The Summer I Rebel

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Edited by DarkElementsXo. 

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Chapter four

“Okay, what am I meant to say?” I ask Alima again.

I had already filled in both Alima and Carlos about Mr Galen’s treacherous act which lead to a, yet to become, shattered marriage and continuous affairs with one particular Blondie with brown roots.

I would always see them at a particular diner, located far away from town, named Hidin’. Ironic much? Usually, I’d take a walk, never caring where I was, to clear my mind. I never actually stepped foot into that diner, but I’m familiar with the regulars.

A young man, aged about his mid-twenties always strolls in past eight, a woman with a limp drags in some nicotine before entering, and there is also always Mr Galen and Blondie-with-brown-roots.

“Well, make sure Mr Galen is not present because that will just end up unpleasant.” Concentration courses through Alima’s face and I end up feeling queasy. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.

“Just get to the point,” she clinches, but I still detect uncertainty in her voice.

“Both you and I know that this will end up nasty one way or the other. Either Mrs Galen will hate me for making assumptions or Mr Galen would kill me if I was to snitch on him.”

“Why do you always think that people will kill you?” Carlos asks, speaking up for the first time since he had got to my house. I glance at him, replaying our earlier conversation.

“Just ignore Alima and I’ll see if she notices it,” I told him.

“Ignore her, as in blank her or just not talk to her?” he questions, his face brightening up because of my sensible idea. I don’t understand why Alima never came to like this guy. Even though he hardly ticked any of her boxes, she can at least give him a chance. What do they say about opposites attract? Another major problem with Alima, nothing gets through that thick head of hers.

“A nice mixture of both; but don’t make it too obvious,” I add, smiling.

He seems pretty content on keeping quiet, but, so far, Alima hasn’t mentioned anything about his abrupt silence.

“Should I improvise?” I know it’s such a bad thing to do, since the last time I improvised I ended up with a huge scratch running down my cheek.

“No, no, absolutely not. Do not improvise.” Alima shakes her head, grabbing hold of both my arms. “It will seem like you’re making everything up.” She lets go off me and starts to pace around my room.

“She’s going to ask for proof…” I input, dropping onto my bed backwards. This is going nowhere…

“Yes, she will.” Alima agrees.

“She does trust me.”

“Take that as an advantage, as a starting point.”

Ideas prick my mind and I push myself into a sitting position.  I gather my thoughts together until I’m satisfied with what I’ve got.

“I’ve got something, just leave it to me,” a mischievous smile overpowers my face.

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“I’ve never seen this diner before and I’ve lived here all my life,” Carlos whispers.

“That’s why it’s called Hidin’,” I point out, my voice the same level as Carlos’s. We are at the diner Hidin’, hiding. Crouched down behind a beat up Mustang, Carlos is at my left side with Alima on my right. We have the perfect view, the perfect spot to take the relevant pictures needed.

“Okay, they should be here round about…” I glance down at my watch. “Now,” just then Mr Galen’s blue Ford pulls up and he steps out. We watch with prying eyes, him walking towards the passenger side and opening the door for the lady. Such a gentlemen… it’s a shame.

As predicted, Blondie-with-brown-roots steps out, heels first and all, smiling up at Mr Galen. His hands go around her slender waist and he pulls her closer to him. From where we are, we can’t hear much but I do catch the odd words.

“Beautiful… Mine… Fun…” Those all come out from Mr Galen’s mouth.

“My house… All night…” And those come out from Blondie-with-brown-roots. Mr Galen smiles down at the woman, like she is his most prized possession and he slowly leans down to her face.