When a Bird Flies

Chapter 7

Addison walks next to me as we make our way to the restaurant, his hands in his pockets. I'm amazed yet again at how tall he is. He's probably a little taller than six feet, whereas I'm 5'7". Although, walking next to him, I feel like I might have shrunk a bit.

"Where are you from?" He asks.

"Sausalito," I reply, "It's a little beach town in San Francisco. Have you ever been?"

"I've never been out of the UK."

"Really?"

"Really."

"How come?" We begin to walk in the same rhythm, our shoes hitting the ground at the same time.

"I grew up here, this town is dear to me. I've just never felt the need to leave," he says, and it reminds me of how I felt about leaving home. Before I was transferred, I never had any desire to leave the place I loved so much.

Before I can ask him where he's from, he says, "We're here," and stops walking. The restaurant is beautiful, more than half of it an outdoor seating area under an array of lights that give off a very Parisian feel. A waiter comes up to us and Addison asks for a table for two. The waiter leads us to a table under the magnificent lights that look like stars, and we sit down across from each other. We scan our menus for a moment, but I feel the need to carry on our previous conversation.

"Where are you from?" I ask, putting my menu down.

"Acton," he replies. After a moment of no further explanation, I give him a look that says Please go on. "It's a relatively small town in London," he says with a chuckle, "Sorry."

"That's okay," I laugh, and return my eyes back to my menu. I can feel him looking at me for a moment before he also looks back at his menu. After we order our meals, all I want to do is learn more about him.

"So, how did you become London's Greatest Baker?" I ask. He lets out a small laugh before he responds.

"It's my Nan's bakery, actually. I've worked there since I was eleven. I wanted a job so she showed me how to work the register while she baked in the back, and then when I turned sixteen she taught me how to bake. It wasn't my favorite job at first, but it grew on me." I can tell by his smile that memories of working at the shop with his grandma are probably flashing through his mind right now.

"Does she still work there?" I ask, wondering if she might have passed away.

"No, she lives in a nursing home. I take care of the shop for her now, but sometimes I take her back for visits. She always loves that," he replies, then laughs and says, "I'm sitting here talking to you about my Nan when I should be getting to know you better. How did you find Harris?"

"I grew up reading and writing," I begin, "It's sort of who I am. It's who I've always been. Anyway, I was an intern at a couple different newspaper companies through high school, and then during my second year of college I found Harris. I got transferred to the London branch this summer and, well, here I am." As if on cue, our food arrives as soon as I finish. Even though this restaurant seems like one of the fancier ones, that didn't stop me from ordering a burger. I grab it and dig in, making Addison chuckle as he puts his fork in his spaghetti. Knowing that I probably have a lot of sauce on my face, I put the burger down and put on my most serious expression.

"What's so funny?" I ask, making him laugh more, "Honestly, Addison, you causing a scene," I joke. He lets out a loud and bubbly laugh before grabbing his napkin and standing up slightly to reach across the table.

"Allow me," he says, before wiping some of the sauce off of my face and sitting back down. He moves his hair out of his face, and I'm surprised at how good he makes the small action look. The little red flag from earlier goes up again, and I use my napkin to wipe off the rest of the sauce before picking my burger back up again as if this whole "allow me" situation never happened.

We eat in silence for a little while, but it's not an awkward silence. It's a comfortable silence, shared between two people who are not only enjoying their meals but enjoying each other's company. We continue to ask each other questions about our families and hobbies, and even start asking random questions about anything we can think of. He admits that his greatest fear is drowning. I share a story of how I peed my pants during my third grade spelling bee. He tells me that his favorite ice cream flavor is cookies and cream. I admit that I use to think monsters lived in my closet and only came out when I was sleeping. We talk and laugh while the people around us start to leave, and soon we're the last two customers in the restaurant. The waiter walks over to us and hands us the check, which I quickly try to reach for but Addison is faster. After arguing over the bill for a moment, he ends up paying.

Addison insists on walking me home, claiming that the streets aren't very safe this late at night. As we walk back to my flat, our shoes hit the ground at the same time like before. Except now there's a different feeling in the air, and I don't know what it is. But it's different.

I stop walking and say, "This is it," when we reach my flat. He looks up, admiring the skinny brick building before looking back at me. Our eyes meet, and in that moment I feel awkward. I feel like if this were a scene in a movie, he'd just kiss me. And it would be a magical kiss, and fireworks would go off behind us and some Frank Sinatra song would be playing in the background. But he doesn't kiss me, and I'm sort of relieved. We both just stand there, neither of us knowing what to say. And that's when I realize that those cheesy movies aren't even close to real life. That doesn't happen in the real world. The real world is full of awkward goodbyes and red flags in the back of your mind and not knowing what to say. I feel an ache in my stomach, and I suddenly want to be alone in my cozy alcove. Addison notices the change in my mood.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yeah... yeah I'm okay. Thanks for tonight," I say, giving him a smile. He smiles back, but I can see in his eyes that he's still a little concerned.

"Sure," he replies quietly. I turn and walk up my steps, the ache in my stomach starting to move to my chest.

"Thea," Addison calls, and I turn around to face him. "Can I pick you up from work tomorrow?"

"You have a car?" I ask.

"If it even counts as a car anymore, yeah," he chuckles. A smile slowly makes its way onto my face, the ache in my chest dissolving.

"I'd like that," I say. He smiles so wide that the dimple appears.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then," he says with a nod.

"Okay," I reply, and I walk into my flat and close the door behind me.

Maybe I misjudged the real world.