The Adventures of Lewis Beacon: Part 2 - The Hookah Lounge (continued)

I was going to save this next slot for my MUTEMATH: After entry. But sinceI'm doing it as an article for the Chimes next week, I'm saving it until then.

This slot is instead will be taken by a continuation of my Lewis Beacon experiment. So without further adieu:

The three guys sat down at a table closer to the front and immediately gave some orders to the waitress. There was no way for Lewis to hear what they were saying. They looked perfectly normal, like old friends.

"Is that them," Lisa asked.

"Uh-huh," Lewis mouthed. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Who's the guy with them? Is that--" Kyle began before Lewis cut him off.

"Brad... yeah."

"Well, he doesn't look bad at all," Karen said. Suddenly she smiled. "Did you just make that up?"

The whole group started to chuckle.

"No. Guys, it's not funny," Lewis tried to defend himself. "Those are the same three guys I saw in the locker room. And that middle one? That's Brad."

"Well if they were beating him up, why isn't he all bruised and scared?" Karen was annoyed that Lewis was continuing the joke.

"I... I don't know. I don't get it."

"Yo, maybe you should go over there and ask them" Hewett suggested.

The rest of them laughed.

"Dude, whatever you think you saw, you obviously didn't," Kyle said. "Maybe they were different guys."

Lewis looked at the rest of the group. They were all staring at him, waiting to see what he was going to do. He stood up, and then without a word, sat down next to Hewett, just barely squeezing onto the couch. It allowed him to watch Brad without obviously turning his body. There was a moment of awkward silence and then Karen broke it, asking Lisa how classes were going for her. Kyle piped in a tease at Lisa's poor study habits. Hewett pointed out that Kyle's were no better, and the conversation continued similarly as the hoses were passed around.

Brad, Brent, and Turk, despite their buddy-buddy appearances when they came into the lounge, were hardly talking now. Brent and Turk were watching a soccer game on a TV mounted on the opposite wall. Brad was sitting slumped back, staring absently at the hookah.

The waitress returned with their drinks. They had all ordered the same thing. After dropping them off, the waitress spotted Lewis' gaze and came over to him.

"How's everyone doing here," she asked cordially. "Can I get you another drink?"

Lewis realized she was talking to him and looked up.

"I'll have whatever those three are drinking." He nodded in the direction of Brent's table.''

"Sure thing." She turned to rest of the group and asked if they needed anything. Lewis continued staring at Brad. He hardly moved.

A minute later the waitress returned with Lewis' order. It was and energy drink called COCAINE. Lewis was thanking the waitress when Hewett suddenly elbowed him in the ribs.

"What?"

"It looks like your friend's going to the bathroom." Lewis looked up as Brad walked by their table and into the back. He was wearing a different shirt from before in the locker rooms, but it was still the same guy. The hood on his red hoodie was pulled over his head and the complexion of his face looked strange. Lewis couldn't tell if it was his imagination, or the dim lighting of the lounge that made Brad look like he was wearing makeup.

"I'm going to ask him if he's alright," Lewis said as he got up and followed Brad to the bathrooms.

There was a long, thin hallway that went around the kitchen and opened up into a small waiting room for the single restrooms. Brad was just closing the men's room door as Lewis came around the corner and jammed his shoe into the crack.

"What the fu--" Lewis quickly threw his hand over Brad's mouth.

"Shhh! I know what's going on, I want to help you."

Brad pulled his head away and looked angrily at Lewis.

"The fuck you know?"

"I know you've written an article on something those two guys you're with aren't happy about. I know they just roughed you over in the Men's Locker Room at school. I know you're here against your will."

Brad opened the door more.

"You don't know anything," he said, sounding much less certain than before. His eyes were shaky, darting at the hallway behind them and then back at Lewis. In the better lighting Lewis could tell he was wearing makeup. Finally Brad sighed.

"I can't fight them alone," he said. "I think if you hit anyone enough they'll give in."

"Let me help. I'll call the police right now, tell them you've been assaulted. They'll come in a few seconds and you can testify--"

"It's not that simple. If you want to help get my computer back. It's in my room, 250 Boer. I don't have a roommate. If you can get it, bring it to the document rack on the second floor of the library, tomorrow at five."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be fine. Just get my computer."

"They're adults. The police will--"

"--You really don't know anything. Thanks anyways, but you don't want to get involved."

"Library at five. Got it." Lewis turned and nearly ran into a girl walking towards the women's room.

After apologizing to the girl, Lewis went back and sat down next to Hewett. Everyone at his table was staring at him, waiting to hear what happened.

"Well?" They all seemed to ask in unison.

"I'll explain later. Right now I've got to go take care of something."

He pulled a crumple of money out of his pocket and counted out what he owed.

"Are you ditching us?" Lisa spouted in fake annoyance.

"Yeah. I'm going to help him."

As he left, Lewis realized Brent and Turk were finally talking to each other. He tried to look as naturally as possible as he strained to listen to their conversation. But the music and the people were too loud. Lewis hurried onto the street and down to his car. He had to get to Boer before Brent and Turk did.

The Adventures of Lewis Beacon: Part 2 - The Hookah Lounge

It was a cold walk from Lewis' car to the lounge. Winter seemed to be stepping on Fall's toes. People stood on the sidewalks, huddled in groups talking outside of a hot dog joint and coffee shop across the street. They were mainly just post-punk kids, with their dirty, greasy hair and skinny jeans, pretending their rebellion counted against mother nature.

Someone pulled up in their car, right in front of the Hookah Lounge. A kid, probably no older than eighteen, hopped out and grabbed the door to the lounge as the car drove away. Lewis snuck in behind the kid.

Inside the lounge the smell of smoke was permanently in the air. Loud hip-hop bass bumped from speakers in the ceiling. Long, slow strains of hookah smoke wound lazily out of the mouths of a group next to the door. They were sitting on plush couches and swivel chairs around a table with three large hookahs. People talked and laughed over the music. The owner sat at the bar towards the back, staring at a wall-mounted flat screen TV.

Lewis was supposed to meet some friends that night. For a minute he stood at the door, staring around the club. The greeter was just asking him where he'd like to sit when Lewis spotted his friends. They were around a table near the bar. One of his friends, Hewett Vekeraam, stood up and waved at Lewis. Hewett was extremely tall, nearly six and a half feet to be exact. He had dark, brown hair, nearly black, with bright blue eyes.

Also at the table were Hewett's girlfriend, Karen Linderhill, Kyle Brown, Hewett's roommate, and Kyle's girlfriend, Lisa Phillips.

They had already ordered two hookahs so Lewis asked the waitress for a latte. The waitress walked away, and as soon as she did, Hewett leaned forward and asked, "So what took you so long?"

Lewis smirked, "You wouldn't believe if I told you."

"Try us," quipped Lisa.

Lewis recounted the entire event that had just happened in the gym locker rooms.

"And you didn't help him?" both women exclaimed in unison.

"Yo, fuck that," Hewett said. "If I meet Brent or Turk, I'll fuck them up!"

"I'm kind of with the women," said Kyle, "I'm surprised you didn't help him."

"Dude, they were as big as cavemen," Lewis said. "It would have been like me versus two giants. I wouldn't stand a chance."

"I'm sure my man called Campus Safety," Hewett said in Lewis' defense.

The other three looked at Lewis to see his response. Lewis winced.

"Well... I, uh. I..."

"What?"

"Why not?"

"Great! This Brad kid is probably dead now," Karen huffed, sitting back in the couch.

"They're not going kill anyone. That would be stupid," Lewis said. "You'd never get away with it at Calvin. There are cameras everywhere."

Everyone stopped talking for a while. Lewis could tell that Kyle, Lisa, and Karen were obviously disappointed in him. Hewett just grinned sheepishly. The waitress came back with Lewis' latte and set it down on the table. Lewis thanked her. She smiled fakely and walked away.

Lewis was watching the TV above the bar when Kyle got his attention.

"What did you say 'Brent' looked like?"

"Uh," Lewis turned back towards Kyle, "he was about as big as a house, with a black faux-hawk, and dressed in black sportswear."

Kyle nodded towards the door.

"You might want to see who just came in."

The whole group turned to see three men walk into the lounge: Brent, Turk, and Brad.