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Aris Part 2

The second thing that caught my attention was a little further down the street, on the same sidewalk as the dance school. There was a convertible parked there, and leaning against the hood was a guy.

I admit that my health-conscious mind first noticed that he was smoking. Fortunately, he was at a considerable distance from me, as cigarette smoke was on my list of things to avoid at all costs. But this mental observation was quickly overshadowed by the guy's physical appearance.

He was too handsome to ignore. The sky-blue of his eyes contrasted beautifully with his black hair and slightly tanned skin. His full lips and the scruffy beard gave his face a final touch, making him even more attractive. Another thing that caught my attention was his strong arms, visible beneath the tank top he was wearing on that sunny day. One of them was covered in tattoos that, from a distance, looked like birds. Several of them, maybe ten or more.

I was so engrossed in looking at him that I jumped in surprise when Lizzie’s voice reached my ears.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” I asked, still recovering from the shock.

“The handsome Greek guy over there. Our college mate. And trouble for anyone with sense.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“His name is Dimitris Makris. And he’s trouble. Not just him, actually. Do you see that tattoo?”

And how could I not see it? Certainly not, given that it was on that muscular arm.

“Birds...” I said.

“Yes. It’s the symbol of the Free Birds. You’ll see similar designs on t-shirts, jackets, pendants... I saw one of them with it on a belt buckle the other day. It’s kind of a code; it’s how they identify each other.”

“‘They’ who? What are the Free Birds? Like a fraternity? A cult?”

“More like a gang. They’re all bikers. About twenty in total? Maybe a few more.”

“There are thousands of students here. What makes these twenty guys relevant?”

“They’re bikers, as I said. They meet every Friday for risky stunt competitions, high-stakes betting... and, of course, there’s a lot of drug and alcohol dealing and consumption too.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

“Focus on the tattoo guy, Aris. He’s filthy rich. His mother donates an outrageous amount of money to the university every year. Besides him, there are three or four other rich kids in the group; they’re the ones who keep the whole thing going. So everyone in town pretends they don’t know about their illegal activities. Makris is definitely the worst among them. He’s been arrested several times for contempt, creating disturbances, possession of illegal substances, speeding... But, like I said, he’s filthy rich. He’s never spent more than one night in jail. In short: stay away from him and anyone you see with him or wearing anything with that bird symbol... They’re trouble.”

I looked back at the guy, who was no longer alone. A girl with bleached hair, looking to be around twenty like him, had approached and was now getting into the passenger seat of his convertible. He put out his cigarette and got in as well, leaving with such speed that the tires screeched loudly during the initial acceleration.

That confirmed what Lizzie had said. That guy definitely seemed like trouble.

And I intended to stay as far away from him as possible. At least physically. I couldn’t promise the same for my mind. His image had caught my attention enough to remain in my memory in the days that followed.

...Until I encountered him again.

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