Centaur's Anxiety: Chapter 2 (Old)

After that outburst and waiting for his footsteps to fade away, Noriko had bounded out of the supply closet with all three of her fluffy tails waving wildly in excitement.

“Yooooooooooouuuuuuuu did it! Twelve hundred, Elena! Twelve! HUNDRED!” Jumping up and down and leaping up to hug me and hang off my neck.

That became everyone's cue to come out of hiding.

It was awkward though. Only Noriko was really excited about the money. I felt torn between humiliation(?) and confusion, remaining silent, while everyone else was either still in shock or wanted to look at the paper I still pinched between my fingers.

“Toss it.”

“Twelve hundred!!”

“Let's go to the address now.”

“No, later. We should scout it out ahead of time.”

“What's twelve hundred divided by nine?”

“If that's his phone number, let's prank him.”

“A hundred thirty-three dollars and thirty-three cents per person? Awwwww.”

“How about you actually go and we'll break all the windows when we dive in to rescue you?”

“President, have you been watching action films again?”

“How much are those coupons worth?”

“Would you be quiet?”

“No! Oh! I have to check my phone, make sure it all got recorded to show the bookie tomorrow!'”

“You're the only person who calls Allison that, you know?”

“That's Airi-san! Oh no! I forgot, how are your abs feeling? Do you need an ice pack?”

I half-listened to the chatter and ideas (with Noriko just now letting go of my neck and pushing past the ring that had formed around me) not knowing whom to listen to. His face was on my mind, all three of them: his normal, almost flat expression; twisted, shouting rage which made me rub where he punched me unconsciously; blushing, stammering, and head kept low. I wasn't sure what to think of his mood swings other than become curious and wanting to see more.

But what an awkward way to ask me out, not to mention suspicious. His embarrassed face looked like some of the other confessions I've received before. None of those ended well though, like that letter Albrecht had written about how my breasts were big and beautiful and nothing else. This time though, straight to dinner at some address none of us had bothered to check on the internet until it was too late.

“O-okay!” I had to make a decision, try to turn this from weirdness into an opportunity for some kind of victory. So my face became firm, but my words were from whatever had come out of Ezra's mouth. “We'll go and break all the windows! Uh, after I see what he wants, so be prepared tonight!”

Almost everyone tried to shoot down the first suggestion entirely, though President Ezra was glad to hear me agree and insisted on doing it if the building looked suspicious. Hopefully, everyone would stop her as usual until she calmed down.

We all went home after that, to drop off our school things and prepare... Whatever that meant. A real plan was never put together other than 'I go, they follow, we gang up on Shortstuff when I call them.'

I was alone for the walk home, getting nervous, then calming down, getting angry, then calming down, trying to gather my thoughts and constantly feeling for that slip of scrap in my coat's inner pocket sitting with my housekey. Nothing productive came out of it. After all, how do you get a read on someone you've never directly met before who usually has a face of stone?

All of my movements became automatic once I got home. I unlocked the door, greeted mother, dumped the key on table, went to the bathroom, then found mother looking over the scrap of paper that I must have put underneath the key.

Mother slowly raise her head with a dainty smile on her face and my mind raced to come up with a story, anything to say I wasn't going to see a boy.

Suddenly an hour was gone in a blur of questions, denials, retractions, half-truths, clothes, escape attempts, perfume, and in the end a moment of disappointment for her.

I convinced my grandchildren wanting mother that it was the address and number of a new member of the club, which was handed off to me by mistake and forgot about while she filled in a real application form. She didn't have to know we don't ask for the home addresses of our members and I'm not even sure where that paper will lead me anyway.

I informed her that the entire club would be having a 'welcome potluck' at her place and that I needed to go out and buy some chips to bring.

She let me go with a warning, or was it pleading, for me to find a nice boy, to bring back the receipt, and not become a lesbian. My mother is worried for my future, sure, but I think she's more concerned about never holding a baby again.

I had no idea how long it would take to reach this address so I called everyone to gather at the cornerstore we frequented so we could all go together and plan.

After all of us arrived, President Ezra made a big show of critiquing what she counted as preparation: disguises.

Which only some of us indulged in and very poorly at that.

The cold isn't stinging today, but did Tadia really have to wear three scarves? She probably accidentally lifted her head  a bit while putting on one of them and her very recognizable thick purple fog was seeping from between the cracks.

And how is Kelly supposed to go unrecognized with a pair of sunglasses on and still wearing those rings around her tail?

President Ezra was the worst of them all though, marching around us in that winter camouflage outfit she bought from a military surplus store plus goggles. What happened to that puffy yellow parka she loved so much?

At least Gertrude and Ostet made some actual preparations, bringing a bunch of thermoses with hot drinks, a plastic container of dried fruit, and four bags of chips. I bought some more for them and kept the receipt for my cover story.

After President Ezra finished 'inspecting the troops and rations,' Anna brought up her smartphone's Maps app that let her search for the address I received after declaring, “Why didn't we think of this sooner?” and found that if we started moving now, we would probably get there at about 6:39PM. Early enough for scouting, Ostet figured.

Anna made me commit the directions to memory even though I had my own phone. Her mouth twitched as she did, so I know she was holding back a laugh and wanted to tease me. Yet I didn't look up the address on my phone later, I guess I still couldn't decide whether to treat this like a game for the club or a dangerous event.

My nerves progressively frayed as every step made it more and more apparent it was that we weren't heading to a restaurant and that I'd received his home address.

Around us is suburbia, this particular district is considered a bipedal living area. Most of the houses haven't been converted for usage by centaurs, slimes, or other species requiring special facilities. There are a few houses, but they all have to be custom made and the tightness of the neighbourhood has result in a few land disputes when construction goes awry. That's all the information I've heard before at social gatherings or from reading about the city's history.

If the address I'm looking for is here, doesn't that make this meeting even more suspicious?!

I want to back out. I really want to run to my friends and tell them we can come back later with a carton of eggs or box of tomatoes, but we've come so far and I'm sure everyone is more curious than nervous, myself included.

Besides, what can go wrong? Yeah, nothing can go wrong with nine monstergirls against one human! Yeah! Have to stand strong, this guy's nothing more than a mole with these odds! The 'Ranged Combat Club' is about to show this creep close-range combat! Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide!

Wait. When did I start galloping?

My new found courage deflates as I stop and panic, worrying that I just went off course.

Okay, okay. Anna's directions said it was a straight line to the turn to the cul-de-sac and the house sat on the... corner... ... THIS is his place?!

I run through the route given to me in my head several times and check the street signs and paper, everything is correct, adding to my disbelief of the house I'm staring at. Back and forth, I walk around the corner, trying to figure out what could be inside those walls.

One of the foreign embassies, I forget which- It's like someone downsized it, but tried to keep as much of the traits that made some embassies look more important.

Columned entrance way, double doors large enough to fit a centaur or arachne without them needing to lower their head, two stories high, and made almost entirely of stone. All in all, the house(?) is very official looking and almost ominous were it not for the lack of fences around it and moss overtaking the otherwise neat lawn.

... ... ... I can feel the club's eyes on me, have to stop myself from pawing the ground and twisting my fingers around each other as I hear them try to hide in the oddly convenient overgrown lot across the house.

So I go up the stone walkway and immediately hit the doorbell hoping I don't look wound up tighter than Anna's pony tail.

Please don't be home, please don't be home, who am I kidding, who am I kidding?

Straight face! Deep breaths!

Pay attention, me! Listen for what could be behind that door.

?  Buzzing?? Bees??? Is he going to throw a bee hive at me?!

The door's opening!

I look down, not ready to react to whatever's there, but find myself totally surprised by what I hear and see.

“Ah!” His eyebrows shoot up and his mouth parts slightly, “Welcome! I was wondering if you would accept or not at all.” He's cheery and he's wearing an apron over his clothes. “It's cold outside, please, come in, come in!” Are those oven mitts tucked in his left armpit? “You're a bit early, but the dolmades will be out of the oven in ten, make yourself at home.”

Dol-what?

... I enter with reluctance, and he's already turning around to lower the volume to rock and roll I've never heard before blasting from a smartphone dock.

I'm glad he didn't see and his invitation to dinner seems sincere, but there's plenty of time for him to pull something yet.