3. Chapter 3 #4
Nothing can hide my smile, it's iridescent and we must look like two fools beaming at each other.
“Yeah I have. My dad used to take me on hikes and sometimes we'd go in a campervan to villages before heading up to loches or castles.
You'd really like Culross, everyone does! Very quaint.” I can't knock my shoulder with his at this angle, but I do knock my knee against the side of his outer thigh.
The gesture doesn't go unnoticed and his eyes fall to where we touch, he smiles and I watch the way a little indent creases at the side of his lips.
He has dimples. Have I ever noticed that on another person before?
I should find out if Grace has them, really.
“So, for my writing project I was thinking of basing the setting on Dunimarle, for sentimental value. That film was like my childhood you know,” he emphasises his words with bright eyes and I nod, following the cards he's throwing down.
“I've never been to Scotland, which is the problem. Could I maybe buy you a coffee and pick your brain?” Half way through his question, I started thinking about the little Yorkshire twang he has to his voice.
The opposite to say, Grace. He must be from around here because his accent is regional and I've worked out that the four counties of Yorkshire are broadly different.
We're in the north, obviously not as far as home, but it’s soothing, deep and my mouth twitches up at how he drawls some words without effort.
“Ah, fuck, you don't want to. It's fine, don't worry.”
I blink rapidly. What had he asked me? Quickly my brain updates me and I jolt, twisting more on the bench so I'm fully turned to him and holding his shoulder, his skin toasty underneath just a thin old movie t-shirt–it’s Silence of the Lambs.
“No, no! I'd love to do that, I mean it's no problem at all. I’ve been to Culross quite a fair bit, so anything to help.”
He does a happy shoulder shimmy, and I swear my heart does this little flip thing I've never felt before. Am I anxious about sharing something personal with a practical stranger? The adventures with Dad are some of my favourite memories.
“Great! Let me give you my number.”
My phone is still in his hands, opened on a picture of a duck sitting upon a tractor. We're sitting so close, it's easy for me to lean in and swipe a couple of times for him to put in his digits. Not missing a beat, he inputs it and adds his name with an emoji of a ghost. Very seasonal.
“Ring me so I have your number.” He says with certainty, just as a chair across from us scrapes and the table jostles.
I manage to grab hold of my latte, frowning at how cold the take out cup feels before looking up at Grace who stands alone.
There’s a mixture of wariness and what I think is guilt.
Adjusting the chair and then rubbing at her arm almost uncomfortably, she picks up her notebook from the table and it’s only then I realise no one else is sitting with us.
Teddy is no longer next to me, meaning I’m practically in the guys lap like we’re sharing an intimate moment.
Immediately putting space between us, I unfold my legs and it feels good to stretch them out.
They might as well have been wrapped around him from how crunched up I feel.
“Are we going?” I fully take her in now and see she’s already got her brown woolen coat on, satchel with her laptop over her shoulder and she turns to the cafe front where I see the rest of her friends outside waiting. Oh.
“Casper, I am so—sooo sorry. I was just in a really intense conversation about first versus third person and, well…” She audibly gulps and my heart sinks, anxiety stabbing at it on its descent. “I forgot you were still here.”
Someone end me now.
Straightening my back, I try to form words but my mouth just opens and shuts like a guppy.
Well this is humiliating. Pushing down the hurt, I make excuses up in my head, as to not let my annoyance get the better of me.
She was busy with her friends, no doubt touching on her studies and we’d bumped into each other.
I’d not been part of her plan, so I couldn’t blame her too much for leaving the coffee house and not at least saying bye. Couldn’t I?
I wonder how long it would have taken her to remember me if she hadn't forgotten her notebook.
“It’s fine,” I clear the granite lodged in my throat, force a soft smile as she gnaws on her bottom lip and fights with her stuff.
“I’ll ring you tonight.” Possibly to escape the awkward crater cracking between us, she rushes to the door which shuts with a clatter from the bells attached to the frame above.
Only when she’s outside on the street does she look back in, but at Miles instead of me.
Feeling pathetic, I can’t bring myself to even look at him, so I just take my phone out from between his fingers and shove it into my pockets, along with my hands completely. “Well that was tragic. I’m gonna go, it was nice meeting you man.” I say, skin burning right down to my toes.
He doesn’t make excuses for her, nor does he try to lighten the mood like Em would, but his jokes can get a little dark too fast.
“Let’s get a coffee soon.”
I barely nod, just removing my hand to wiggle my fingers in a farewell gesture before I make a beeline for the doorway. The smell of cinnamon and vanilla wafts with me and I’ve forgotten all about my damp clothes, but the smell from his hoodie soothes me enough until I’m out of the door.