We won't be caught up

The setting is planet Earth, the city of Chicago ____________________________________________ The garage was filled with Vincent's hearty laughter after Cross revealed Flora's fear and regretted it. "Oh, I can't... Afraid of motorcycles... What a scary bike." Vincent laughed and patted his motorcycle's seat. "How can you be afraid of them? A bike is a cool, big thing between your legs with two wheels, a handlebar, an engine, a gas tank, and all the fun you can have." Vincent was passionately expressing his thoughts, gesturing wildly, and after his outburst, an awkward silence fell over the garage. "Vincent, don't you think some of your words sound a little ambiguous?" Trottle decided to break the silence. The speaker only chuckled. "We should probably find out the reason," Carbine said. "And I know how. There's probably information about it on the internet. Or something that can help us understand the reason," Charlie said, and they headed to the office. She sat down at the computer and started searching for information online. Soon, the others joined her. Vincent was still making sarcastic remarks about the situation, and Cross was glaring at him. Eventually, Carbine gave him a slap on the back of the head. Charlie soon found what she was looking for and began to read. As she read, her face grew darker and eventually a look of horror fixed itself on her face. "She's not without reason to be afraid of motorcyclists," the girl said quietly. All eyes turned to her in anticipation. "Ten years ago, on their way home from a charity children's performance, the Deloréns were attacked by a motorcyclist, resulting in the deaths of their driver, bodyguard, and Joseph and Gwyneth Deloréns. Flora narrowly escaped with her life. According to eyewitnesses, the attacker was a biker on a motorcycle. He opened fire on their car with an assault rifle and then fled the scene," Charlie read from the article. An eerie silence filled the room. An unpleasant chill ran down Cross's spine, making his fur stand on end. "So I reminded her of the man who killed her family," the guy said in horror. A vague doubt crept into his soul: should he show himself to her now, if he had caused her to have bad memories. "Then why didn't she say so?" Cross asked after a moment of contemplation. "Who are you to tell me your secrets? You're just some guy who fell from the moon," the girl chuckled. "From Mars... fell from Mars," Vincent corrected her, putting his arm around her shoulders. Back in the hideout, well past midnight, Cross couldn't sleep. He stood up from his hammock and walked over to the fallen scoreboard, which served as their makeshift window, and gazed out at the empty stadium. What he had learned was incredibly saddening. Would it hinder the warm relationship he had hoped to build with Flora? Preoccupied with his thoughts, he didn't notice Trottle approach from behind and place a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know what to say, buddy. Of course, what happened in the past was a tragedy, but it wasn't your fault," he said. Cross looked at him and sighed heavily. "If she understood that, but judging by her reaction, Flora is still caught up in her own emotions," Cross said sadly. "Then set her free. You can do it," Trottle assured him. Cross looked at him hopefully. Trottle smiled and patted him on the shoulder. Soon, he had to go to bed, as tomorrow was another day of work.

* * *

The early morning was bright and clear. Even the early wake-up call couldn't dampen her spirits. Flora couldn't get that strange guy out of her mind. "He doesn't take off his helmet... Maybe he's in trouble with the law, and he's afraid I'll recognize him as a criminal and turn him in to the police... Or maybe he's been in an accident and his face is so disfigured that he's afraid to show it to people," she tried to explain the strangeness of her new acquaintance. Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. After she allowed it, Walter entered. "Shall I bring you breakfast here? Or shall I take you down to the restaurant?" he inquired. — To the restaurant. Will you join me? "What is it?" she asked, smiling. Her playful tone indicated that she was in high spirits. "I'm not supposed to, Lady Flora," the man said. He carefully examined the room. It was a habit he had developed long ago. Nothing seemed suspicious, but something caught his attention. There were pieces of soil in the carpet near the sofa. He walked around the room, bent down, and examined the carpet. He was not mistaken. It was soil. His gaze turned to Flora's slippers, which were nearby. He picked them up and examined the soles. They were stained. "She went outside in her slippers," he thought as he stood up, realizing the absurdity of his assumptions, as the girl was quite particular about cleanliness. "Well, I'll need security at the restaurant," Miss Deloren explained as she left her room, ready to go. Walter was well aware that this was just a young lady's whim, but he had no choice, and after a while, he found himself sitting across from her in the hotel's ground-floor restaurant, sipping coffee. Flora was taking her time with her breakfast. They had a long day ahead of them, with visits to various construction sites, and Flora's first priority was to visit the orphanages and hospitals. The supplies they had brought with them would last for three to four months... Maybe even a little longer. The issue of textbooks was also resolved, and the children were overjoyed. As the day flew by, the girl returned to the hotel, exhausted. The time for her meeting with her strange acquaintance was approaching. "He'll be on the balcony again," she said, sitting on the couch. It was risky to go in through the front door. He wouldn't be allowed in with his motorcycle helmet on. She left the balcony open again, just in case, even though she thought for a moment that he wouldn't come. Why was her heart suddenly racing with excitement? What if Cross was just a figment of her imagination, an imaginary friend? But she couldn't have imagined all of this. He sped his bike toward the center of town, his nerves on edge. What if things didn't go as he hoped? What if her fears overpowered her interest in him? He remembered the look of horror in her eyes, quickly transformed into a searing hatred, and shuddered inwardly. The steady hum of the engine provided a modicum of comfort. He would make sure she never remembered that moment. "I need to show her that riding a bike is awesome, that it's like a thrilling flight, but on the ground," he thought, and this thought gave him confidence. He was stuck in traffic, as always, when he heard a tune nearby. There was a yellow Ford Crown Victoria with black stripes on the side doors and the word "Taxi" written on it, and the tune was coming from there. So, all that’s left to do Is to let weariness be through And on this evening Start a spirit mending Green eyed taxi not so fast Please slow it down, Stop, turn around And take me over to where Joy and happiness will last Will last There, they won’t inquire To where fate me expire And just like a miracle Will understand it all. Flora was getting nervous. "It's like before a date," she chuckled to herself, not remembering this happening before. She had been asked out on dates since she was fifteen, and she was considered beautiful, but in the end, her suitors wanted something from her, and that something was usually money or a position of power. It didn't matter if they were from a privileged class or not. The whole charade came to an end when she showed up for a date with a bodyguard who had been following her without being seen by her suitors. Seeing Walter's massive figure, the suitor was blown away. And then there was this strange guy who threw away a check for a pretty big amount without even looking at it. "What do you want?" she wondered. "I'll help you... overcome this fear," she remembered his words, which now sounded like an answer to her question. "Hi, how was your day?" she heard his voice from the balcony, which brought her back to reality. A fresh breeze stirred the light curtains, and she saw his silhouette, still wearing the same clothes from yesterday and the same motorcycle helmet. "It's intense," she smiled, calming down and deciding to let things take their course, knowing that sooner or later he would reveal his true intentions. "Are you ready to go?" he asked. Flora's stomach turned cold as she remembered the last time they left her room. Cross noticed her pale face. "Not again," he thought, thinking that she was afraid of him because of who he reminded her of. "Is there any other way to leave the room?" the girl asked uncertainly as she approached him. " well... I don't know..." He said, confused. To be honest, Cross did not see a more inconspicuous and safe way to leave the hotel, in his opinion, and apparently Flora did not share this view. There was a knock on the door, which made Flora jump. She pushed Cross onto the balcony and closed the curtains. He hid behind the door, ready to jump off the balcony at any moment. When she opened the door, she saw her bodyguard. "I came to wish you a good night, but it seems you're not going to sleep," said Walter, surprised that Flora was still not in her nightclothes. — I was just going to... And here you are... — The girl answered confusedly. The man's attentive gaze did not hide her excitement and desire to send him away as soon as possible. "That's how it is... Well, good night," said Walter, and after a moment's hesitation, he departed. Flora closed the door behind him, leaving the key in the lock in case Walter decided to return, and rushed out onto the balcony, immediately finding herself in Cross's arms. She jumped in surprise. "Who was it?" he asked warily. "My chief of security," Flora replied. "Now I think we have no choice," the biker said, looking down from the balcony. "You know... I suddenly remembered that I'm afraid of heights... I'm really afraid," she said in a trembling voice. "Then just close your eyes and trust me," he said. Instead, she looked at him in disbelief. "Trusting someone who won't even show his face," she thought, but she followed his advice. He picked her up, and for the first time, she heard a short, loud whistle. Soon, she felt them speeding down the hotel's steep wall. When they reached the ground, he stopped and allowed her to climb on behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist again, and he turned the throttle. The bike took off, carrying them away from the hotel. They didn't see how, after they disappeared into the city, Grease Pit rode his tricycle out of the alley between the buildings opposite the hotel and watched them carefully. Soon, Flora and Cross were leaving the city. Flora watched the landscape change rapidly, and the wind whipped her hair, which was tied in a high ponytail, across her face. It gave her a strange sense of euphoria. She had never felt so free as she did on the bike, riding behind this strange boy. They drove back to the river and stopped on the bank. When she was on the ground, her legs were a little numb and shaky. She would have fallen if Cross hadn't noticed and held her up by the waist. "It's just a matter of getting used to it," he explained. Out of habit? She remembered their previous trip, and there had been no such reaction, or perhaps she had been too preoccupied with her own emotions to notice. "It's going to take me a while to get used to this," she replied. They sat down on a log lying on the shore, and silence fell between them. Flora looked up at the clear sky, dotted with beads of stars. Cross was watching her. Fortunately, the helmet hid it, and he did not feel awkward about it. But soon she felt his gaze on her and looked at him. "Tell me about yourself. You have an interesting accent. Are you not an American?" she decided to break the silence. "No," Cross replied. "An immigrant or a tourist?" was the next question. "Neither. I'm here on business," the guy replied. "A business trip, then. And what do you do for a living?" she continued. "An auto mechanic," Cross replied. Flora looked at him with interest. "A car mechanic who refused to accept a check... That's something new," she mused. "So where are you from?" Flora asked again. Cross hesitated for a moment. He didn't want to tell her the truth, because at best she would think he was lying, and at worst she would think he was crazy. But he had to find a way out, and he wasn't very good at lying. He stood up and looked at the night sky, turning around as if he was searching for something. "Look over there," he said, pointing to the stars. "Do you see that very bright star?" "It's Aldebaran in the constellation Taurus," the girl replied. "So, just to the left of this ram," he continued to explain. "Aldebaran," Flora corrected. "Well, yes... To the left of it you can see a red-orange star. Here... I'm from there," Cross said confidently. The girl gave him a wary look, apparently thinking that he was trying to get rid of her. Cross didn't say anything to explain himself. "Well, that was the best pickup line I've ever heard," she sighed dreamily, wishing she could get back at him a little. "Yes, I... I don't... well, in general... I just," he was confused. Flora was pleased with the effect she had made and smiled sweetly at him. The helmet hid his face, which was flushed with embarrassment, which even the thick light gray fur could not hide. The heat spread throughout his body, and he thanked his ingenuity a hundred times, and the girl did not see it. He himself could not figure it out. Why was he so drawn to her, and it did not seem like a trivial interest in a new representative of an alien race. The wind blew, and Flora shivered a little, because it was cold at night, and she hadn't brought a jacket with her, in case Walter decided to come back. "Are you cold? I'll be right back," he said, heading towards his bike. What would a normal guy do? He would take off his jacket, which was warm from his body heat, and put it on her shoulders. What did Cross do? He went to his bike, opened the side trunk, and took out another jacket. He approached Flora and put the jacket on her shoulders. Surprisingly, the jacket was warm, probably because of the bike's running engine. "What foresight," the girl marveled, but the oddities were incredibly intriguing. They drove around the countryside for a while longer, then Cross took her back to the hotel. As she had done the first time, Flora wished him a good night, returned his jacket, and entered the building through the front entrance, accompanied by the puzzled gaze of the concierge. "So this flighty girl is friends with the biker mice. Well, it's worth keeping an eye on Miss Deloren. I'm sure this connection will benefit me," Limburger said, standing by the window of his office in the company building after receiving Grease Pit's report.