Glass Sneakers

4th ♕

4th ♕

No way.

This shouldn't be happening. What was he doing here? It was so early in the morning. Seven fifty was not the time I expected my life to get screwed up.

"I'll be back," I said to Pete, handing him the bottle of dog shampoo. Wiping the remaining soap foams on my arms with a towel, I headed to the front desk.

"Where are you going?" Pete asked, confused. "You can't leave me here alone."

"You wash up Dog," I said to him.

"He is your dog. Shouldn't you be the one to—"

"Fine. But just give me a minute," I replied.

"Who did you see?" Pete kept on asking.

I hurriedly shut the back door behind me, unwilling to disclose the visitor's identity to Pete. But it was a mistake, because he looked at my direction. I almost hid behind the huge cabinet of animal toys, but then I thought that he wouldn't really see me.

This was bad. Why was he here? He couldn't be possibly telling old man that I would try for the princess wannabes audition, after all the denial I did ever since the news had reached us.

Not, right?

It wasn't like this dude knew where I worked. Actually, he might have had already forgotten me by now. Plus, it wasn't like I did anything for him to seek me out for such kind of payback. The plastic bottle didn't hit him. It didn't hit anyone. It was by far the stupidest act I did for the last two or three weeks, and it was out of the question.

But whatever he had in mind, I needed to hear it myself. Just in case he would do anything as dim-witted as sharing to Abram that I went to the Royal Assembly Hall to get an application form, I'd be the very first one to pin him to the ground.

"My sitter's on a secret love getaway. They're arranging a new one, probably tomorrow. In the meantime, there's no one willing enough to take care of him for the day. I'll come back for him later this afternoon," he told Abram. There was a subdued smile on his lips, for some reason. I was the only person here aside from the two of them. Since he couldn't possibly see me standing nearby, did I smell funny? Enough to make him that amused?

He couldn't possibly know that it was me, anyway. The fact that he didn't even glance at my direction was a solid proof. I wasn't a head turner for obvious reasons, but I was wearing the same shirt I'd worn on the day we met.

His Golden Retriever, Hero, barked at me. At least this little fellow knew who I was.

"Down, boy," blind dude said to Hero, as he was reaching for the form that old man handed him.

"I'll take care of that," I said, stepping up to take the papers for him.

"George?" Abram asked, perplexed.

"Hey," I muttered. "He's... I mean, he's..."

"He's what, George? And aren't you supposed to be with Peter?" Abram asked me.

I moved to the other side, where the pen was located. "He got this situation. I'll just write things for him."

"George?" blind dude repeated, looking at me.

"Did you recognize my voice? I was the one a few weeks ago. In the streets. The one who said burn? The bottle? The shop?" The one whose glass window I almost hit with an empty plastic bottle. Not that it would break, but it might have done a little damage. One I wouldn't be able to pay for.