The Ferris Peregrination

Chapter 2

It wasn't always that Ferris cursed her troublemaking tendencies, but today was a special occasion. The red bicycle parked in her space needed to be taught a lesson. 

After a lot of thought, Ferris concluded that the elaborate master plan would come to her as she got to work. She started moving the bike, or at least tried to. However, the bike took her down with its build at least five times before she put it to the side and gulped a breath in. Her mind played a cruel reminder when only yesterday, through the beam of evening sunlight passing through her bedroom, she marveled at how toned her biceps looked, and how she thought she was getting stronger. 

If only. 

Blowing a raspberry, Ferris looked at the crime scene she'd created. Her own bike was tucked away neatly near her parents' blue Kia, looking all innocent. Ferris herself, on the other hand, looked down at her red palms and the red bike that lay askew, such a contrast to the neat way it had been before it was touched by the evil.

Hmmm, guess it wasn't gory enough for a crime scene, really.

Deciding to try one last time, she let out a grunt and began to push the bike, in its locked state, to anywhere but her spot. Through the haze of primal satisfaction in her mind, she saw the tire rolling over the concrete tiles, and just as she successfully managed to pass over an entire one, she heard heavy footsteps coming down the stairs. 

Alarmed and with her heart pumping too fast for its own good, the sight was comical as Ferris looked around the spooky tube light-lit parking lot frantically. To the left, there was a big, sturdy pillar; can't break that one down, and to the right were neatly parked rows of cars. In front of her was the door to the stairs, and she saw her backpack lying so comfily. 

Just as she thought of fleeing to the back where the trees do their treeing, the door to the staircase swung open with a squeak. Her social anxiety wasn't the best of her friends as she saw flashes of life and death scenarios, staring at the reflective light of the bike. Pressing her lips together, she supposed there was no where to go and made the decision to own up to her actions, willing her galloping heart to calm down and the multiverse to be by her side.

Cutting her gaze to the newcomer's, she imagined it all to be a movie scene—dingy lighting, nerve-wracking silence, and slow motion as she lifted her gaze up and clashed with a pair of dark brown eyes that were already trained on her.

 Those pretty browns were framed by dark slants for eyebrows, fluffy-looking short hair laid messily on his head, and hints of stubble covered his strong jaw. Ferris' eyes flitted over to the Jack White graphic tee that stretched across his massive chest and the yellow sweatpants that oddly perfectly complemented the green t-shirt. 

A loud honk from someplace in the parking brought Ferris out of her musings, and sensing the too-long and awkward silence, she said the first thing on her mind.

"You know, people always glorify the bad guys for all the reasons they should be hated for," she said, pointing to the Joker's eyes on his tee that were staring right into her soul. The man simply moved his eager eyes from where her hand was flexing against the bike handle to her face. They didn't show any signs of understanding, and she mentally smacked herself on the forehead.

Eyes roaming his clenched fists to that soft looking hair again, she rambled on. 

"People that are die-hard fans of fictional characters or famous people are proven to have low self-esteem. That is why they want to escape their own life so bad and seek validation." 

As an involuntary reaction, she cringed from the words escaping her mouth, her hand slipping from the bicycle handle to smack on her mouth to keep them shut. Her brain had shut off from embarrassment though and didn't account for her non-dominant hand being insufficient to keep the bike from tipping her over from imbalance. 

Just as she braced herself for a bruised butt from the fall she knew was to come, she opened her browns with a sharp intake of breath as she felt a pair of warm hands closing in around her waist and pulling her into a body that smelled of chocolates.

Ferris' eyes stayed wide as she took in the bike that was now sprawled across from her, the rear wheel circling around, and a voice, deep and smooth, rasped, "I need you to be more careful than that, little maverick."