The Desire Variable - Vol. I

【09】Oliver With a Twist

I side glanced at him, amused by his enthusiasm, and when I looked up front again, I saw we were reaching the crossing where we would part. I felt a twinge of regret, knowing that we'd have to separate soon.

"In the meantime, I still don't know your name," I argued, hoping that I would hear it before we reached the station.

"I am having way too much fun to just tell you now. You know what, give me your number, and I will send you a letter every hour, sleeping hours excluded," he proposed.

Oh, he was as smooth as the operator! Since we were working together, he would get my phone number eventually, so I didn't see the need to protest. I nodded and clearly saw his shoulders relax a little as if he'd been anxiously expecting a rejection. I told him the digits as he typed them in his phone, a victorious smile on his face. We reached the fateful spot and separated with a hand wave. Once a few meters away from me, he did a double finger-gun, and the corniness of the gesture made me giggle softly. Although, I was glad to see I wasn't the only one still sporting it. He then swiftly spun around and shook his head disapprovingly, scolding himself for the gesture.

I remained right there to watch him cross the road until I remembered that I was on a tight schedule. My headphones were quickly slipped on and I walked to my bus stop. Oli was standing by his, and he lifted his eyes as I arrived. He was holding his phone in front of him and pointed toward it. At the same time, mine buzzed and took it out of my back pocket. He'd sent me a message.

Another one of those unshakable grins bent my mouth when I read its content. It was an image of the puppet from Saw, with a text that said "Let's play a game." I received another message, this time it said: "Get ready for a long, long wait. My name's from Eastern Europe, and it has, like, 25 letters in it."

"Aren't you of Irish descent?"

"Dammit, I've been made!"

"Get on with it, Edward Nigma. What's the first letter?"

"Nice reference! So, the first one is right after James Bond's boss," he answered, and I understood that I would have to guess each and every letter. This one was easy.

"N!" I replied within two seconds.

"Well done! Talk to you in an hour, Andrea Walker."

My bus arrived before I could answer, so I got on reluctantly. Our gazes locked as I stood against a window, and we waved at each other one last time. There wasn't enough room for me to keep our conversation alive, but as soon as I reached the surface again, I took out my phone.

"Nolan? Neeson? Neville? Nelson?"

"Tut-tut! That's not the game! You have to wait for the letters, you cheater."

I put my phone away, half-frustrated and half-impressed by his resolve. When I reached my building, I was still smiling. Sure enough, Mrs. Godfrey was waiting for me in the hallway.

"You're late," she coldly told me.

The time on my phone indicated I was three minutes late, and I bit my tongue, held back the urge to roll my eyes, and went to her. Without another word, she invited me to a small office she had on the ground floor and made me sit in front of the desk. After she'd shuffled inside a drawer, she took out some papers and handed them to me, before showing me where I had to sign. I didn't trust her enough to sign them blindly, so I went through it rapidly. It must have been some divine assistance because I was fucking glad I did. The amount indicated wasn't right. It was almost twice the price that we had agreed upon.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Godfrey, there seems to be a problem here," I kindly said, pointing at the wrong number. "We agreed on seven hundred," I reminded her.

"Miss Walker, Ballard is one of Seattle's trendiest neighborhoods. I have to adapt to the market."