frozen foods, and Desmond cuts me off with a chuckle. "Don't worry, it's on me." I trail off, looking up at him.
"...Are you sure?" He nods, smiling warmly.
"Absolutely." I suddenly find myself staring up at this man, when a flash of white lines enter my vision, and Desmond's form alters with a blur. For a split second, his hoods is up, but it has a smooth point down the middle, and it's covering his upper face. He's wearing a brown glove of some sort on his right hand, and two shirt collars are extending out from behind his neck. What the...?
My thought trails of as Desmond's voice rings in my ears, calling out jokingly, "Renia? I'm right here, space cadet." I blink, shaking my head as Desmond returns to his normal form and clothing, and everything slowly becomes well focused again.
"H-huh?" Desmond gestures to his outstretched hand, which is still hovering before me. I stare at it, and my mind registers the situation. "Oh. Sorry about that." I place my hand in his and he grips it, before hoisting me up to my feet. "Something just crossed my mind, and I guess I got stuck on it." He shrugs, and points to the ice cream truck.
"Don't worry about it. We better hurry. A bunch of kids are already getting in line." I nod, and I follow him up the hill. He was right about kids getting line. About 5 or 6 kids are in line at the ice cream truck's window, with their parents watching them from the side. We get in line, and Desmond pulls out his wallet from his right jeans pocket, before looking at me.
"What do you want?" I lean to the side to look past the children in front of us to the poster on the truck. I lean back to shrug at Desmond.
"Vanilla's fine." He nods, and I watch as he digs through his wallet for a few dollars. "What about you? What are you going to get?" He looks at me, with some dollar bills clutched in his hand.
"Chocolate," he replies. I continue to watch him as he counts the bills in his hand, his brows knitted in concentration and his eyes slightly narrowed as he stares down at the currency in his hands. He eyes occasionally flashed up to the poster on the ice cream truck, most likely checking to see how much the ice cream costs. "Is there something on my face?" I blush, immediately turning my head to look the other way, my eyes wide in shock. How did he know I was staring at him? He was so focused on the money-he didn't even look at me. He- My train of thought stops as my eyes rest on a man sitting on one of the park benches. I quirk an eyebrow, wondering why this man looks so familiar, until my mind suddenly makes the connection. That's...that's the guy from the library! My thoughts flash back to that moment in the library, when that man in the black suit rudely bumped into Rebecca, before leaving the building. He's wearing the same suit, too, I note. The man is reading a newspaper, with one leg on top of the other.
"Renia?" I tense and turn my head back to Desmond, to see him pointing at the ice cream truck. "It's our turn." I follow his finger, to see the ice cream man waiting patiently for us at the window. I laugh nervously.
"Oh. Right." I ignore his questioning look as I we walk towards the window, and he hands the ice cream man the money.
"One vanilla and one chocolate ice cream cone please." It sounds like a mumble, but fortunately the ice cream man hears the order. I look at Desmond, my right eyebrow arched in curiousity, before I remember what Desmond told me back at my home.
'I'm...an introvert, you could say...' I blink, before thinking to myself, I guess he wasn't kidding when he said that...
The man takes the dollar bills, before counting them and placing them in his cash register. He walks off to the right, disappearing from our view. After several minutes, the ice cream man returns to the window, with two ice cream cones in his hand.
"Here you go, sir."
Desmond gently takes the frozen foods from the man, muttering under his breath, "Thanks." Desmond hands me my vanilla ice cream, and as we turn to walk away, we hear the ice cream man utter,
"Have a great day." Desmond doesn't reply, so I opt to look back at the man with a grin.
"Don't worry, we will. You too!" The man simply waves and I face Desmond as he sits underneath one of the trees beside the path. He gestures to the spot next to him, and I take a seat beside him. We begin to ear our ice creams in silence, and as I lick at mine, I look at Desmond through the corners of my eyes. "You know, you could have asked me to order for our ice cream," I utter. Desmond pauses in eating his ice cream, his tongue stopping midway in taking a lick. I try not to laugh as he leans back, licking his lips to rid of the chocolate smears around his mouth.
"What makes you think that I didn't want to do it myself?" he asks challengingly, and I tap my chin with my index finger.
"Mm, how about the fact that you were talking as if saying one word would make the whole world fall apart?" Desmond's facial expression becomes annoyed and I laugh, until he leans toward me.
"What? I told you that I'm an introvert."
I smile at him. "I know. That was the first time I've seen it." He blinks, before he leans back, turning his attention back to his ice cream.
"Yeah, well, trust me. You'll be seeing it a lot more in the future." I shrug, my smile still on my face, as I continue eating my ice cream. I raise my head to stare up at the sky, watching as the large clouds float by slowly, their whiteness standing out in the blue. My mind flashes back to when I first met Desmond.
The image of when I bumped into him makes me smile wider, and I softly utter among the silence between us, "...You know what, Desmond?" He takes a few seconds to reply.
"What?" I hesitate slightly, mulling over the next thing I'm going to say, but I push down my hesitation. "...I'm glad I bumped into you that day." Desmond chuckles softly from beside me, and I look at him, to see that he's smiling at me as well.
"Me, too." My smile turns into a grin, and Desmond asks, "So, wanna tell me about your friends?"
I nod, and I start off with, "Well, there's Taylor, who's been my friend since 8th grade and she's very energetic..." I continue happily, while Desmond listens, watching me with a warm simper, and I almost blush with a shy grin as I suddenly think to myself, He has a nice smile.