The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 32 - Reintroductions

It's one of those days when I need to get some work done and, typically, George couldn't care less about his upcoming deadlines. I attempt to work at home, moving between rooms to avoid his annoying ways but I can't avoid the distraction. Even in the garden, George would find a way to appear in my line of vision or make enough noise to infiltrate my headphones.

That's why I'm spending my Saturday in a local cafe with my headphones in and my notifications on silent.

I've been here for about two and a half hours, finished one assessment and planned another, and rewarded myself with a chocolate cookie. My next reward is already planned out (i've been eyeing the milkshakes leaving the kitchen since I arrived) for when I finish this set of revision notes. My third reward will be a sneak peak at my messages, knowing there will be one from George, and an allowance of five minutes to reply. I decide then and there that I'll try to stay here until 3PM. With that thought, I get back to it.

The only time my mind strays from my work is when I'm coming up with those rewards. It keeps me going for another two hours until I finally start to feel a little antsy. A little bored. Letting out a sigh, I take a look around the cafe to see it's definitely filled up since I arrived here hours ago. There are families sitting together arguing quietly over something, there are couples on dates sending secret smiles to one another, and then there's the lone studiers.

"Excuse me," I catch the waitress' eye, "Could I order a vanilla milkshake please?"

She nods, "I'll bring that right over."

Sending her a smile and thanks, I return to people watching. 

When I first looked over, I hadn't noticed the pang in my chest at the daughters and their parents. Now, it almost suffocates me. The last time I spoke to my father, he sounded tired. Not just oh I didn't sleep well last night tired but I'm exhausted with life tired. Or perhaps he was simply hungover. When I offered to come home, order us food and put a film on, he'd instantly rejected me. Don't worry about me, he'd insisted, you enjoy yourself. How was George? And the subject was gone. That was last week, maybe the week before, and I'm wondering if I should go home tonight. I know I'm the daughter, the younger one, but this has gone on too long. The anger I once felt has dissipated into a soft sadness. Maybe if I go home and force him to spend time with me, he'll let me in again.

My wandering thoughts are interrupted by the chair opposite me scrapes on the floor. For a split second, I have no idea who the man sitting at my table is. Then, the sickly grin and lack of emotion in his eyes jolts me. Walter. When he spots the recognition, the sickly grin becomes smug.

"Hi again," he actually sounds jolly, "Luna, right?"

I try - try very hard - to hide the disgust that runs through my body when he says my name. How does he know my name? Had he spoken to George? Surely after what happened, George wouldn't tell him anything personal about me. Before I get a chance to reply - and later I'm thankful this happened so I could swallow the lump in my throat - the waitress reappears and drops my milkshake on the table with a quick smile. I bet she's read the situation all wrong. From the smirk on Walter's face, she's thinking this is a date. If I wasn't feeling sick before, I definitely do now.

"Thank you," I mumble at her retreating figure. "Do I know you?" That's aimed at him. It's a cheap shot, I know that, but it's the route I'm going down.

"Hmm," he mumbles, "Shall I remind you of how we met?"

I eye my milkshake, picking it up and sipping on it. This definitely had to stay close to me during this conversation. "Verbally."

That gets a dark giggle from him, "Okay. Picture this: I'm getting pizza when I spot an old friend. Even more excitingly, I spot this lovely charm at his side. Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to speak to her. I don't know how it happened but she suddenly got really... wet."

I'm unable to hold back the eye roll at his version of events. "Can't say I remember you, sorry."

"How is darling George?" When I shrug my shoulders, he continues, "I've heard that you two are quite the pair. Rarely apart, I'm told."

"Are you aware of how creepy you sound?"

He's happy with that response, "Is it scaring you?"

I scoff, "Did you need something? Or did you just come over to say hi?"

For a few moments, he quietly watches me. Taking advantage of his silence, I unlock my phone and click on George's name. I don't want to waste my time with messaging, I don't even read the ones he's sent me, and go straight for a call. Not that being in public bothers him but Walter remains quiet, watching my movements.

"Finally," is George's greeting, "Did you mute your phone?"

"Yes. Where are you right now?"

Hopefully, he senses my tone. I don't want to sound too desperate for him but I'm not sure what this Walter is capable of. I mean, the first time I met him he dunked a drink over my head. What was next? Slam cookies into my face?

"I can be there in ten," he notes, "You ok?"

I nod even though he can't see me, "See you in ten."

His sigh is heavy, "You in trouble?"

"Okay, see you in ten."

And I hang up. I don't want to freak him out, at the moment it's not a big deal, but I don't want to be here alone.

"Boyfriend on the way?"

I glare, "Yep."

The smirk turns to a smile as his hand wanders across the table. He runs a single finger along the back of my laptop, over the side of my pencil case, and finally over the empty plate next to my books.

"You know what he's about?"

I scoff, "Don't try and turn this around. You're the gross, creepy stranger that tipped a drink over me."

Now that I know George is on the way, I feel a little more relaxed. Although, I don't want to wonder how he will react to seeing Walter opposite me. I like this cafe, I want to be able to return here. It's more likely that can happen if George doesn't slam Walter's face into the table.

Walter puts a hand on his chest, "Now you've really hurt my feelings. Are you sure the drink is the real reason why you're so mad at me, baby girl?"

Baby girl is the most disgusting thing I've ever been called. I need to remember to tell George that he can never call me that. In anger, I decide to humour him.

"Why else would I be mad, William?"

His eyes gleam, "My name is Walter. And I think you're frustrated because I know your boy more than you do. Also, you're immensely attracted to me."

I'm not going to argue with him. I don't mind this back and forth, it fills the wait for George. However, I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me heated. In fact...

I laugh. Out loud. A real one. My body relaxes automatically at the action and it forces me to calm down. Yes, this man is scary but this man is also so immature.

"Something funny?" He bites.

"You," I wipe my eyes, "Thinking you could ever have a chance with me."

Instantly, I get the reaction I wanted. He clenches his jaw, looking as angry as I felt moments ago, before replying, "You're ignoring the first reason, hon. I know George, really know him. And not just the bits I want to know. I've seen him in places your pretty mind couldn't even imagine, with people you wouldn't want to dream of. I've seen him in his worst moments. Can you say the same?"