– Chapter 4 –
Unhappily, Evira attempted to wave down a taxi the way Ellen had with little luck. She paced the sidewalk, wondering about what she was going to do. Just as she was about to take another sip of her coffee, a guy flashed past and ran into her. They toppled over and fell unceremoniously onto the sidewalk. Evira’s coffee got all over her outfit, splashing onto her clothes.
“Crap,” he muttered. He helped her up. “I’m really sorry, I was in a hurry, and—“
“It’s fine,” she gasped. The coffee was still pretty hot.
He checked his watch. “Three minutes,” he said to himself. “Look, this is terrible of me, but…” He fished out ten bucks out of his wallet and handed them to her. “There’s a shop right over there,” he told her, pointing.
She pushed the money back into his hand. “I don’t need this. I can buy my own clothes. Thanks though.”
He pressed it back into her hand and disappeared into the studio. “I promise I’ll repay you back later!”
She rolled her eyes. “Right. Find me. That might be possible back in Springfield, but not in L.A.” She looked at the crumpled ten dollars in her hand. “I have ten dollars,” she mumbled to herself. “Right—“ She stopped, realizing that her messenger’s bag was gone. “Today stinks.” She knew that the door was locked, and she definitely couldn’t go into the studio looking like a wet mop.
Sighing, Evira decided to go looking for the clothes shop, dripping coffee all over the sidewalk.
There wasn’t really much of a choice, and still trying to avoid peoples’ eyes, Evira quickly grabbed a suitable shirt and paid for it. Pocketing the remaining money, she dove for the bathroom and quickly changed her shirt.
Examining herself in the mirror, she realized just how much of a boy she looked like. Not a good-looking boy, but still a boy. She took the glasses off and trashed them. They weren’t prescription, but they still had cost fifteen dollars. She took them out of the trashcan and cleaned them carefully. She tucked them into her shirt, looking more and more like a tourist. Her hat was too hot to wear in such weather so she took it off and held it awkwardly in her hands.
“Now, for my bag.”
“…the song,” a person was saying. Evira tiptoed into the studio, feeling self-conscious. She didn’t recognize whoever it was, but she assumed he must have been Travis.
“But we don’t have a lot of time!”
“We have until nine. That’s four hours.”
Lex was about to say something when he spotted Evira standing outside. “Hey! What are you doing here?”
She stepped sheepishly inside. “Sorry to intrude,” she said politely. “I left my bag in your car, Alec.”
“Who—“ Travis turned, and his eyes widened.
“You—“ they exclaimed in unison.
“Do you know each other?” Lex asked in surprise.
“He ran into me just outside,” she explained, eyeing Travis with suspicion. “So you’re the notorious Travis.”
“’Notorius’?” he repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”