Meet Me in the Middle

Chapter 25

11 December 2018

I've seen a lot of things. Been to a lot of places. Met a weirdly diverse amount of people. I've felt the evening sun on my face while standing in knee length water, with the sand threatening to slip away. I've stood on a slippery rock under a waterfall, trying desperately to not lose my footing. I've been in the air, with a parachute on my back, tethered to a speedboat by a rope and dipped into the ocean.

All of these are to say that I've perfected the art of not giving a reaction. Or the art of keeping a neutral face, no matter the situations or internal thoughts. But none of that could've prepared me for this.

From Beta:

On your left.

Of course he loves Marvel too.

I wrap my arms around myself, the tan leather jacket doing a piss poor job of keeping me warm and turn to my left.

Whoever said that the winds don't pick up whenever you see an attractive bastard was a liar. Or maybe, it's just a windy day. A lock of my own hair hits my face. Yep, it's a windy day.

I rub my eyes to make sure that I'm not hallucinating (again). Samar always walks with an air of someone who knows his value. Even though with time, I'm beginning to realise that what he fairly undervalues himself (I should know, I'm an expert). No, he's a liar and a jerk.

He's wearing his trademark black shirt – I'm beginning to wonder if he ever washes the thing – with dark blue jeans and his woodland shoes. He's wearing a watch I've never seen before and keeps trying to fix his hair. He has probably found out that I'm mad at him and has decided that it would be just easier to kill me before the confrontation, because he's wearing a black Under Armour bomber on top of the shirt. Yep.

Of course he looks better than any other day on the day I'm furious at him and can't wait to whoop the idiot's ass. Using my shoes, of course. I'm not touching the shady bitch.

He grins as our eyes meet. Easiest to spot in the crowd, indeed. He stops in front of me and bends down to hug me and I step away. He frowns and looks mildly affronted. Ha! Take that, you lying liar who lies!

"Morning."

I smile forcefully and say "Wonderful morning, isn't it?"

He makes a show of checking me out. It should be mentioned that I'm wearing a baby pink sheer shirt today inside the tan jacket. Yes, really.

"It is now." He grins again and I roll my eyes as he starts walking towards the canteen.

"Why are you wearing a jacket today?"

"Why are you wearing a pink sheer shirt today?"

"My regular clothes were in the laundry. Your turn."

"It's a bit windy. It's Avi's jacket." He leans at the already crowded counter and rolls his eyes when the cashier doesn't listen to him.

"Don't you have your own?" Oh satan, please don't tell me you have a black bomber. I might actually die.

"I don't need winter clothes here. They're back at home. Why won't the cashier listen to me?"

I should probably let it go, but I'm not gonna. And I'm nothing if not extremely capable of delivering a perfectly well timed and ill meaning taunt when the opportunity presents itself.

"Hey, here's an idea. Why don't you try to tell the other server to get your order and then keep repeating it every two seconds? And then maybe that will goad the cashier enough to actually listen to your order. Or the server will get it himself? Either way, your goal will be fulfilled, no matter who initiates the task."