Insecure {AUGUST ALSINA}

39.

Just a warning, This chapter is long, but it's worth making it to the end.

AUGUST

'The Cafe'. The small beige brick building that sits on the end of the block. There's a chalkboard with their specials written on the outside of it. They must have a chalk aesthetic going on, because even the name is written in a chalky font. There's paint over the bricks on the right side of the building to cover up some old graffiti.

I guess it's a fairly nice building. I'm more concerned with what's on the inside though. Catalina.

I don't want to seem like I'm stalking her, I'm not. At least I'm not trying to. I know that she's changed, so I can't apologize to her the way I would've 6 months ago. I can't even approach her the same.

I just want to know what kind of person she is now. The only way I can do that is by observing her from afar. The places people go says a lot- it says enough-about them. I mean this in the least creepy way possible. To prove that to myself, I never follow her home. I'd be too tempted and too in control if I knew where she lived.

It's odd how oblivious she is. I thought she'd be more cautious of her surroundings. Either she's loosening up or I'm way too good at this.

The cafe on Heart Street is part one of her usual spots. It's not even a spot she'd go for. It's out of her caliber. It's too high-grade. One of those places filled with college students who go to prestigious schools and pretend to look uninterested when someone new walks in.   Catalina usually goes for low-key, alleyway spots. Ones where she knows no one will try to talk to her

Perhaps the picking of this place was her 'date's' idea and not her's. Yes, I said date. I can't imagine that it'd be anything other than a date by the way they're smiling. I've rarely seen Catalina smile, but when she does I know that it's genuine. She wouldn't bother to fake a smile.

If she's ten times more closed of than she was when I knew her, which I'm assuming she is, there's no way that they're on a date. If they are, he has to be a magician.

She likes him. That's what it is.

I can't fathom why knowing that makes me feel anything. I've never thought about the idea that my feelings for her could've been real and not all made up. I just assumed I was way too good of an actor, way too much of an insensitive asshole, way too heartless, and way too invested in my true desires for me to truly like her.

I hadn't realized I wasn't thinking logically until I feel the sun beaming on my skin as I get out of the car. Approaching her one was a bold move, but doing it twice I just straight up insane. Then again, what am I If not insane?

It's selfish of me to this, because I know that she won't shove me away while she's with him. She won't curse at me or scream. She'll try to pretend that everything is normal, and that's exactly what I need; just a few minutes of her playing it cool so I can get my words out.

I see them get up. He gets up before she does so he can grab her crutches for her. I expect her to snatch them back and insist that she can take of herself, but she doesn't. Instead, she allows him to wrap his hand around her waist without visibly tensing, and leans onto him for support until he hands them to her.

That by itself makes me want to cut their date short. Crazy as it sounds, I think it may have made me jealous. I know that it's wrong for me to feel that way about her, but at least I can acknowledge that.

I walk into the café while she's preoccupied adjusting her crutches. I don't want her to notice me walking in and panic before it's necessary.

I'm halfway to her when she looks up. She opens her mouth, but suppresses her words with a hasty inhale.