Chapter 17
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"Do you need help?" She smiles widely, her eyes are pleasantly glowing with the blue light of the southern sky.
"No, thank you, we are not damsels in distress," Alana says ‘thank you’ as if she cursed the woman’s relatives and future offsprings and their offsprings too. She squeezes my shoulder tighter.
"Sorry, I thought you need help. I could help, if you need, of course." Woman gets of her blond bangs off the forehead, looking amiably at me. Even though I was working accurately, my hands and T-shirt are a little dusty.
"No, we don’t need anything from you," Alana purses her lips capriciously, looking at the black helmet that the motorcyclist is holding under her arm. "Honey, we need to go!"
"Actually, we do need some help," I say modestly.
Alana is looking at me like I’m Judas, while the new girl is smiling brightly at us. No wonder Alana mistook her for a man; she's a classic tomboy: a slender, flexible body, short hair, black trousers, and a red lumberjack shirt. She is taller than me and Alana; the young woman seems to be towering over us, though her facial features and delicateneck are pretty feminine and soft.
"As you wish!" snorts my companion. "If you really want to chat with strangers, I won't bother you!" She slams the car door loudly. Through the glass I can see that she puts her hands on the wheel as if she is ready to press the gas pedal and leave me for good. I really hope that my offended girl will not do this.
The motorcyclist girl embarrassedly rubs her neck, "Sorry, I didn't mean to cause your quarrel..."
"We didn’t quarrel at all. She's just going through a phase, I think. She doesn’t really like strangers," I say honestly, recalling her reaction to the people since the moment we met: she was either indifferent to them or immediately protracted her claws… or rather her fists.
"My name is Andrijana. Now, I hope, I have become a little less suspicious in the eyes of your friend!" She looks at me, though the young woman clearly addresses her words to Alana as the car window is partially open, but it immediately closes, and I can hear my companion choosing a radio station.
"Esti, the one that is moody in the car is Alana!"
"What an unusual and beautiful name!" her voice goes a little lower, like that of brutal anime girls. I’m sure she’s talking about my name.
"Are you local? Am I right?" I'm trying to shift the topic. I’m beginning to think that Alana is right in everything, and I’m doing something wrong standing next to Andrijana.
"Yes, yes, you are absolutely right!" The girl clears her throat, taking her motorcycle helmet in two hands in front of her tummy.
"I and my... friend. We are traveling and would like to stay longer in Montenegro before returning to Croatia. Can you suggest a good place to stay for a few days? Wine, good food, beautiful views, and surely fewer people around. Of course, there are obviously dozens of chain hotels on the coast, but I wanted to surprise Alana (Well, it’s not a surprise anymore!) and stay somewhere quieter and more romantic. Maybe in the mountains, I don’t even know… a bit away from the coast?" I awkwardly try to wipe my dusty hands on my shorts.
For a few seconds she looks at me blankly, as if she didn't want to hear what I’ve just said, and then the motorcyclist smiles again, but her eyes look very sad, "I thought your car broke down..."
"I fixed everything. No problem. No big deal, actually." I feel a kind of tension and awkwardness as if I was the only one who ruined Alana’s and Andrijana’s mood at the same time.
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