Chapter Eighteen
I’m laughing. You’re laughing. We are all laughing.
Roman
The bell above the door at Sweet & Salty chimes, followed by a happy male voice greeting, “Elodie!” Beside me at the counter where I’m restocking the display case after the morning rush, Elodie freezes.
“Soren,” she says, smiling rigidly at the man approaching. “Hello.”
Her discomfort is palpable, spurring me to check out this Soren . I choke when my eyes land on him. Because Soren ? Soren looks exactly like me.
Exactly . Like. Me.
He’s at least within an inch of my six foot four, and his auburn hair is cropped close, just like mine.
His eyes, a blue nearly identical to my own, sparkle with a friendliness that leans perhaps a little more than friendly as he gazes down at Elodie, the scruff of his short beard—again, exactly like mine—casts shadows on the lower half of his face as he grins, a beacon in the dark.
He’s like…
He’s like me if I were shot up with pure sunshine every day.
How does Elodie know sunshine me? Why does Elodie know sunshine me well enough for him to be looking at her like that ?
And why am I only finding out about this after I’ve gone and declared my character grown? I could’ve used this for so much fuel… so much teasing…
This is wasted potential right here.
Unless…
Well, character grown people still tease the people they care about, don’t they? Surely I’m allowed to use this for a friendly, not at all hostile bit of teasing? Yes?
I lean against the counter to observe as I weigh my options, tucking my now empty pastry tray under my arm.
Soren orders a flat white and a blueberry scone at Elodie’s recommendation, tiny little hearts falling out of his eyes as he watches her move around behind the counter to fulfill his order. Poor guy. He’s completely oblivious to her discomfort.
She spills his first drink, curses, and starts on a replacement.
I smirk.
“I’m Soren,” sunshine me says, drawing my attention. He smiles at me, rays of light pooling in gray specks on his irises, breaking up the blue. “I go to school with Elodie,” he continues, smile faltering only slightly in the face of my… face. “Man, you look just like me,” he mutters.
“You look like me,” I correct, eyes darting to Elodie. “You went to school with this guy?” I ask.
“Go to school with,” Soren says. “We go to Iferous Tech together. I’m in her Wednesday class. And we’re friends. We’ve hung out a couple of times.” His eyes rove over me. “Man, seriously, you look just like me.”
“ You look just like me ,” I retort as my brows furrow, eyes narrowing on Elodie, who looks like she’d rather be just about anywhere else.
She winces, sliding Soren’s coffee and scone across the counter to him. “It was nice seeing you, Soren!” she proclaims, plastic smile stealing over her face. “Thanks for coming by!”
He blinks, then drags his eyes away from me to level his sunshine on Elodie, beaming as he bids her goodbye, saying he’ll see her on Wednesday. He gives me a Later, doppleg?nger , then he’s gone, the bell above the door heralding his exit.
I clear my throat, raising an eyebrow at a blushing Elodie. “Soren, huh?” I ask.
“Yep!” she squeaks, grabbing a rag and approaching the mess she made with his first coffee. “Soren!”
“He seemed pretty friendly.”
“He’s a friendly guy,” she confirms.
“Looked like he had a bit of a crush on you to me,” I poke.
“Yes,” she answers, wincing. “I thought he’d be over that after our date, but…”
After their… what now?
“You went on a date with that guy?” I ask, thumb pointing over my shoulder toward the windows, where he’s no longer in view. “ That guy?”
Her nose scrunches, and she tosses the wet rag into the dirty laundry bucket. “Yes,” she huffs. “ That guy happens to be really nice.”
Happens to be really…
“Sweet, he could be my twin.”
Her already wrinkled nose wrinkles further. “He could not,” she says. “Just because he’s tall and a redhead doesn’t mean he looks like you.”
“He was almost exactly my height, breadth, width, and weight. His hair was cut like mine, his beard had the exact same growth pattern as mine, and his freckles were enough of a match to mine that I felt like I was looking in a mirror. The sole difference I could see is that he has golden flecks in his eyes, and I do not. He said himself we look the same. You’re seriously going to stand here and tell me you don’t see that? At all?”
She shrugs. “Yeah,” she lie, lie, lies, before hedging her way to the truth. “I mean, kind of a little bit if you squint, maybe he looks a tiny bit like you.”
“So you’re attracted to a man who kind of a little bit if you squint maybe looks like me enough to have gone on a date with him?” I ask, one eyebrow raised.
She scratches her nose and shrugs again.
My lips twitch, then, of their own accord, part, spreading wide in a smile that shines unfamiliar on my face.
Elodie’s eyes bug out, and she lets out a whispered curse. “Put that away!” she hisses. “You look evil. Evil . You’re going to scare away the customers!”
“You think I’m hot,” I gloat, a sense of victory puffing my chest. “You think I’m hot, and I bet you just hate it that you think that.”
She points at me, pink-painted nail a mere inch from my nose. “Character grown people don’t act like this!” she accuses. “Not to mention, I do not think you’re hot. I think Soren is hot. And he barely looks like you at all!”
Mmhm. Sure. And Clark Kent doesn’t look like Superman.
Yeah, right.
Still, she might be right about that character growth thing… unfortunately.
I sigh, tapping my fingers on the tray under my arm as my smile drops. “Fine, fine,” I capitulate. “I’ll drop it.”
Her shoulders sag, then tense right back up as I move on to another interesting fun fact Soren dropped while he was here.
“Iferous Tech, huh?”