The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 6 - Spilled Drinks

The unknown voice interrupts my wanted invasion into George's mind. It's not a welcoming voice, either, which doesn't help. The man sounds threatening with an almost rough tone as he spoke George's full name. Rough and full of dark amusement. Between the two of us, I quickly conclude that I'm the only one feeling unnerved at this voice. I watch as George's attention snaps from me and towards the man making his way towards us. Now that George isn't looking at me, my eyes find the man behind the strange voice. He has to be around our age, I think, but I didn't recognise him from school. From the all black outfit, shaved head, and the three little scars on his forehead, I'm sure I would have seen him in George's gang before. He'd fit right in.

By the time he reaches our table, his face has broken into a sickly grin. I'm finding the smile more intimidating than his unemotional face. So intimidating that I quickly check George is still sitting opposite me. When I scan his face, I can see he's contemplating something. Almost as though he feels my eyes, again, George's eyes return to me for a moment. He hasn't moved his head from his position facing the man but he quickly scans my face. Ah. My stomach drops at the realisation his internal debate involves me. As quickly as they find me, his eyes refocus on the problem in front of us.

Without waiting for a reply or recognition, the stranger continues the conversation, "What a surprise to see you."

George's lips purse, "Surprise?"

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"I'm not sure," he shrugs, "I don't care to keep track."

The man's smile drops slightly, "Now, now, there's no need to be so rude."

George looks bored now, "Trust me, if I was being rude you wouldn't be stood there smiling at me."

At that, the stranger slowly slides his eyes over me. I notice George sits straighter, looking taller, as he watches, "And you've got a lovely charm, too. What's your name, honey?"

Charm? My eyebrows furrow at the degrading and, ironically, rude metaphor. Who was this guy? Did he expect me to answer him after that?

George is now playing with his fork as he keeps his eyes planted on the stranger, "What do you want, Walter?"

Was that his first name? Last name? Was he a friend of George's? I mean, from the atmosphere I'm inclined to say no but you never know with George. Perhaps he was this way with all of his friends.

Walter smirks, "Just thought I'd say hello," he leans a little closer to George as he pretends to whisper, "Can I have her after you're finished? She'd look lovely in my bedroom."

The sinking feeling in my stomach churns until I feel physically sick. Well, that's me done with the lovely pizza. What a waste. Although he has an amused glint in his eyes, I know this Walter is one hundred percent serious. Honestly, did this usually work with other girls? Or did he have absolutely no experience? Either way, I know that if someone less intimidating had said those words I would have laughed at the absurdity.

George's jaw locks before he lets out a scoff. He's completely rigid now and I can feel the anger radiating from him, "Why would anyone downgrade after they've had me?"

Was this a bitch fight? Again, I'm sure I'd be laughing if they both didn't look so dangerous and serious. They sound ridiculous. And what was the outcome of this conversation?

At that thought, I watch as Walter reaches over to pick up George's drink. Okay, that's weird. Was he going to drink out of it? Oh. Yes, he is. Walter takes a sip, making a right show of it, while eyeing a fuming George. Alright, this was really getting silly now. We are just watching a random man drink out of George's cup.