When I Met You

chapter eight

I must have stared blankly into space for a while when I realized that Luke has the email that Pedant sent me. I want to ignore the fact that he has the that paper with him. So what if he has it? it wasn't a confidential email anyway. But at the back of my mind, I somehow felt circumspect and that sent shivers down my spine. The thought of Luke–who I barely know–has that kind of stuff in his possession made me discomfited. I could easily tell him to just throw it away or burn it into dust but I suddenly remembered that Mr. McCartney handed me that paper back before leaving his room, with his signature in it.

And that was enough for me to know that the paper might be a really important document and it shouldn't be thrown away.

So with that, I had to get the paper back. I told him that night that it's important so I think it's best if he would keep it for awhile and I would just get it tomorrow after I get back from work. He agreed and told me that we could meet at the bridge that we bumped into at Central Park. After that, I decided not to reply anything back. I just closed my laptop then went back to reading my book and jutting down a few random ideas before falling asleep on the couch with Chase snuggled next to me.

The next day, work was hectic than the usual. With the book fair coming up, everyone's doing their best to prepare everything so that the event would go as smoothly as possible. After lunch, I got a call from New York Times regarding to the advertisement and article that they'll be putting on the newspaper for the book fair so I drove my way there after I got off from work. It took a few hours to settle everything. Luke said that we could meet around 8PM because he had to stay at the museum around closing time and since it was still around 6PM, I decided to go home and make myself some dinner.

I decided to make Gratin dauphinois and Garlic Steak. The recipe for Gratin dauphinois has been passed down for many generations and it has always been one my favorite food to cook and eat. My grandmother used to cook it for me when I was little and somehow, it always tasted better than how my mom does it. I asked my mom one time why Grandma's Gratin dauphinois taste better and nonchalantly, she replied, "Cause she was born and  raised in France."

And as I grew older, I realized that the real reason why Grandma cooked better was because she always loved cooking, she was so attached to it. It fascinates me whenever she would cook something with little variety of ingredients. And yet, it would always taste like it was cooked by one of the greatest chef. I never understood how she could do that. But the more I watched her cook, the more I see her love in doing it. Grandma was loved by a lot of people, and somehow that love reflects to what she does. As for my mom, she just cooks because she has to.

At first I didn't get what that really meant until I started writing. I always feel like I love writing and I'm passionate about it. But the more I attempt to write something, there's always a thought that lingers in my mind, that is, I wouldn't be able to finish what I started. I always blame my lack of motivation but really, maybe the truth is, there's just really not much of a love in it and soon, all I could think of was I have to finish the book just because I have to.

Then I lose everything altogether.

Time seemed to have run off faster until it was already 7:40PM. I took my coat with me and slipped on my maroon Converse before leaving my apartment to go to Central Park. I was expecting that it would be snowing really hard tonight but I was wrong. Snowflakes were falling lightly but there were only a few, almost like there isn't any. As I got in to Central Park, my eyes immediately wandered around my surroundings. There were still a few people walking around the place, the bushes  had this  fluffy blanket of snow resting on top of it. It took me a while to reach my destination, getting a little bit lost for a while but when I got there, Luke was already on top of the bridge, his back was facing infront of me. As I got there, he turned to face me while removing the earphones that was once hanging on both of his ears. His cheeks were blushing crimson red from the coldness and he gave me a smile, almost as soft as the snow on top of the bushes that I passed by earlier. I returned the smile then stood next to him.

He handed me the piece of paper which was neatly folded and I took it slowly--surprised by his warm hand touching onto my cold ones--then put it inside my pocket.

"Thank you, Luke." Was all I could manage to say.

"No problem." He replied. We looked at each other for awhile and he bit his lower lip, I can tell he wanted to say something more but refused to. I rolled my eyes at him but gave him a nod. "What is it?" I asked.

"Okay, I read what was in there." He gave in. Obviously he did but I couldn't find it in me to feel furious about it. It kind of feels like it's my fault since I wasn't being responsible enough with my things and to think that I was actually going to throw the folder with that paper inside, made me think that I'm so glad I didn't because if I did, I'd be swimming around the chute by now.

"I already figured that out." I said nonchalantly. He was still gazing at me even though I was already facing at the view infront of us, my arms resting on top of the bridge. It made me feel uneasy for a short period of time and when he noticed that, he quickly looked away.

"You know, It's a really good offer." He continued.

"Yeah but I'm starting to think that they gave out a really good offer to someone who doesn't deserve it." The words came out swiftly and after I said it out loud, I started to think that maybe I should have closed my mouth instead.

"How can you say that?" He asked, there was something in his tone that made me think that he didn't agree with what I just said and that me regret my choice of opening my mouth even more. Sure, I've met him a few times already but I don't think it's a brilliant idea to pour out my thoughts to him. I didn't want to answer his question but I knew that he wouldn't look away not unless he gets an answer, and his look only made it worse.

"It's just that, there's a lot of people who deserves it more than I do—someone who has actually finished a book or two and not someone who struggles to finish one." I was surprised when I said those words out loud. I had no idea that's what I really feel until now. Maybe it's just a phase but being ungrateful isn't something that should come from me. Just because I'm insecure with myself doesn't mean I should be ungrateful.

"Well, do you want the offer, generally?" he asked. "More than anything." I muttered.

"Then that's it. Maybe they see something in you that you didn't see in yourself, at least not yet. I think you should feel confident about it." He reassured. I nodded at his statement, he has a point and it somehow gave me a peace of mind.

"It's something that I have learned when I started working at the Art Museum. Sometimes you see a bunch of painting that looks so random and for some people, they think it's plain and boring but there are people who sees beauty in it—and those people are the ones who stay looking right at it for who knows how long while there are some, who just walks by it. Everyone's different, everyone sees different things than the other." Luke said it while looking at the view infront of us. I looked up to him and that's when he turned his gaze away from the view then to me. I gave him a genuine smile and he returned it.

It was fate that made me get that kind of opportunity, and right then, I never felt more motivated to give my best to someone who sees the beauty in me even when I couldn't seem to find any.

The intimidating feeling I once had when I first met Luke was slowly being lift off from me without even realizing it. He just knew what I needed to hear and that gave me a reassurance. I didn't know why and how but there's just something about him that made me feel like he could be of big help to me.

"You know so much about this kind of stuff, do you?" I asked. He just smiled while looking down on the ground. I bit my lower lip then looked away from him.

"Hopefully enough to help you." This time, we were both looking at the view infront of us, neither have spoken for a while, but a small smile was plastered on our faces.