Sitting at the counter of my new job, I wonder if I should have mentioned to Grid that I had to head on over work quickly, since I wanted to stop by my house before I did. Driving from school back to home, and then to work makes this long trip that takes some time, and even if I wanted to, it'd take thirty minutes as a minimum. I thought about texting her, since I was already leaving school, but my hands were already on the wheel, and I'm not texting and driving, no matter how hip it's supposed to be! But still, I feel a little guilty for not talking directly to Grid and Greg, and Bennet too since I do know him now. There's something good to me about not texting, calling, or using technology, but actually engaging in conversation with a person. I mean, texting is fine, but it should be simple. Social dynamics are complicated. Thinking and also stuck in a mental conundrum, I sigh and quickly text Grid saying that I had to go to work and was in rush. It's not an excuse, but at least I
My eyes widen in surprise. What's he doing here? I mean, does he even know I work here? I answer myself in my head as I think how Grid is his sister. She could have just mentioned it, and maybe as a good friend he decided to stop by. Bennet is nearing the counter, walking as he waves, and smiles in a pleasant manner, and I sile and wave back. "Hey, Cayce. How are you?" he asks. "I'm alright," I answer, "how about you?" Bennet leans on the counter and smiles. His eyes again are blue and pulling me in. Like a fireplace in my chest, his smile and presence seems to ignite that feeling of warmth and comfort. Thinking now, maybe I don't mind him meeting me here, and I'm not overtly surprised unpleasantly at all. "I'm fine," says Bennet, still smiling, "I, uh, happened to be in town, and I heard from Grid that you were working here, so I thought to just swing by." "Oh, that was nice of you," I say, and wave upward toward the snacks in jars behind me, "we're a little past clos
I can honestly say, I'm bone tired. After I laid down in bed, I pretty much fell asleep after setting my alarm. But, because I knew I would have to walk all the way to school, which would usually take fifteen minutes by car, I had to get up at least an hour early. Just to make sure I would make it to school. Talk about breaking your soul for school! Getting up, I got breakfast, ate, and went back upstairs to grab my bag. I had to make sure everything was there in my bag, and then rushed to head out. I actually did take the hour I needed to get to school, which leads me here walking around not unlike a zombie as I try to hold myself up. Operating on minimal sleep and already this much exertion, I'm running on fumes. And it's not even eight in the morning yet. It did strike me as a brat from the hubbub of a metropolis to get a taxi, and after walking for twenty minutes I tried to get one with my phone. Apparently, Handerville is all too small for an omnipresent taxi circuit. So, after
"I mean, Cayce can be your mate, but I wonder if you're his." "What's that supposed to mean? That I'm useless?" "I don't know, think for a moment. Mate is unconscious, possibly in a coma, and all you can do is say you can protect him. Oh, and his face looks like it got hit by car. Poor Cayce." "As if you did anything. I at least was there to carry him to a bed where he can rest. All you did was give a judging eye!" "Stop it! Both of you! You forget we have a guest!" I hear some kind of argument going on, and judging from my acute hearing, it's a little far off from where I am. That's right you forget you have a guest. No wonder Sleeping Beauty slept so long. She probably hated everyone since they kept talking about she's going to die one day! I open my eyes and see I'm in some kind of bedroom-turned-hospital-room. I'm laying in a bed, with white sheets. As I look around, the sound of arguing fades away. When you have super hearing and super sight, one tends to work bette
"Who is it?" says the dad as he walks up behind Bennet. He's the blonde and older version of his son. He looks down at me with surprise. It's clear he didn't expect me. He smiles gently."Hello there, I didn't know you were up. Would you like to come and have a seat? I'm pretty sure you would like to talk," he says stepping back and motioning me in.I hesitate. I mean, would you?Seeing this, he smiles and says, "I wouldn't dream of hurting you. You have my word. We would just like to talk. Is that okay?"I look at him for a moment, then slowly nod. I'm still thinking about how I'm not magical, not muscular, and not even covered in designer clothes. If the right person held me hostage, they'd not dream of hurting me. All those designer bags and clothes would be ruined!Bennet leads me to a couch inside the room. It's an office and a huge one at that. It must hold thousands of books from the looks of the shelves that line the walls. I'm sure this family has not read all those books. So
After walking through the house a little, we reach what I believe to be Bennet's bedroom. He told me to sit on his bed and wait. For some reason there are no chairs in this room. He doesn't strike me as somebody who can't do interior decor, but if he is, that might be an issue since I could spend hours at either IKEA or Home Goods. Looking around, I see that most of his room is unadorned. There are some bookcases, and here and there are posters, but what catches my eye, is a tiny picture frame. In it is my picture. Looking at it, it seems to be a picture of last week. I remember wearing the red sweater I'm wearing in the picture. Grid must've taken this picture last week and sent it to Bennet.Power of the twenty-first century. Capturing people when they look awful so that generations to come can mock me. Hurray!I hear shuffling, and turn to see Bennet step out of his walk-in closet. He's holding some clothes for me to change into. Seeing me he comes over. He rests his arms on my sh
Bennet leads me to a black car outside. Some of the weather has shifted into a darker way, but there's still the sun off in the distance. Some trees get in the way, but I see it, and it illuminates the red bricks of the house. It does have a warm exterior, but I think of the people inside, and part of me chills down.Opening the door, I get in, instead of crawling in. Usually I'd have to, as my car tends to be higher than this one."Oh, Bennet?" I say as he gets in and starts to buckle up."What's up?" asks Bennet curiously as he raises an eyebrow over one of his blue eyes."Is my car at school still?" I ask.I know cars are expensive, and regardless of how rich I or my family is, they wouldn't take it kindly to find out I lost one. Insurance can't cover everything."Oh, Grid took it home for you," answers Bennet, "Greg gave her a ride back here. Don't worry about it.""Oh, okay," I say as I buckle up, "I'll say thanks to her."Bennet nods before before he starts up the car and begins
Yesterday was very interesting. After we ate, Bennet drove me home to my house. We talked mostly about random topics, favorite brands, cars, and clothes. I couldn't really answer them. But Bennet listened to everything I said with such intensity, it was like he was afraid I would disappear at a moment's notice.Which makes me also aware that nobody else has been listening enough to me. Rude.After we arrived at my home, he walked me to the door. I thought he would just walk me then turn to leave, but then he grabbed my hands and pulled me into a hug. It wasn't rushed or hard or fierce. It was soft and tender. He held me firmly, but there was a way that he wrapped his arms around me that made it feel like he was afraid to break me. As if I was made of glass.It'd sound like an insult, to be fragile, but it's not. It's nice to be thought of as delicate, because that means he pays attention.He then left with a kind good-night and sad smile. I think it's called a bittersweet smile. Maybe