Benedict (18+)

-4-

            It's raining when the car pulls up to Forsythe's Publishing House. I don't see Amina outside the glass doors. Although a touch of brief anxiety rises inside of me, I quash it quickly. I know how to get to Mr. Forsythe's office. I have my notebook. I have to be able to do things on my own if I'm ever going to fully reenter society. 

I exhale sharply before exiting the vehicle and rushing under the awning to escape the rain. Only one or two drops land in my hair but other than that, I stay dry. I'm just about to open the glass door when someone on the inside opens it for me. I utter a thanks, trying to move past them, but they stop me, "Are you Benedict?"

I halt and glance over my shoulder at the man. He's a little taller than me with cropped blond hair and bright blue eyes—typical. He flashes me a charming smile but I don't return the gesture. "Yes, that's me," I warily respond, stepping away from the man who is now standing way too close to me.

"Nice! I'm Anderson," He reaches out for a handshake, which I reluctantly take. "Amina sent me down here to meet you. She and Mr. Forsythe are in an international meeting right now."

I ease slightly when he mentions that Amina sent him, but I don't fully give my trust. "Oh, alright," Is all I say before he beckons me into the building.

It smells clean, fresh, sterile—nothing like the dead air at the hospital. Something about it parrots the smell of book pages which makes me smile. My reverie is broken when Anderson begins speaking again, "So, Amina told me that until they're done, you can just relax. We can go get coffee, if you want."

I want to reject his offer. I don't want to get coffee with him, though I do want coffee. If I say no and then he sees me there, he'll think of me as rude. And if he's someone I may have to work closely with, then I don't want him to have that perception of me. Besides, what else do I have to do? Nothing but sit at my desk and stare into space.

"Uh—Yeah. Coffee sounds good," I press a small smile on my face, which triggers a grin from him.

"Awesome! Let's head up there, then."

The elevator ride is packed and quiet. I'm glad he doesn't try to make small talk, though. I prefer the silence, if that hasn't been clarified well enough. When we get to the coffee shop on the 12th floor, it's fairly busy. We order and he directs me to a table of a few other people. 

My eye twitches a little at the prospect of being social but I pinch myself to reassert reality. "Everyone, this is Benedict, Benedict, this is everyone," He introduces as we sit.

I give a polite, close-lipped smile at the others, expecting them to continue their conversations and pay me no mind. Unfortunately, they don't.

"So, Benedict, I hear you're taking over for Amina?" A blonde woman to my right asks as she digs her spoon into the yogurt cup before her.

"How does it feel to get to be around Mr. Forsythe all day?" Another woman across the table asks.