I swore as I swivelled in my heels and walked away, with the pain from walking too much in them flowing up my legs. I jerked back as my foot stamped a glass piece, causing me to almost lose my footing. I stepped back from the danger zone, hiding behind a rack.
"What do you think you are backing off for, coward?" she sneered. "You thought you can run and hide?"
"I'm only keeping a safe distance from the glass," I said. "Don't you think you are acting up too much even for a senior? But of course, with your phoney friends influencing your mind and attitude, you wouldn't care for your dear father or even your health."
"SHUT UP!" she roared. "You don't understand or know anything!"
"I know enough to realise that you should be thinking about the people who truly love you, not those who seek after you for attention. The fake people don't define you or your life. You define yourself."
She thrashed out another two bottles at me, making me duck for shelter. The heels made me tall enough to be able to look over the racks. I either needed to find a resort or an exit to save myself from being tortured by a sophomore with anger issues.
When she rounded the aisle in which I was in, I lashed out at her. I solidly held her by the throat and pushed her to the nearest pillar away from the pieces of shard glass. She tried to reach my neck but by then I had already turned her around, caught her hands and pushed her head against the wall.
"Please," the man begged. "Please don't hurt her. She didn't mean any of those things she said."
'The man deserves mercy but this rude lady doesn't,' my psyche said.
'Be sympathetic,' my heart said. 'You never know what she's going through.'
Trying to come to a conclusion, I decided to give it a shot by asking her a question.
"Do you think you did all those because you couldn't control yourself?" I asked her in a low, intimidating tone.
"Yes," she answered, but I already knew she was hiding the complete truth.
I threw her to the floor and locked her on the floor with my knee as I held her wriggling wrists.
"I will ask you one last time," I snarled. "Did you actually mean all those things you had said?"
"I didn't mean to lash out but I didn't believe what you are saying," she said in a tight voice as a tear trickled down the bridge of her nose. "Please let me go. I promise I'll be good. And I promise I will leave you and your friends alone. Just please don't let anyone know about my real identity. I will do anything you ask."
"I don't need or want anything from you or to do something for you. I want you to search for yourself and see if whatever you do is actually your doing or is it because someone has influenced you. I understand where you come from because I come from a poorer background. And I am not afraid or ashamed of who I am, because I know what I love and dislike."
"I'm sorry for being so immature. You should be the true senior instead of me."
"Maturity doesn't necessarily come with age. It comes with learning to accept the way people are and the life that one has been blessed. We must come to terms with ourselves and our fates and run away from it."
I let her go as she started sobbing. When it looked like she needed a shoulder, I gave her a small squeeze. Then Mel came up from behind us and hugged the woman tightly, despite her injuries.
"We are here for you whenever you need us," she whispered causing the woman to cry harder than a baby.
We let her reunite her bonding with her father as we marched off towards the marathon site. As the renting for cycles was cheap, we took two bicycles to roam around the marathon track and a bit of the city for about two hours.
The track had been pretty much shaded by the tall buildings surrounding it, ensuring that no direct sunlight would drain the athletes' energy. As we went around, we got closer to the heart of the capital, where a majority of the expensive hotels were situated. The dark clouds had gathered, hiding the sun rays and giving the impression of rainfall.
As we got deeper to see the end of the race tracks, the sky got darker like the night was descending upon the land. We saw people putting up the covers over the half-marathon tracks and bordering them well enough to not have a drop of water wet the surface, and thus make the sprinters susceptible to slips and injuries.
The instant we felt something wet and hard touch our heads, we immediately took shelter under the porch of a grand hotel. We knew that we would be stranded for another hour at least as the sleet fell in heavy torrents. Which meant that we would have to pay for the extra hour that we would take to return the bikes.
"Oh damn," I said in despair. "There goes our money paying behind the bikes."
"And there goes our lovely evening food," said Mel with a sniffle. "Aidan promised us to get the free ones for us although they are meant for the athletes."
"You and food. How obsessive you are with it! Can you for once think about how to get back instead of groaning for free food, you rich kid?"
"Hey, you know how nice free food is. And if you didn't know yet, we can't get back. There are hardly ten minutes remaining before the marathon starts. There's no way we are missing the marathon by giving the bikes back. It'll take us a long time to reach anywhere and by then, the marathon would be over. We can't take back rusted cycles either. We'll have to pay up for the repairs."
The last thing we wanted was to spend money on something that wasn't ours forever. We sat down on the porch as we waited for the athletes to appear, and hoped that the half-marathon would take place. We wished that we would be able to get them back before the fourth hour of payment set in.