Caught in the Crossfire

Oakley felt the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of her lips while she shook the small canister in her hand as hard as she could to stir her drink. The liquid and ice sloshed inside, clanging against the sides, making her heart rev with excitement. For the first time in a long while, she wanted nothing more than to lounge on the couch with her alcohol, very much out of the public eye and drama, and watch whatever reality shows decided to grace the telly that night. She didn’t need any guys, any flirting, any sex. She just wanted to be with herself.

She poured the drink into the glass sitting on the counter in front of her, throwing the metal contraption into the sink before taking a long gulp. As she let out a long sigh of content, she sauntered over to the couch and flopped down onto it, making sure that her drink was steady on the table before she made any sudden movements.

The second she turned on her telly, the soft sounds of conversation and score music floating through her apartment, a knock dominated all other distractions.

Oakley did nothing to hide her irritation as she stormed over to the source of the noise, throwing open the door and hissing, “What?” in Zayn’s face. “Do you need me to unclog your toilet again, Nancy boy?”

His dark eyebrows drew together in annoyance. “That was one time, Oakley. And I was sick.”

“You think I didn’t realize that? That was fucking disgusting.”

He rolled his eyes. “Look, there are people who want to talk to us in my flat. Are you coming or not?”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “I guess. Lead the way, boss.”

He failed to make a snarky comment in response before crossing the hallway to go back to his home, easing the door against the opposite wall to reveal the two young adults sitting at his kitchen table. They were leaned close to each other, whispering in low voices, maybe plotting what they were going to say to convince the clients of accepting their proposal.

Oakley’s eyes scanned over the two young adults, noting that they looked about her age, give or take a few years. The girl with the reddish brown hair and thick glasses was somehow still beautiful, although Oakley typically hated when girls wore glasses to hide their faces. But Oakley’s eyes lingered longer on the man to her left, biting her lip subtly.

Suddenly, Oakley took back everything she’d thought before, about wanting nothing more than her own company that night. With his short dark hair, solid build, gorgeous smile, and oddly attractive birthmark, it took everything Oakley had in her to keep from turning on her seduction techniques and batting her vibrant green eyes at the stranger.

“Hi,” the girl greeted with a friendly smile, ignoring Oakley’s prolonged judgment of Liam. “I’m Penelope.”

“And I’m Liam,” the man followed up. His face was much tighter, more serious, like he wasn’t really excited to be running this errand. “You’re Sphere?”

“Yeah,” Oakley agreed, shooting a confused look at Zayn that he didn’t return, much less acknowledge. “What’s this about?”

Penelope sighed before looking up at the other girl gravely, pretending not to notice that Oakley’s eyes kept flitting over to Liam’s face. “To make a long story short, there have been fires set all over the city, and people have been getting hurt. We have a suspicion that it’s not the everyday villain, and we’re forming a group of…elite individuals like yourselves to join.”

“That’s sick,” Oakley exclaimed excitedly, clapping and turning toward her partner. “We’d love to join. Right, Zayn?”

“No,” he responded in a flat voice, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. “We wouldn’t.”

“Yes,” Oakley argued between clenched teeth, “we would.” After widening her eyes threateningly at him, she turned back to the confused recruiters at the table and said, “Ignore him. He’s kind of broody. But we really would love to be a part of your group.”

Zayn turned to glare at his long-time annoyance. “Don’t speak for me!” he chastised. “You’re the sidekick, remember?”

“I’m not your fucking sidekick,” Oakley borderline shouted, forgetting for a second to keep her composure in front of the beautiful man sitting twenty feet away. “We established that we’re equals.”

“Okay, if we are equals, then my opinion should count just as much as yours, right? And we’re not joining.”

Oakley narrowed her eyes, ready to slice into Zayn with all she had, as Penelope piped up, “If you guys need some time to talk about it, then we can come back later. I’ll just leave my mobile number, and when you come to a decision, give me a ring.”

She slapped her purse on the table and rummaged through, finding a bit of scrap paper and a pen, scribbling something onto the surface and sliding it across the table at the two bickering superheroes.
Without hesitating, Oakley snapped forward and snatched it up, pocketing it. “Thanks,” she responded. “I’ll try to make Zayn see the light.”

Penelope smiled. “Good luck.” It was clear, even to her, that Zayn wasn’t going to be easy to convince. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Bye,” Oakley called as they took their leave. “Bye, Liam.”

He turned over his shoulder, giving her a small smirk, and Oakley just grinned back, hoping that he would take some sort of hint.

But he didn’t even seem remotely interested as he ushered Penelope out the door and shut the door behind them.

The second they left, Oakley reached around and slapped Zayn off the shoulder. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she snapped in irritation. “That would have been wicked! Imagine it, Zayn, Mr. Shadow Fighter. We could be battling alongside other heroes, taking down the bad guys… We’d be like the Justice League or The Avengers or something!”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “I don’t know if we’ve met, but I hate working with anyone. It was hard enough having to adjust to working with you, and I’m not really itching for more sarcastic, ridiculously annoying and immature people to deal with.”

“Wow, Zayn, tell me how you really feel,” Oakley replied bitingly, rolling her eyes. “But I’m sure they won’t be as much of a handful as me! Let’s just give it a shot. Don’t you want to help people? Wasn’t that your whole reason for making that damn suit of yours?” He remained quiet, so Oakley kept speaking. “You’d be able to make so much more of a difference. And think of how much fun we’d have!”

Thoughts started revving through Oakley’s mind as she continued to think about it. “Oh my God, I could talk to people who aren’t you! Maybe get some guys…”

“You and your never-ending sex drive,” Zayn remarked, sighing. “Look, I’ll think about it, okay? But I’m not really loving the idea.”

“Then do it for me,” she replied with a cute little smile.

For a second, it almost looked like he was going to cave. His expression softened as he looked in her eyes, took in the sweet features of her face that had always been so deceiving, and sighed again. Oakley felt her heart start to race in anticipation of his affirmative answer.

“We’ll see,” was the best she got. But from his tone, she could tell that she was well on her way to winning him over.

What she didn’t know, and he did, was that she was winning him over in more ways than one, and it absolutely killed him inside.