We won't be caught up

The setting is planet Earth, the city of Chicago __________________________________________ Since then, Cross had been driving around the city alone after work. Strangely enough, he had started to enjoy getting stuck in traffic. While waiting in line, he would entertain himself by listening to the music playing in the cars around him. The songs were in different languages, but that didn't detract from the experience. And now, he was doing the same thing. He looked around, listening to the sounds, and he could clearly hear a melody coming from the coffee-colored Volkswagen Käfer. It was a pleasant, slow song: Siempre que te pregunto Que, cuándo, cómo y dónde Tú siempre me respondes Quizás, quizás, quizás Y así pasan los días Y yo, desesperando Y tú, tú contestando Quizás, quizás, quizás Estás perdiendo el tiempo Pensando, pensando Por lo que más tú quieras Hasta cuándo? Hasta cuándo? In the next traffic jam, he got stuck near the Astoria Hotel. A nearby Dodge Charger, painted sand-colored, played: Star Called Sun Near a star called Sun It was there that my mom came undone Sounds of a summer parade 90.5 in the shade She drifted off on the 4th of July A holiday look in her eyes Said goodbye to a lifetime of pain She died in a mid-summer rain She said There's one million stars For every little grain of sand down there She floated up like a rocket in space The misery gone from her face Flying through comets and stars Out past the canyons on Mars. Something was drawing Cross to this hotel. Maybe he was worried that Limburger would try to hurt Miss Deloren again. But no matter how much he looked at her balcony, nothing happened. Once, he saw her silhouette. Flora was standing on the balcony, looking out into the distance. "I wonder if she likes night walks? He thought suddenly, watching her. "What does she like anyway?" Gradually, staying on Earth didn't feel much different from staying on Mars. The daily routine of working in the workshop, exploring the city, and playing the guitar on the roofs of nearby dilapidated buildings. However, Patron began to notice that his friend had become more pensive. Sometimes, he would smile at something while engrossed in his work, but he hesitated to ask about the reason. "How's your pretty girl doing?" Vincent once asked him when the inseparable trio returned to the garage after another heroic deed and the destruction of Limburger's tower. "I don't understand what you're talking about," Cross said. "Come on, you can't tell me you're just driving around town by yourself," the white guy persisted, apparently having made it his hobby to harass Cross. Without answering, he returned to his work. "Vinnie, leave him alone," Charlie said, turning on the TV. On the screen, a dark-skinned brunette was interviewing Flora Deloren. She was answering questions about the conglomerate's work. The girl was smiling, and it seemed that what had happened to her had long been forgotten. Looking at her, an inexplicable feeling came over Cross. "Answer the question: who did it? Who rescued you from your captors?" the reporter asked. "Unfortunately, my savior didn't introduce himself," the girl said with a sad smile. "Was it a policeman?" was the next leading question. "It's hard to say. He was dressed like a civilian," Flora replied. "Who is this mysterious knight without fear or reproach? I hope the police will find out," the woman concluded. "Ta-daaaam, here's our mysterious knight without fear or reproach," said Vincent, putting his arm around Cross's shoulders. "Oh, look, his eyes are shining, and his cheeks are flushed. He seems to like the girl." "Vincent, that's enough," Trottle said, noticing the irritated look on Cross's face. "Oh, come on, if you like a girl, and you can't help but like someone like Flora, why the hell isn't he acting? Just don't tell me you don't want to meet her," Vincent persisted. "I want to... But I can't just show up in front of her like that," Cross admitted reluctantly. "Write a letter and set up a date," Modo advised. "But I can't," Cross said, as he had only received the ability to understand and speak Earth's language, as well as some knowledge of the planet and its people, through Carabina's tactile telepathy. "Well, I can help with that," Charlie said, walking over to him. He touched her head with his antennae, and within a few seconds, he was able to read and write. "Let's see what we've got," Charlie said, leading him to a small office in the garage. She sat him down at a desk, placed a piece of paper and a pen in front of him, and he began to write. At first, it was a bit awkward to write in a language he was unfamiliar with, but he soon got the hang of it. His handwriting was a bit sloppy, but it was still legible. "It's not bad for a first time," she concluded. "Thank you," he said. "Okay, I won't bother you," the girl said when he looked at her meaningfully, and she left. It took him a long time to figure out how to start the letter. "Dear Flora"... Too personal; "Dear Flora"... Too sugary; "Miss Flora"... Too formal, we were on a first-name basis, he thought. But after some thought, he began to write. As soon as evening came and it was completely dark, Cross was riding his bike down the road, heading towards the city center. Under his leather jacket, there was an envelope with a letter, and Cross was hoping that the girl would accept his proposal. Flora was sitting on the sofa in the hall. The evening was pleasantly cool. A light breeze stirred the transparent curtains. The balcony doors were open. The girl stared intently at the monitor screen of her laptop, checking the estimates over and over again. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed some movement on the balcony. Flora involuntarily shuddered and got up from the sofa, slowly walked to the exit to the balcony, carefully looked out. The balcony was empty. She stepped out and looked around again: people were appearing on the neighboring ones, wanting to get some fresh air. Someone nodded at her in greeting. "It's all nerves," the girl thought, which seemed to her. However, when she was about to sit down in a wicker chair, she saw an envelope lying on it. An unpleasant feeling crept into my soul. Someone was on her balcony again. "Maybe I should put a guard here," Flora thought, and she opened the envelope, took out the letter, and began to read. "Flora, I had so much to say to you back then, so much to discuss, but the circumstances were not the most suitable. I would very much like to continue our conversation, and if you agree, leave the balcony doors open tomorrow evening... Your savior." "There he is again... Well, I have some questions for you, too," the girl thought, and suddenly she heard the sound of guitar strings in the distance. She looked around the roofs of the nearby houses, but the darkness was falling, and the unknown guitarist was safely hidden from view. Cross returned to the hideout in high spirits, although he wasn't sure if Flora would accept his proposal, but something told him that everything would be fine, and he couldn't wait for the next evening. "The main thing is to make a good impression. If it goes well, she'll be at your feet," Vincent advised Cross as he prepared to leave the next evening. There was no point in explaining that this wasn't a romantic date. "Vini's quite the Casanova," Trottle chuckled. Cross left the garage. It was already dark. The sky was clear and cloudless, and a scattering of stars shone above his head. Flora had been busy all day, and had completely forgotten about her rescuer's visit. In the evening, she was sitting in the living room, reading a magazine as usual. As always, the balcony doors were open to let the night air into the room. She stood up and walked over to the wall to turn on the ceiling light, as the wall lamp above the couch was not bright enough for reading. "What a beautiful night, my lady," she heard a soft voice behind her, startling her whole body and dropping the magazine. The girl slowly turned around. There was a dark silhouette in the doorway of the balcony. Flora recognized her savior. He was dressed the same as he was then. Nothing has changed in his appearance. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "I wanted to continue our conversation," Cross replied. "What makes you think I want to talk to you?" the girl continued, staring at him intently. "You left the balcony open," the biker said, a little confused. Then Flora remembered the letter. "Well, come in... Or will you just stand on the balcony?" The girl said, returning to the sofa, and looked at him expectantly. Cross entered the room and looked around. It was a luxurious apartment. "You live a big life," he concluded. "It's a habit. You can take off your helmet. It must be uncomfortable," the girl said, as the boy was still wearing it. Cross froze, horrified by the thought of her reaction to his appearance when she realized that it wasn't a costume. The mouse frantically searched for a way out of the situation. "I never take off my helmet," he said firmly. The girl stared at him in surprise. "What, and you sleep in it..." she said mockingly. — I sleep, I eat, I even take a shower... — He explained. The girl looked at him as if he were crazy. He felt the same way, because he was perfectly aware of what he was saying, but he had no choice. "Okay, can I at least know your name... Or is that also some kind of military secret?" Flora continued. "No, it's not a secret... My name is Cross," the guy replied. "That's a rather unusual name," she said. "So why did you come? Although I think I know why. A reward for saving me," she guessed, and picked up a checkbook from the coffee table. Cross looked at her in bewilderment. The girl wrote the amount on a piece of paper and signed it, then tore off the receipt and, approaching the guy, she thrust it into his hand. "I hope that's enough," she said. But before Flora could move away, he grabbed her wrist and prevented her from doing so. "I'm used to measuring everything with money. How much would you value your company?" he said with a slight shadow of anger and threw the crumpled check on the floor. Flora looked at him, slightly confused. "So you're interested in money, then what?" she asked. "You. I want to know what kind of person you are. What do you like and what don't you like? Most importantly, why do you dislike me so much? When we were in traffic, you looked at me with such hatred, as if I were your worst enemy, and in that building, when I was releasing you, you were afraid to get on the motorcycle, as if it were a monster. There's nothing wrong with that. I want to know why," he said, voicing what had been bothering him all this time. Flora sighed heavily and looked away. She realized that a series of events had led to an unfair treatment of a complete stranger who had done nothing wrong, but for some reason was causing her concern. "I should probably apologize for my behavior and for inconveniencing you," she said quietly. — Maybe you can tell me why... — He insisted. Flora moved away from him. Cross noticed her slight pallor. "You don't like talking about it," he guessed. "Don't worry, I understand." The girl looked at him. On the one hand, she really didn't want to talk about it, because she didn't want to reveal the whole truth, but on the other hand, she wanted to finally talk about it and not keep it all inside, because it was easier to talk about such things with a stranger. There was no point in discussing it with anyone else. Cross could sense her anxiety and indecision, and he took her hand to comfort her. Flora's fingers were lost in his large, leather-gloved hand, and it really began to calm her down. "Flora, you can trust me," he insisted gently. He didn't know if it was concern for her or simple curiosity that drove him. But it was clear that something was bothering her, and it had something to do with him, even if it was indirectly. "You're probably going to laugh," she said hesitantly. "What makes you think that?" he asked in surprise. Flora looked at him in disbelief. "I'm afraid of motorcycles and motorcyclists," she finally replied with a deep sigh, hiding the true reason behind her fear. Cross almost laughed, but he restrained himself with an effort of will. "But... why?" he asked in surprise. The girl moved away from him and sat down on the couch. "I was really scared by a motorcyclist when I was a child. I've been afraid of them ever since," she replied, coming up with a plausible excuse. He sat down on the sofa next to her and gave her a long, steady look. "Good. It's decided, I'll help you," he said confidently. "What for?" the girl asked in surprise. "To overcome your fear," Cross replied. "What do you mean?" Flora was wary. "You'll see," he said, taking her hand again and leading her to the balcony. "What are you doing?" She was a little scared. "You'll see," Cross replied, easily lifting her into his arms. Flora looked at him in disbelief, and her heart sank when she saw him step onto the edge of the railing with her in his arms and jump down effortlessly. She let out a small scream and buried her face in his shoulder. Cross took advantage of this and, opening the visor's mirrored curtains, let out a short whistle. A couple of seconds later, his bike caught up with them, and he released his tail from under his jacket, grabbed the strap on the seat, and quickly got on the bike, placing the girl, who was still clinging to his jacket, in front of him. She felt a slight push and found her footing, and slowly opened her eyes. They were speeding down the hotel wall at a breakneck pace. Once they reached the ground, he sharply turned the handlebars, and they began to move away from the building. The night city was illuminated by bright lights. Flora was sitting almost on the gas tank, and she wasn't quite comfortable. He occasionally held her by the waist, pulling her close, fearing that she might slip off the seat due to her awkward position. He found himself enjoying the embrace. Once they left the city limits, he turned off the highway towards the river and stopped on the shore. As soon as the bike came to a halt, Flora jumped off, slipping out of his arms, and glared at him angrily. Although her appearance was quite comical. Flora was wearing a maroon-colored housecoat and matching velvet slippers. "Are you trying to kill me?" You know, there are more traditional ways: a knife in the rib, a bullet in the head. Why bring it to a heart attack? Or do you want me to suffer longer!" She attacked him. "I'm sorry. Were you scared?" Cross replied, a little embarrassed. "No, I'm beaming with delight!" Flora continued in the same tone. "You wouldn't have agreed to that," Cross tried to justify himself. "Of course not, I'm still in my right mind," the girl replied with annoyance. The guy approached her and touched her shoulder. "I really didn't mean anything bad. Please don't be angry," he said softly. Flora looked at him disapprovingly. Unfortunately, but fortunately for him, his emotions were hidden behind the visor of his helmet. An oppressive silence fell between them. "I'm really sorry. I promise it won't happen again. Let's do this: I'll come to your place every evening, and we'll just drive around the city or outside," he suggested. "And you think it'll get rid of my phobia?" she was surprised, calming down a little. "I'm sure it's worth a try, at least," Cross said. Flora looked at him and listened to her feelings. The strange guy was both frightening and trustworthy at the same time. "All right, have it your way." After a moment's thought, she agreed. "Maybe you could take me to a hotel?" He nodded in agreement, but for a moment he thought she was a little afraid of him. Cross got on his bike and waved her over. She had the same scared look and tension in her movements. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite," he chuckled kindly. The girl slowly approached him and sat on the bike behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She felt his hand gently touch her clasped hands. "Don't be afraid of anything. You're safe with me," he assured her, and she wanted to believe it. But when the car started moving, the girl involuntarily shuddered in fright and clung to the guy behind the wheel. Cross smiled warmly. He drove her to the front door of the hotel. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "Yes, see you tomorrow," she said without much enthusiasm, and walked towards the hotel doors. He watched her until she was out of sight. As she climbed to the right floor, the girl kept wondering: why did she suddenly trust this strange stranger, was it because he refused a reward? Were his thoughts as selfless as he tried to show? This will only become clear with time. Cross drove the bike along the highway, and everything inside was rejoicing. He hadn't expected it to happen that way. Who knows, maybe there's a real chance to make friends with Flora? After all, he hadn't interacted with any Earthlings other than Charlie, and he was eager to expand his social circle on this fascinating planet. Additionally, there was something else that was equally appealing, but he could only understand it by being close to her.