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“But you’re so smart. What happened? Didn’t you like school? I wasn’t a fan myself.”
He seemed genuinely curious about me, and I realised we were in serious danger of becoming friends. I needed to pull back; otherwise, he’d learn too much, and then I was certain he’d no longer see me as a stunning creature. Far from it.
“I’m smart when it comes to the practical stuff, but I was never book smart,” I paused, a sharp pain striking my chest. The fact I never truly grappled with my dyslexia was a shame I dealt with privately. “My mother and I moved a lot, too.” I drank the last of my coffee and stood from the counter. “Anyway, I’d better get back to work. You don’t pay me to sit around chatting.”
Something clouded in Mr Cole’s eyes like he sensed my discomfort at the topic. “No, of course. I should get back out to the studio. Perhaps the muse will take pity on me and pay a visit.”
I mustered a smile. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”
The rest of the day passed quietly. I cleaned the house until it was spotless. Mr Cole didn’t emerge from his studio again, and I said a quick goodbye to Noddy before heading for the bus.
On the walk, I checked the food saving app I’d installed on my phone. It allowed me to purchase bags of produce from shops and restaurants that were about to go out of date. I used it because it was a cheap way of buying a treat for myself, but it also meant food wasn’t just being thrown out at the end of the day.
I grinned when I saw my favourite Greek takeaway had a few bags left to be claimed, and I quickly snagged one, a spring in my step. Tonight, I’d cosy up on my couch and watch my favourite TV shows with some gyros and perhaps a slice of baklava if I were lucky.
Again, he was waiting when I arrived at the bus stop. I was struck by the sight of him, the headlamps of cars driving past illuminating his tall frame and handsome profile. His dark hair was short, so it always looked neat, his olive skin highlighting his unusual grey-green eyes. Most evenings, there were a few others who waited at this bus stop also, but today, it was just the two of us. I couldn’t recall if there was ever a time when it was just us before, and my tummy did a somersault. I was alone with him. Our gazes met for a fraction of a second before I glanced away.
Several minutes passed, and I checked my watch. I was certain the bus should’ve arrived by now.
Must’ve been delayed, I thought, blowing out a tired breath.
Turning to glance his way, I found him checking the time on his phone. I wasn’t sure what possessed me when I said to him, “I think it’s been delayed by a few minutes.”
He glanced at me briefly, frowned strangely, then turned away and remained silent.
Just like that, my heart felt like it plopped right out of my chest and splattered onto the damp path.
He acted like I hadn’t even spoken. Embarrassment settled in. Clearly, whatever thing I’d imagined was between us was all in my head. He pretended not to hear me because he wasn’t interested in knowing me.
A brick settled in the pit of my stomach.
The minutes ticked by, and feeling hurt by him ignoring me, I chanced a peek and found him staring into the middle distance as he normally did, his eyes resting on the building across the street. He must’ve sensed my attention because he lifted his head. His eyes ran over me, and I was acutely aware of every place he looked before he turned to stare straight ahead again. Okay, that was weird. I didn’t understand why he’d ignore me, then look at me in such an intense way. It didn’t make sense.
A moment later, I spotted the bus approaching, and I was relieved the embarrassing moment was finally over. I wasn’t going to try to talk to him again; that was for sure. The lights of the bus blinded me for a second as it pulled to a stop in front of us. The doors slid open, and we boarded. He kept a few feet behind me, not getting close as he had yesterday. I felt upset by that, too, worried I’d broken some unspoken rule by talking to him.
Then he went to the seat two rows behind me, just as he always did, and sat.
3.
Maggie
“Something smells good,” Siobhan commented as I walked up to the front door. She and our neighbour, Bob, were sitting outside sharing a cigarette and a cup of tea again, just as they did every day when the weather allowed. If it were raining or too cold, they’d retreat to Bob’s kitchen and have their tea inside instead.
