“They seal securely with the magnets. Trust me, you’ll need them for gravity shifts,” the attendant reassured.
As Erzo excused himself to take a call, the sales attendant leaned closer. “Be careful around Charro. They’re only loyal to credits.”
Polly’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry. What do you mean?”
The clerk’s eyes darted around before she continued, “Charro are known for their opportunism. They have no loyalty and will abandon you in pursuit of a more profitable outcome. It’s shocking he’s spending anything on you.”
Her initial instinct was to defend Erzo, but the clerk’s earnest concern left her unsettled. Could Erzo be trusted? Was the Intergalactic Dating Agency blind to personal ethics, focusing only on genetics? Polly bit her lip, her mind racing as she glanced out the window.
Outside the store, Erzo paced with an air of agitation—his conversation on the high-tech communicator seemed fraught with conflict. The clerk’s warning stirred doubts she hadn’t considered. She desperately needed to find information about Erzo on the version of the Internet they had here.
The saleswoman offered her another pair of shoes.
“How about these? They’re especially good for running. You never know when you’ll need to make a quick getaway!” she joked, unaware of how close to the mark she was.
Polly chuckled nervously. “Running keeps us healthy... and sometimes safe, I guess.”
The clerk leaned in conspiratorially. “Speaking of running, my sister dated a Charro once. He was the fastest runner I’ve ever seen, especially from commitment. It was only about convenience. Those Charro, huh? You can never tell with them.”
Polly laughed, the sound a bit strained. “That’s... good to know. I’ll keep it in mind.”
Erzo approached them, overhearing the tail end of their conversation. “Running, huh? Is that a plan?”
“Just keeping fit,” Polly replied quickly, her eyes darting between the clerk and Erzo. “Exercise is important.”
Erzo nodded at the saleswoman. “If she needs these for running, get them.”
“Sure thing,” the clerk responded with a knowing smile. “Always good to be prepared, right?”
As the saleswoman stepped away, Polly’s eyes briefly lingered on the shoes before being irresistibly drawn to Erzo. His rigid stance signaled the storm brewing within, a stark contrast to the calm exterior he projected. “Everything okay?”
“Just a friend with a message about a situation,” Erzo said.
“The issue Phares mentioned? Going home?”
Erzo shook his head, a shadow crossing his features. “No, something else.”
“Want to talk about it?” Polly asked, her voice laced with concern and a desire to understand the Charro before her.
“Not now,” Erzo replied, his words clipped, shutting down any further conversation.
Polly nodded, understanding that some topics were too complex for a shoe store conversation. She turned her attention back to the shoes, her mind still on the possibility of running. Was Erzo truly different, or was Polly just another pawn in a cosmic game she barely understood? She questioned her inexplicable link to the alien and the interstellar adventure she’d been thrown into. The next thirty days were no longer just an adventure—it was a mystery she needed to unravel, starting with the enigmatic Charro by her side.
Erzo, with his formidable stature, carried the bright, almost comically mismatched shopping bags with an ease that belied his warrior-like demeanor. The bags, filled with Polly’s newly acquired essentials—from practical clothing to bathroom necessities and undergarments—seemed out of place in his large, capable hands. He didn’t utter a word of complaint or show any sign of discomfort. An admirable trait, Polly thought, considering the vivid colors of the bags clashing with his rugged appearance.
Polly faced the perplexing challenge of selecting appropriate bras for space travel. Erzo, ever the typical male, suggested only the most provocative items, causing her to roll her eyes in exasperation. ‘Maybe later,’ she mused, ‘if things go well.’ But for now, practicality reigned supreme in her choices.
Polly couldn’t help but notice Erzo’s mood darkening. The personal call he’d received earlier seemed to weigh heavily on him, casting a shadow over his previously light demeanor. Polly’s curiosity grew as they strolled through the space station’s corridors.
She felt a pull to discuss the warning from the sales clerk. Not that she had any interest in Erzo. It was pure curiosity driving her, nothing more. After all, they had just met—any deeper interest would be premature, wouldn’t it?
As they continued shopping, Polly couldn’t help but notice the initial reluctance and underlying tension from the other merchants when dealing with Erzo. Although his charm eventually won them over, his unmistakable effort was involved.
This observation prompted her to question him. “Are your people not very well-liked?”
Erzo’s answer to her question was blunt, yet tinged with a hint of resignation. “No, we, Charro, are not particularly well-liked.”
“Why is that?”
