I woke up earlier than usual this morning, rising as the sun filtered through my curtains. I don't know why I feel anxious for today, it's not as if I'm going on a date.
It's just someone amending their mistakes. They knocked over my food, so it's only fair that they pay for it, right? Right.
I fiddle with my uniform in the mirror, trying to straighten out the blazer that I had elected to wear. I reach into my armoire, pulling out one of my Christmas gifts.
It's a golden vine brooch. I smile slightly, pining it to my jacket.
With luck, I remembered to eat this morning. The only thing that I could find in the fridge that wasn't frozen was an apple. Speaking of, I need to go grocery shopping soon.
"Will I have time to stop by after school?" I ask myself, checking the time on my phone.
[One Missed Call] the display read. I click on it, and Jotaro's number pops up on the screen. There's an envelope icon next to the name, signifying a message. The timestamp is 1 am.
"I just woke up." Jotaro's deep voice rasps. He tries to continue, but it seems like he's choking on his words. "I'm sorry. I spoke to Jolyne's mother, she says that Jolyne loves you very much. Talk to you later." Jotaro sputtered, and the message was quickly cut off.
I stare at the screen, mouth agape.
"That was out of character," I comment to myself "wonder what he means by 'talk to you later'."
Jotaro rarely calls me at all. Of course, there aren't very many men that I know who talk in a constant state of aggravation, so it's not hard to recognize his voice.
Even rarer is the occasion that Jotaro doesn't call me 'idiot' or 'emotional' for voicing my opinion. Anything that isn't an insult that comes out of his mouth is welcome, in my opinion.
I check myself in the mirror, trying to find anything amiss. Everything seems fine.
As I walk down the stairs, I remember the shiny new calculator that I left on the kitchen counter. When I get to it, I'm disappointed.
"Come on! I hate this type of plastic." I shout out frustratedly.
It's the type of plastic that they package scissors in. The edges are melted together, making it impossible to pry it open with your hands.
I reach for the kitchen scissors and cut, hoping that I don't nick the calculator.
"There you are, motherfucker." I hum, holding it up. "Into the bag you go!" I say as it drops into my school bag, lost in the mess of pens and paper.
My doorbell rings as I'm pulling the bag over my shoulder.
"Coming!" I yell, running to the door. I slip my shoes on, wincing as the back brushes against my heel. It was true, my ankle was almost purple when I pulled my socks off last night.
A fervent knock raps on wood, and I yell once more.
"I'm coming!" I shout, unlocking the door and pulling it open.
Sofia is grinning at me mischievously.
"Morning, Y/N!" she beams.
I step out, shutting the door behind me. "Good morning, Sofia. Hi, Anna." I acknowledge my friend who's standing further back, fiddling with a Gameboy.
She looks up reflexively, and groans loudly as the device emits a sad fanfare.
"Good morning, Y/N." she huffed, shutting down the tiny red box and placing it in her backpack.
Anna steps toward me before swerving and walking down the sidewalk. Sofia quickly follows, stepping in tandem with the other girl.
"Wait up!" I call, picking up my pace. I wince as I reach them, my feet already aching.
"What's the matter?" Anna questioned.
"Nothing, my feet just hurt." I brushed off the concern, "these shoes are so uncomfortable." I comment.
Sofia chuckled to herself. "Oh, don't worry...."
"Huh?" I respond.
"I told Anna all about how you're going to that restaurant for your 'not date' this afternoon."
"Sofia!"
"What? If you have nothing to hide, what's wrong with me telling anyone? You won't tell anyone, will you Anna?" She asks.
Anna looked at me, a small smile lighting her face. "Not a soul."
I sigh in relief. "Good." I state, smacking Sofia on the shoulder. "I'm already harassed enough at school; I don't need more cannon fodder."
Sofia let's out an exaggerated shriek at the contact.
I roll my eyes, "Hurry up, there's a chemistry test today."
"I completely forgot!"
_ _ _ _ _
We had, luckily, missed Leaky Eye Luca today. I could see him a few meters off roughing up some man, but it was safe to say that he hadn't noticed us. We made it in time for the test review in the morning, and I felt good about my possible results.
Chemistry is just dangerous baking the way I put it.
Still, the expectation of meeting those strange men made me nauseous with anxiety.
"I don't think I'm going." I whisper to my table in Italian literacy.
"What do you mean 'I'm not going'? Over your dead body am I letting you miss a date! I don't think that you've ever been on a date in the history of... ever!" Sofia hissed back at me.
"It's not a date!"
"Right..."
"So?"
"I'm making you go whether you like it or not."
_ _ _ _ _
The sun was high in the sky as Sofia pushed me off the edge of campus. With a shove, I was unceremoniously stripped of my school bag.
"Sofia, I need that!"
She tosses it to one of our friends with a grunt. "And you can have it back when I see you after lunch." She says. "Here."
My phone flies through the air, and I scramble to catch it without my stand.
"Now go! You're going to be late!"
My group of friends giggle before jogging to the cafeteria, leaving me alone.
"Why did I make friends with such bitches?" I question myself, sighing. "Well, I don't have a way out." I huff.
I start walking in the direction of the airport.
_ _ _ _ _
The airport was busy. People were being transported to and from the large parking lot by shuttle or cab. I almost hoped that the traffic would give me a good excuse. If I didn't see him, how could I have gotten in the car?
But there Fugo was, sitting in a silver Audi. He was pulled off to the side of the road, ironically in front of the same bench that I pass going to school every day. It was unoccupied.
I shuffle to the car, ready to knock on the glass when he looks up from a book. He rolls down the window, gesturing to me.
"Get in."
I oblige, opening the door and sitting. When I close the door, I'm handed the little red book that he was reading. History of Rome.
"Can you put this on the back seat for me?" He asks, already shifting the gears from park to drive.
"Sure," I say, turning my torso to stretch out and set the book on the back seat. "Were you just sitting here with all of the doors unlocked?"
"Yes. Why?" He turns to me for a moment. "Hey, put your seatbelt on."
I pull the strap down over my chest and buckle it. "I don't know. It just seems kind of dangerous-!"
I squeal as Fugo swerves into the road, pushing his foot down on the gas petal.
"Slow down!"
He's unconcerned as he cuts off a shuttle at the entrance to the airport parking lot.
"I will when we get to this light. I don't like to be stuck in traffic. It's infuriating." He responds, letting up on the gas as he flips the blinker, pulling into the turning lane.
At least he took the time to put on his seatbelt.
The click of the indicator is the only noise for a moment. I'm unsure what to say. It's not like I know him. I didn't even talk to him yesterday; I was too busy being harassed over what food I got and algebra.
"Thank you for waiting for me. I appreciate it."
He takes his eyes off of the road to glance at me. Now that I get a good look at him, he's actually quite attractive.
"Hm?" he seemed confused, "Oh, that. It was nothing, I'm just following orders." he conceded.
'Who's orders?' I think to myself. If he means that guy in the restaurant, I'm curious about their relationship.
The light turned green and Fugo put his attention back onto the road, this time at the speed limit.
"Hey," he started, acknowledging me, "Narancia is a shit-for-brains fool in case you needed to know."
I giggled. "You have some weird friends, you know. By the way, I'm pretty sure that the method of cooking is more important than what the meat is."
He raised his eyebrows, silently egging me to continue.
"When you think about it, it makes sense that livestock would be vegetarian. If you're raising a carnivorous animal to be eaten, you have to feed its prey, and then wait for the prey to mature before you could even think about feeding the other animal. It's a waste of money and time." I state.
I had been thinking about it this morning. I only heard bits of their conversation from the day before, so I made assumptions.
"Really? Enlighten me, Ms....." he drifted off.
It was at this moment that I realized that I hadn't given my name in the ordeal.
"Y/N. My name is Y/N Kujo."
"Then enlighten me, Ms. Kujo." He muttered my name.
I nodded, continuing my train of thought.
"Okay. So the vegetarian animals cost less. Plus, they don't have to be fast or strong to hunt, so they're naturally fatter."
Fugo hummed, "I thought about that as well."
"Um... I never got your name." I stutter, embarrassed. It was a lie, I had gotten his name, but what person wants a stranger saying their name like they're some sort of celebrity?
The car slowed to a stop.
"Pannacotta Fugo." He shortly stated. Fugo unbuckled his seatbelt, stepping out and crossing to my side of the car. He opened the passenger door.
"Thank you, Fugo."
He nodded, offering his hand.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and took his offer, grasping onto him for support.
"Bucciarati has business later, he's just stepping in."
We step into the building, the entrance bell jingling as the door swings shut. Not as if it could be heard over the shouting in the back room.
"You're seventeen years old, act like it!"
"If I see a single toe out of line, I won't hesitate."
"Okay! I get it!"
"Wow, you're in some deep shit!"
"Mista!"
Fugo rolls his eyes and leads me to the back room, the squabble still in full proportion.
"What? I'm just stating the obvious!"
"It's not like I meant to! I got nervous, it just happened!'
"Oh, you just got nervous and pinned some pretty girl down like a molester? Yeah right, you wanted to-"
The man with the lipstick clears his throat. He was the first one to notice us in the room, to the dismay of the two boys bickering at the table.
Narancia quickly shut his mouth, averting eye contact as I was ushered to the table.
"I hope that I'm not intruding." I speak.
The air is thick with unsaid words. Mista stared at me, dumbfounded.
Narancia's brother is sitting in a large armchair in the corner.
"Of course not, we did invite you."
Fugo pulls out a chair for me.
"Thank you."
He says nothing, only pushing it back in and sitting in the one adjacent to mine.
I ball my fists under the table as I'm shortly greeted by Mista and the man with the lipstick.
The table shakes and Narancia jumps in his seat.
"I'm sorry for tackling you." He says to me. "I just wanted to- OW!" he jumps again. "I didn't mean to, please forgive me."
He's staring at me again. I notice the small cut under his cheek, and his arms were littered with bruises.
"I'm sorry for overreacting. It was my fault." I reply.
I feel bad for him. He looks at me with large purple puppy eyes.
Fugo huffs. I thought that I caught a glimpse of a small yellow thing buzzing around the black-haired boy but say nothing.
I'm just imagining it.
Fugo brushed his arm against mine as he brought his elbow up to rest on the table. "That's Mista." He said, introducing me.
Mista gave me a lopsided smile, dropping his fork to give me an encouraging thumbs up.
"It's nice to meet you all."
The man with the purple lipstick hummed, taking a sip from his teacup. "Likewise," he acknowledges, "my name is Abbacchio."
"I'm Y/N."
"A pretty name for a pretty lady!"
My eyes widen as my face turns red.
"Mista! Shut up!" Fugo warns, pouring tea from the pot and handing it to me. I bring the cup up to my face, smelling the liquid. Earl Grey, possibly.
Narancia is about to speak when a waiter steps in, pushing a cart with small plates stacked atop each other, and a silver tray with delicious cake. He's out as soon as he's in, and the sweet scent wafts to me.
Mista glances over, face whitening for a moment before a perplexed outrage is directed toward the way the waiter went.
"Hey, what's the deal with this?!" He yells, pointing at the tray.
Fugo looks back, glancing at me once over before he responds.
"What do you mean? It's strawberry cake."
My mouth waters as he mentions the flavor. Maybe the impact of no proper breakfasts is getting to me.
"Yeah," Mista scoffs, "I can see that by looking at it! That's not the point here!"
"Well, what's wrong with it then? It looks good to me." I ask, craning to look at the frosted goodness.
"There are four slices of cake!"
I look around the table, counting the people. Me, Mista, Fugo, Abbacchio, and Narancia. Not counting the man in the white dotted suit, who had left the room at some point.
"You're right, there are five people sitting here. Why would they only bring out four pieces?"
"I already ate." Fugo dismissed me.
"Do you want me to DIE?"
Mista's exclamation brought a chain reaction, noted with Fugo exasperatedly sighing.
"Again with this, Mista?"
I look at the plate, then back at Fugo, and finally to Mista, who was yelling in tangent about how the number four was "bad luck".
"Choosing from five is fine, choosing from three is fine. But when you choose from four, something bad will happen!" His face darkened, "When I was a kid, another kid adopted a kitten from a litter of four that was born in our neighborhood, and then the cat scratched his eye right out of his head!"
I grimace at the image. Clawed out eyeballs is definitely something I want to think of while I eat.
"Of course, he beat the cat to death later, but that's not important."
"Could you not talk about that at the dinner table? I might as well not eat if I'm gonna puke it up later." I interject, already feeling my stomach turn.
Abbacchio stood, making his way to the tray to take the first slice of cake.
The boys didn't take notice, too busy squabbling about the cake that was no longer a problem.
"If you don't like it then just don't eat it." Fugo said tiredly.
"But I want strawberry cake!"
Narancia sat across from me at the round table. His pencil was stuck in his headband, and he was staring blankly at a textbook in front of him.
I cough lightly, trying to get his attention. He doesn't hear me, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes scan the text. I move to the next option.
He jumps as my shoe makes contact with his shin. He turns rigid, looking up with a scowl.
"What are you looking at?"
"What are you looking at?" I responded, trying to peer at the tiny arial letters.
His gaze softened partially as he pushed the book to me.
It looked like an elementary school textbook. There were simple multiplication and division questions plastered across the page, with big purple boxes where you write in your answer.
Most of them were right, only a few of the harder ones being missing or incorrect.
I push the book back. "Cool."
Narancia's mouth gapes open for a moment. However, it closes quickly, and he turns his head away from me.
"Cool." He sputtered.
_ _ _ _ _
A/N: I'm sorry for my hiatus! School has been really rough lately, so I've been drained of all my time and motivation. Hopefully it'll lighten up, and I'll be able to update more frequently. I appreciate all of the kind comments and votes that I've gotten on this story! I've been inactive lately due to the reasons above, but I read them and I can say that I love you all :).