A few minutes later, both Bob and Victor were leaving the café after a quick, friendly hug, and the promise of a new friendship.
And us? We left too, after a few curses, me trying to imitate Bob by hugging the girls, getting a slap on each cheek, and the disappointment of not having found any answers.
-"So, that's it?" Emma inquired after we had paid the check and stormed outside the café.
Now, I know that us paying meant that we had interfered in the previous events and made a slight change in the past, but I'm sure Guillaume Jr. wouldn't mind earning a few more francs, right? Besides, he'll only think he miscalculated this day's fees.
-"I guess it is," Amanda replied. "And if the first meeting went like this, I don't think the second would be any different, but still, let's go see that Carpentier guy."
-"Oh, so he's the second guy Bob visited?" I said, raising an eyebrow. "I'm quite curious to see what he has become after all these years."
We walked down the street and went to a less crowded area to ensure no one sees us time-traveling. In a matter of seconds, we landed in the same spot, and, once more, marched towards the café.
Just like earlier, people around us were rushing to their offices and running around, afraid of arriving late to whatever meeting they had. I had seen many of them in our latest travel, so I assumed they worked close-by and passed through that street daily.
This time, though, we didn't have to wait for Bob and David Carpentier, because just as we were about to cross the street and step inside the café, we saw them entering right before us.
David hadn't changed much. He had that same Hispanic vibe and dark hair, but now, he had grown a little mustache over his upper lip.
We waited for them to sit down and order, and, just like yesterday, Bob chose the table behind the counter. I remembered how, whenever we hung out together here after work, he would always guide us to this table. Come to think of it, I don't reckon he had ever told me why this table was his favorite, nor why he always chose to hang out here, at Café Guillaume, when Paris had so many more places to visit and hang-out spots to offer.
And now, it was too late to know.
Whenever he was around, I would always think about those little details and would ponder, every time, whether to ask him those questions or not.
Hesitation, I grimly thought.
Doubts and hesitation were the sources of my biggest regret. I had made this mistake six years ago. And yet here I was, doing it all again.
So many promises I made to Bob, so many dreams and adventures we were planning, all broken now, all gone.
Amazing how, in the blink of an eye, everything could fade away, vanish and never come back.
After the incident, I had sworn I wouldn't do it again. I was determined not to let the hesitation get the best of me, and intended on never denying any invitation or appointment because you never knew when the person you were debating spending time with could simply no longer exist.
I had decided back then to speak up my mind, ask the questions I had always been afraid to ask. I had decided to fully live and enjoy every single moment I spent in the presence of my friends and my loved ones.
But I guess I failed.
Bob, too, was no longer, now. It pained me to say it, but no matter how much I tried to change, these hesitating moments would always come back and haunt me.
Right now, however, I was set on not messing this up, and this bloody hesitation could go rot in hell. I was not letting my doubts stop me from finding answers.
And that is why, after throwing a look in the café's direction and making sure Bob and David were too busy to notice us, I crossed the threshold of the shop and headed towards a table close to theirs, Amanda and Emma on my tail.
We sat down in the same spot and ordered our drinks. And, just like before, I asked for a newspaper. Only this time, it wasn't to kill time, but on the contrary, to hide my face with it.
I focused my attention on their table, hoping to listen to their conversation and know more.
And it looked like they were now in the middle of one since as soon as I started eavesdropping, I heard David say: "...got promoted, and they expect me to be in the field as soon as something happens so that I can cover everything."
-"Wow. Being a journalist is surely a tough job! But I'm glad you got that promotion," commented Bob.
-"And so is my wife," David added, a little laugh escaping his lips. A rough, hoarse one, but a laugh nevertheless. And not one of those bitter, cold, and dry cackles he used to throw at us whenever we'd pass by him in the school's hallways. This one was genuine and sincere, maybe even friendly. He continued: "She wanted us to celebrate, and so, next weekend, we're going on a vacation trip. Hopefully, nothing too important will occur at work, and I'll be able to enjoy those two days with Blanche."
-"I hope that too, David," Bob smiled at him.
What was Bob trying to do? Why was he, all of a sudden, trying to befriend the people we couldn't stand the most during high school? He might have been doing it purely out of sympathy, but something told me that it wasn't the case.
-"But tell me, why did you want to see me today? And why are you, umm, being so kind to me?" David asked Bob.
And, repeating the same words he had told Victor, Bob replied: "You know how in high school, we never really got along, and would always get into fights and cause problems now and then?"
David nodded, waiting for Bob to continue.
-"Well, why don't we solve these issues and become friends from now on? Those last few minutes were a good start," he winked. "We didn't start fighting, nor slapped the other."
I'm not going to lie; I started banging my head repeatedly on the table after hearing this again.
-"Hey, hey," Amanda whispered, in an attempt to stop me.
-"What?"
I looked at her wearily, disappointment stretching over my features.
-"Stop that, you're making the whole table wobble and vibrate. It's annoying," she scolded me.
I looked at her in disbelief. Emma snorted.
-"And-you-may-hurt-your-head-if-you-continue," she hurriedly added, but it was no more than a faint murmur.
Good thing I was used to reading someone's lips because if not for that, I would've missed this little statement.
-"Anyway, stop," she ordered, her voice louder this time.
I sighed dramatically.
I hadn't noticed it, but by now, Bob and David had left the café.
-"I don't understand!" I whined. "Why would Bob do that? Why would he try to become friends with them?"
-"Maybe he wanted to get on good terms with everyone he knew?" intervened Emma.
-"It's almost as if he was reconciling with everyone before he di- Wait a minute," I halted. "What if Bob knew what awaited him? He must have known that he was going to die."
-"But if that was the case, why didn't he tell anybody?" Amanda cut in. "Why didn't he tell his wife, Sam? Why didn't he tell you? I thought you guys were like brothers."
-"We were," I agreed, although a frown was forming on my face.
-"Anyway, since the first two meetings were just Bob asking them to become friends from now on, I don't think it'll be of any use to go to that third appointment. The one with Robespierre."
-"No!" I exclaimed. "We have to go! What if he was the one who killed him? What if that third meeting went differently, and not as Bob had planned?" I shook my head desperately. "We... We can't stop now!"
Even though deep down, I had a feeling Amanda was right, I couldn't risk losing this opportunity. I would find out who killed my best friend, and if it included making an extra effort, so be it. I couldn't let him down like that.
I had to... I had to try everything.
Amanda looked at me with compassion.
-"Paul, I don't think continuing is a good idea. It would be a waste of time, seeing what Bob has done in the first two meetings."
I tried to argue, but no words came out of my mouth.
-"I suggest we get back to the base now and go rest. We need that. You may not notice it now, but on the long-term, time-traveling can be quite exhausting," she said with an apologetic smile. "Let's call it off for today. Besides, I think Emma has a new thing to teach you in tomorrow's session, and the first few times, it's not so easy and takes a lot of energy."
-"Yes, I have a surprise for you tomorrow," Emma grinned.
-"Oh, how exciting!" I quipped.
-"Then let's get back to the base now, shall we?"
-"Aye, we shall, Amy!"
-"Excuse me? What did you just call me?"
-"A-Amy?" I hesitantly repeated.
She glared at me.
-"You're not allowed to say that, P. Don't think that me going with you on a small mission makes us any closer. Our relationship is purely professional. I don't want any Amys or other nicknames. I'm your guardian, and you have to respect that, so just call me Amanda. Or miss, if you'd like."
-"Nah, too formal."
Was she serious? What was wrong with that nickname? Besides, I've been calling her Amy in my head for ages now!
-"And you think I haven't noticed?" she asked, raising both her eyebrows at me teasingly. "I'm letting those pass, but there's no way I'm letting you say it out loud."
-"Fine," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
And it wasn't until we were back in the present and going our separate ways that I got what she was doing. Or at least, I hope I did.
While walking back towards my room, I silently thanked her for distracting me and making me feel better. By annoying me again, she had taken my mind off of Bob's investigation. Be it on purpose or not-- although I tend to think it was the latter--, she had helped me avoid drowning in this depressing feeling of not finding any answers.
A muffled "You're welcome" echoed in my head, but I pushed it aside and opened my bedroom door.
Throwing a drained nod at Francesco, I headed towards my bed and lay down on it.
-"So, how was the investigation?" questioned my roommate.
I didn't answer.
-"I see," he observed. "Well, the positive thing in all that is that you're learning quite fast my fabulous Mancini methods, as you so kindly named a few days ago."
-"Very funny," I told him dryly.
-"Oh, come on," he said. "Usually, it's always you who makes all the lame jokes. I'm bad at this, so bear with me."
-"Hmm. You know what? I'll just take a small nap. If the building catches on fire, or if you simply want a buddy to walk on the roof in your underwear with, just wake me up."
The shadow of a smile flickered on his lips.
-"I hope you have bad dreams then, mate."
And on that sweet note, I closed my eyes and drifted off to the fantastic and imaginary land of dreams. And funnily enough, my brain seemed to, even in my sleep, work hard to spite Francesco, because the dreams I had were everything but bad.