Raincoats | The Umbrella Academy

Adolescent Suppressants

Some people dwell on past interactions so much that they can't see where future ones will bring them.

Admittedly, Charlotte Cafferty had always had this problem. Her existence was shaped by a select few events in her life, that she chose to think about more than was healthy. Her birth, which was the day she was given up, the day of the fire at the Calhan's house (that one physically shaped her as well), and the day that she met Denis.

That day was nearly a year after she had run away. At the time, she was working as a waitress at an old diner and hadn't paid any extra attention to the dark haired young man that had walked in. When Charlotte had made her way over to the booth he picked, their eyes locked. His were a dark hazel and held her gaze better than anyone she had ever met. It was like he didn't want to look away.

"What can I get you?" Her voice had only changed a little since having left her last caregiver. Her tone was more pleasant and she had learned to speak louder when talking to customers.

Denis had shut the menu that lay open on the table. If he had noticed her accent, his face didn't show it. "I'll have the steak and eggs, ma'am." His own voice was modulated and smooth. Charlotte immediately liked him.

She jotted his order down on her blue notepad. "And would you like anything to drink with that?"

The customer handed her the menu. "Coffee and two French creamers, please."

"I'll be right back with that," she smiled pleasantly before turning on the heels of her Mary Jane's. Everything was just like it was usually. Everything except Denis. There was just something compelling about the man that piqued Charlotte's interest.

He sat alone at his booth, stirring his coffee and working away at his steak and eggs. When Charlotte came around to drop off the check and collect his dishes, he watched her diligently. "Your hair is pretty," he said simply, gesturing with the receipt she had handed him.

A shy smile broke through her usually unmoved façade. A blush even found the apples of her cheeks and spread to the tips of her ears. "Oh," She touched the juncture of her neck where her freshly cut hair fell. "Thank you." It had been the first time she had gotten more than a trim and she was still getting used to it being so short.

This was way before she had realized what a pompous ass he really was, so everything he did just came off as charming. "Could I get your number?" He nodded towards the pen and notepad hanging out of her apron.

So he was one of those guys. Charlotte had never been a fan of the idea of dates or relationships, and most of the men who hit on her (Denis included) were way too old for her. Before she could really consider it, she answered him. "No. Sorry, I have a boyfriend." She didn't and had never before, but it was the most effective response in most cases.

"I never said I wanted to date you. I just asked for your number." He signed the receipt quickly. His handwriting was a neat, elegant cursive.

She watched this with interest. None of the older men had ever played it off like that; she almost believed him. "I'm also a teenager."

Denis crossed his arms and quirked a busy eyebrow. He had to be at least twenty, probably in college."So? I never said that I wanted to sleep with you. I like making friends and you seem..." He paused for a long moment, taking in her full appearance. "Interesting."

Blinking dumbly at the way he phrased it, Charlotte took the receipt back and the money he had set next to it. "Still no." Too old, too arrogant.

There was a glimmer in his eyes she saw before walking away, one that told her that he considered that a challenge. And he did, because he came in around the same time the next day for the same thing. Steak and eggs, a coffee, two French creamers, and her number.