Both of the guys dart their stares at me, their eyes going wide when they realize it’s true. “No way,” the taller one with shaggy hair says.
The brunette beams a huge smile at me and I take a step back. What the fuck is going on here? “Mr. James, I’m Ashley King. I go to Redford High.” Then jabbing her thumb over her shoulder, pointing at her friends, she adds, “And this is Zane and Mills, my crew.” I’m confused. Why are kids from the local high school here?
“Yeah, how about you turn that camera off,” I tell the one she indicated as Zane, who is holding a camera on his shoulder, taping our conversation. Ashley looks to Zane and nods yes, telling him to do it. Zane rolls his eyes but drops the camera to his side.
“Turn it off,” I order him. With a grunt of protest, he turns it off.
“That a boy, Zane.” I applaud.
“Your name is really Zane?” Marcus questions, his hands on his hips as he gazes up at the trio, his expression stoic.
The one called Zane looks down, and his head rears back as if he’s only now just noticed Marcus. “Holy shit,” Zane exclaims. “You’re a midget.” Immediately, Ashley turns and smacks him on the back of his head. “Ouch,” he whines. Kids.
“You don’t call them that, Zane.” Then looking at Marcus, she smiles brightly. “They prefer to be called little people,” she adds.
“Or just people . . .” Marcus replies.
“I’m sorry about him,” Ashley continues, ignoring Marcus and Zane. “He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed.”
“I’m sorry,” I intervene. “Ashley, is it?”
“Yes, Mr. James, and might I say I am a huge fan.” She steps toward me, reaching out a hand, but when I cross my arms she drops it. “We’ve watched every YouTube video of your stunts available. You are an amazing man.”
“And that would probably mean something to me if you were legal, hon, but seeing as how you’re not, let’s skip your mediocre attempt to appeal to my vanity. What do you want?” It’s been years since I’ve been recognized or interviewed. A large part of that probably has to do with the fact I’ve been living in other countries for the past twelve years, but that’s not all of it. My glory days are long gone, my legacy having faded.
Ashley nods, understanding I’m not susceptible to flattery. “I’m here about Desperately Seeking Epic.”
“What?” I ask, furrowing my brows in further confusion.
“The Craigslist ad.” Without looking, she reaches a hand out and snaps her fingers. Mills immediately hops to and pulls a paper from his backpack, handing it to her. As I reach for it, Marcus snatches the paper from her hand and backs away.
“Look, kids, he’s just gotten into town,” Marcus interrupts. “Why don’t you guys call tomorrow and maybe he’ll have time to discuss this with you.”
“Is Neena here?” Ashley asks, stretching her neck to look over my shoulder and down the hall.
“Neena?” I question. “Who the hell is that?”
Ashley’s expression falls into a look of confusion as her gaze meets mine. Then she looks to Marcus. “He doesn’t know about the ad or Neena yet?”
“You need to go. Now,” Clara interjects as she charges in. “This is a place of business and if you’re not here to skydive then you have no reason to be here.”
“Freedom of the press, lady,” Zane quips, but backs away when Clara steps toward him. The woman has a mean look that could cower a grizzly bear. I don’t blame him.
“I imagine you’re all skipping school right now, yes?”
The three look at each other, but Ashley, the boldest of the crew, shrugs nonchalantly. I want to smile a little because in some ways she reminds me of Clara. “Sometimes we have to make sacrifices to get the story,” she replies. “Like Tom Brokaw in Baghdad.”
“Well, kid, this ain’t Baghdad and you sure as hell ain’t Tom Brokaw,” Marcus announces as he moves to herd them toward the door.
“And if we don’t leave?” Zane asks, standing firmly.
“I may look small, kid, but I can kick your ass,” Marcus threatens, jabbing his finger at Zane. “I’m the perfect height to headbutt you right in the balls.”
“We’re underage,” Ashley argues. “You can’t touch us.”
Turning to Clara, Marcus gives her a look before he falls back, landing on his ass. He howls in pain as he grabs his gut and rolls to his side. “He just kicked me, Clara. Did you see that shit?”
Rushing to Marcus’s side, Clara kneels and acts as if she’s checking him over. Then she looks up to the trio. “How could you kick this poor innocent man?”
“We didn’t do anything to him,” Ashley cries as Marcus moans louder.
“Hate crime!” he shouts, jerking out a hand and pointing a finger at them, only to pull it back in to his stomach, feigning pain.
“How could you kick this tiny man?” Clara stands, her tone angry. “Get out. Now!”
All three of them have their mouths open in utter shock, but after a moment Ashley smirks a little and snorts, realizing they’ve been defeated. Jutting her chin, she motions for Zane and Mills to go. “We’ll be back,” she warns.