Expectations

Tanya had never walked anywhere in her life.

This wasn't because she drove or was carried; this was because Tanya didn't walk.

She slinked.

The square wasn't busy today, and that was how she liked it. The sky was threatening to rain enough that the only people who were nearby were the freak on his box and a few Asian tourists poking through a clothing sale. No one was going to get in her way, which was good. She had people to meet. Places to be.

This person worried her. Not many people worried Tanya. You didn't have to be worried when you were as unnoticed as Tanya; you could save your ass just by not being where you were expected. This man, however, expected her. And she was serving herself up to him, a Tanya-shaped burger on a massive silver platter. She had no doubts this man was dangerous.

And now he was moving. Christ, his plans were starting to come together. Things were going to start moving.

She knew that. That's why she was meeting him. That's why he was calling in his favors, why she was expected.

Tanya frowned. Did she just use Christ as a swear? That wasn't good. People would notice that. She'd have to watch herself; no reason for her to fall apart now. When the front lines formed, other people would die for their causes. All Tanya ever did was support.

Her feet ached. Her tall white stilettos made her regret every step she took towards the cafe, even more than she did otherwise.

Still, she kept slinking. Tanya had people to see, places to be.

After all, she was expected.


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Next.
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An America Story

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