Virga City

Season Two; page 2

“Clem!” came the semi exasperated drawl of Clementine’s eldest brother, as he advanced down the strip with the quick moving steps Clem had become accustomed to when fencing against her brother, “Your steps are too small. Your taking too long between attacks and your parries are weak.” 

“I wouldn’t … be giving advice … since you’re the one … losing!” she told her older brother between each attempted attack, at the last word landing on Ryan’s midsection. She had only succeeded in that endeavor because his counterattack had been so weak that with a simple extension of her left arm she enough to enable her to score a point.

“Luck,” Ryan spat, looking disappointed that his counterattack hadn’t been enough to stop Clem’s foil from colliding with him. He was out of breath, an hour of nonstop combat with his little sister tended to have that affect on him. He squatted for a moment, foil placed delicately on the ground, and hands residing behind his ears in an attempt to regain his breath. “So what’s the score now?” he asked, looking like he didn’t particularly want to know the answer.

“Twenty to eight,” Clem explained to her brother, “In my favor.”

Clem crouched down next to her older brother, she looked at his eyes through the mesh of his helmet and said to him, “You know, we were supposed to stop five touches ago. Your just prolonging the inevitable,” she smiled, “I’m going to win Ryan, you’d need to get twelve touches without letting me get another just to tie. You‘re going to lose,” she grinned slightly at him and then after hoisting herself out of kneeling position extending her hand to give him assistance with standing up again.

“Not so fast, young grasshopper,” her brother replied in his most serious tone, heaving himself off the ground without his younger sister’s help, “You still have a lot to learn,” he informed her, “I’ve just been letting you win for the past hour, so you haven’t really beat me at all.” he smirked.

At that statement Clem couldn’t help but scoff, her brother always claimed to be letting her win whenever she was beating him at something. He couldn’t stand to lose, not that Clem was any better, in fact she was probably worse, but she wouldn’t insist that she was letting someone win just to regain some dignity from losing to their sibling who had been practicing the sport for a far less time than them. “Sure you are,” Clem giggled, pulling off her helmet and holding it unceremoniously with her useless right hand, still grasping the foil in the other, “Now listen to me Ryan,” she said, brandishing her foil in his face, “I’m not letting you humiliate yourself any longer. I’m done for today.”

Clem moved off the strip, leaving Ryan standing there with a dumbstruck look on his face. She began packing up her foil, helmet, and glove, and then continued on to remove her jacket before Ryan spoke. “You’re no fun Clem,” he informed her.

“I’m no fun?” she inquired, smirking at the speechless look that seemed to be permanently plastered onto her older brother’s face. “Whatever you say Ryan.”

Clementine scooped up the jacket she had just peeled off her sweat soaked body and placed it in her duffle bag, her hands moved towards the zipper and closed the bag quickly. By the time she was completely packed up Ryan had only just started to remove his equipment from his body. 

“So, what’re you gonna do after this?” Ryan asked his younger sister, as he pulled his glove off his right hand.

“I dunno,” Clem shrugged, pulling the bag up onto her shoulder, “Go for a run on the treadmill, swim, something where I‘m … moving,” she gave him a small smile, “Have fun … doing whatever your going to do, I’ll see you at home,” and she exited the room without another word.

She sighed as her legs propelled her out of the gym, the strain of participating in so much activity was starting to take it’s toll. Her days and days of non-stop actions were making her muscles ache, but still she felt the urge to do just one more thing before she let herself take a few minutes to rest. Being active seemed like the only thing to do lately, like she couldn’t make herself sit down and read a book without wanting to go out and run, she couldn’t hang out with all her brother’s without wishing they were competing against each other in a friendly game of basketball, or … not so friendly, depending on who was there. Sure, she had hung out with Adrian a few times since the party, most of the time swimming laps because Adrian was training for swim season, even though that was months away. Adrian’s wish to swim was perfectly suited for her current mindset, so she always brushed aside Adrian’s apologies that they couldn’t do anything else, how she just needed to keep in shape.

She had just recently hung out with Adrian at her own house, granted … they had gone swimming in the medium size swimming pool that resided in the far corner of Clementine’s backyard, but they had spent more time talking and just hanging out than at other times. Adrian was still nervous every time Chad graced them with his presence, but she was calming down, which made the whole experience more enjoyable. 

However, even though days spent with Adrian were fun, she still always felt that constant urge that she needed to be out there doing something. She wanted to be doing something now, instead of walking slowly away from the gym she wanted to be back in there, pushing her body to its limits again and again, because that it seemed, was the only thing enjoyable to Clementine right now. But for the moment, she needed rest, so she sat down, and waited for the soreness to subside.

Season Two; page 4

Fifteen minutes of uninterrupted silence was what Clementine experienced while awaiting the slight pain in her left thigh to retreat. She had yet to see Ryan depart from the gym, and she hoped that if she was here when he finally did emerge from the building that he would do her the courtesy of leaving her be. But Clem knew her older brother, and the likelihood of him actually acting upon her wishes were next to nothing. The second he caught sight of her sitting on the curb he’d make a beeline towards her and start shooting five thousand questions her way without allotting her any time to answer. He’d figure out some way of roping her into something she didn’t want to do and her moment of relaxation would be brought to an abrupt end.

Clem was right to assume that that would be the outcome of any interaction with her brother, for that was what usually happened in this type of circumstance. She decided it wasn’t worth it to sit here and await the inescapable confrontation that would occur if she stayed in the spot where she was currently located. With a swift movement she stood up, cringing as the muscles in her leg screamed in protest, but she ignored their pleads and walked towards her bike which she had locked up just outside the gym. She knelt down and began figuring with the lock and put in the correct combination. Clem figured she could just get on her bike and ride just a little bit outside of the area, someplace where she could rest and Ryan wouldn’t come and disturb the peace. 

However, before she could even finish unlocking her bicycle she felt and arm rest upon the top of her head like she was some kind of armrest. Then a triumphant, and very familiar, voice came from behind her, “What’s up Squirt?” 

Ryan. The very person she had been attempting to escape had caught her in the act of fleeing. Clem whipped around, causing Ryan’s limp arm to fly off the top of her head and hang limply at his side, she shot him a angry look but he simply just smiled. Clem turned away from her older brother, refusing to answer his question. The nickname “Squirt” was getting quite old, after all, she wasn’t a Squirt compared to him anymore, she had never been. He was only taller than her by an inch. Clem wouldn’t be referred to as that old childhood nickname.

“I thought you were going to be doing something,” Ryan mused, “Go for a run on the treadmill, swim, something where you’re moving? Weren’t those your words just a few minutes ago? What happened to that plan, Squirt?” he questioned, a curious look flitting across his feature, almost a devious one.

Clem stood back up again. She was hesitant to answer, almost every witty remark that popped into her mind could, and would, be used against her by Ryan, so she stuck with the truth, “My leg hurts.”

Ryan raised one eyebrow, a feat Clem had never managed to master and was usually quite envious of, and gave her a questioning look. “Wow, that’s a surprise,” he laughed, unable to hold in his exceptionally rude sniggers, “The supposedly invincible Squirt defeated by a little pain in her leg. Awww … poor little Squirt,” he said in the voice people usually adopted when in the presence of a small child, his face squished into a look that resembled a fish face, “Does Squirt’s leg need a kiss from Older Brother?”

“Shut up Ryan,” Clem snapped, “Quit treating me like I’m some five-year-old you can just mess around with without any consequence. I’m not a little kid any more. And quit calling me Squirt, I’m almost as tall as you.”

“Not quite yet, and until then I’m going to keep calling you Squirt,” Ryan told her defiantly, when Clem shot him a nasty look and then returned to unlocking her bicycle, “Cleeemmmm …” he said her name in his normal drawl, “Quit being a spoilsport. If your leg hurts lemme give you a ride home, it’s like four miles away and your leg will just hurt more if -”

But Clem cut him off before he could finish his sentence, she let out a loud yell of, “No!” a look of anguish on her face, “I’m not riding in that stupid car!”

Ryan rolled his eyes in the direction of his younger sister and said, “You know, just because Mom grounded you from driving doesn’t mean your not allowed to go into a car. I don’t think getting into the passenger seat while I am driving is going to get you in trouble with Mom.”

“I’m not afraid of getting in trouble with Mom,” Clem insisted, “I just don’t want to get into a car, that’s all.” The truth was Clem was scared to get back in the car. Her last experience with driving had just been a testimony to how Clem really wasn’t meant to be in cars, driving or not. In her opinion she’d rather skip riding in cars all together than get in one and risk getting in an accident.

“You’re coming,” Ryan insisted. And with that simple statement he grabbed her bike and wheeled it towards the white suburban he had driven over, that huge gas guzzler that always stayed parked in front of their house and Clem had only seen leave that stretch of pavement once or twice. Why had Ryan decided to drive that car today? It was a death trap. She followed her brother, muttering things about how she wasn’t coming, to which he just yelled back, “Yes you are!”

He shoved her bike in the back of the gas guzzling death trap and then latched onto Clem’s shoulder, opened the passenger side door and pushing her in. Clem didn’t fight once she was in the car, there was no point, even if she got out of the car Ryan would just grab her and put her back in. Just like Clem had predicted Ryan had managed to rope her into something she had insisted she didn’t want to do. Ryan hopped into the driver’s seat and started the ignition, then he turned to Clem and said to her, laughing throughout the entire statement making it very hard to understand, “Don’t try to jump out.”

When they reached home Clem jumped out and ran into the house, determined to escape the hum of that engine. Clem made her way upstairs, but before she even reached the second floor she heard the sharp yell of her mother. “Clementine!” it called, “Go get some milk from the market, we’re out!” Clem sighed, changing her direction from going upstairs to going down and went to fulfill her mother’s request. She almost ran into her mother on the way out the door. Her mother latched onto her shoulder and said, “Wear your hair down, it’s getting old, this ponytail thing,” and she grasped the ponytail holder that was keeping her hair out of her face and pulled it out, causing Clem’s hair to cascade down around her. “Much better,” her mother cooed, and then sent her on her way.

Ryan had unloaded her bike, it was sitting in the middle of the driveway almost as if it was waiting for her. She walked up to it, swung her leg over the top, straddling it, and then peddled off.

Season Two; page 6

The normal dark cloudy skies of Virga City were their normal summer tint of light blue. The few puffs of clouds that were visible didn’t do anything to diminish the midafternoon sun’s prime blazing time. Instead of a blanket of cold and rain that usually consumed the small town in which Clementine resided, it’s citizens were bathed in sunlight. The sun’s rays beat down on Clementine as her peddling feet pushed her forward. But the heat did not make Clem uncomfortable, did not make her trek to the nearby market unbearable, no, instead she felt a warmth consume her, leaving her feeling like the one this that shed a light of hope in her normally rain-drenched residence had finally come. 

Summer.

Her simple, sturdy mountain bike was serving her well as always. Her main source of transportation, it never failed to take her where she wanted to go. Except when it got a flat tire, and that had only happened once recently out of carelessness. Now that that tire had been replaced her bike returned to it’s normal capacity, car and public transportation all in one. Not only was it free, but it also didn’t drag along with it the craziness that came with allowing yourself to take the wheel of a motor vehicle and taking that suicide mission of driving down the street. No, bikes made everything much easier.

The slow speed at which she cruised down the road at was just right for her sore leg. She felt no pain as her legs made the peddles rotate clockwise, causing the gears to turn and her bike to be propelled forward. This simple form of exercise satisfied both needs, the need to rest, and the need to be active. It was perfect. 

The scenery whipped past her once she had gotten out of the deep inners of her neighborhood, the picturesque beaches, the tiny shopping malls, and the quaint little shops right on the waterfront were just some of the sights she saw. It was all so calming, just riding down the street, soaking in the sights, all of which pointed to the fact that summer was upon them. No matter how many summers Clem experienced here she never got tired of watching the people’s excited faces as they ran around on the beach, soaked up the sun’s warm rays and worked on their tans, or walked around eating ice cream which had been bought from one of the many vendors that dotted the beaches. They all seemed like they were in no hurry to get anywhere, and for once, Clem actually felt like she wasn’t in a hurry.

However, it didn’t take her long to reach her destination, even though she was riding slower than usual. Within ten minutes of leaving her development she found herself stationed in front of the market. She got off her bike and quickly locked it to the contraptions in which customers returned their carts. There was no doubt in her mind that the employees would not be pleased by her choice in where to place her bike, but she didn’t really stop long enough to care.

The market was cool, it felt like the air conditioning had been on full blast since Christmas. Clem had to suppress a shiver when the cold air hit her face. She made a beeline for the dairy products, the refrigeration around her making her feel colder than ever. Quickly she grabbed a gallon of milk, hoping that her mother hadn’t expected her to come home with three or four gallons, because that would only succeed in tipping Clem’s bike over. At the register she paid with a five dollar bill that looked like it had been splashed with grape juice and was handed her change before she was able to leave the icy hideaway.

The trip back was almost as easy as the way there, except for the fact that the gallon of milk, which lay inside a bag hung on the handlebars, caused her to feel as if her bike was off balance. She almost wished she had bought two gallons, just so her bike wouldn’t be quite so unbalanced. Clem had to spend most of her time making her sure her bike didn’t drift too far to the right, but once she got the hang of riding while leaning to the left slightly the whole journey became much more enjoyable. She rode down the street comfortably, her eyes staring out ahead of her except to occasionally check and make sure she hadn’t drifted too much. Her mind was so caught up in the fact that she had to keep riding straight that she was barely paying attention to anything, that was until something caught her eye.

It was a someone actually. A person biking in the opposite direction of Clem, meaning of course, that they were coming right at her. But it was not the fact that this bike was heading in the opposite direction and that it was going to pass her that she stared. No it was the rider themselves who caught her eye. He sat atop his seat with a look of utter relaxation upon his face, she could see that even though their bikes were so far apart, in a way it was that look that made her look farther. A hat sat atop his head, black hair sticking out from under it. But it was his face that kept her attention. Simple, strong features made his face noticeable, handsome, even from that distance they were visible. With every peddle that brought her closer to him she was able to see his face more and more clearly, a strong masculine jaw line was revealed along with slightly plump lips, and a thin nose. His eyes, though barely visible beneath the shadows created by the brim of his hat, sparkled beneath their shade. She could see the glow that the midday sun created on his dark brown skin. Clem barely noticed that her legs had stopped their peddling, she was now cruising at a comfortable pace, no attention paid to the gallon of milk swinging on the handle bar, hitting her leg every few feet. She didn’t pay any attention to any of it. There was just the rider in front of her, and the fact that with each passing second their bikes were getting closer and closer.

Season Two; page 8

His eyes were focused on her as their bikes drifted them closer and closer. His eyes became more visible the nearer they got to one another, though their color was still quite unrecognizable, however that sparkle still remained. His features became more distinct, the angles on his chin, jawbone, and cheekbones becoming more pronounced, but in a way that was utterly satisfying to the eyes. But then she saw something that made her throat go dry, there were little strands of pink and blue hair sticking out from beneath the hat.

Her stomach churned in anger, it wasn’t anger at the rider himself, though she felt that she had great reason to be angry at him. No, she was angry at none other than herself. The rider, his face was so clear and familiar to Clem now that she took the time to look. How many times had she looked upon it with a distinct sense of hatred towards the individual currently speeding his way towards her?

She stared blankly at him as he sped past, she knew who he was, but she didn’t really wish to believe that it really was him. Part of her wanted those pink and blue strands to disappear, those distinct freckles that were now visible on his face to just evaporate, and his eyes to be any other color than the ones they were, the other part was glad she had figured it out before she had done anything stupid. Still, she wished he was someone else.

She could see his face in her mind, hat off, he would be completely recognizable. Then the anger towards herself shifted to the rider, why had he chosen to wear a hat on this day of all days? It was almost as if he wished to fool her, to hoodwink her into believing he was someone he wasn’t. 

But her angry thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt crash, a hard fall onto concrete, her face buried in the ground so she was literally eating the sidewalk, and finally a liquid leaking onto her clothing. There was a sharp pain in her left leg, it was far worse than the pain her aching muscles had caused, she cautiously looked over at her bare calve and cringed, cuts ran down skin, on both legs. Her arms had not escaped unscathed either. Those cuts which had finally healed from her parasailing escapade, had been reopened, and new ones were sprouting. She looked out for the cause of her accident and found the culprit, the trash can.

She looked down at herself, she was drenched in milk, the carton had burst upon collision and spread all across her body. Although the situation was uncomfortable her buzzing mind wouldn’t let her dwell on it too long. There was still one important fact she had yet to fully deal with, the fact that the rider she had been admiring was none other than Niko. She hated him, yet she had been unable to tear her eyes away from him.

What was her problem?

She took a deep breath, which came out in an awkward gasp. She was only now aware of the noises that surrounded her, surprised gasps were quite evident. Everyone seemed to be focused on the fact that a teenage girl had just ran into a trash can and sent milk flying everywhere. 

She wanted to force herself to get up, make herself stand up, grab the bike, and get the hell out of there. But her body wouldn’t let her, the bike was laying painfully on her right leg and sitting up seemed impossible. But she forced herself into a sitting position ignoring any pain, because her thoughts before this unfortunate accident caused her a lot more pain than all these silly cuts and bruises.