Hide & Seek | Roman Godfrey • Hemlock Grove

02; Familiar Faces

It isn't as easy as she'd hoped, but adjusting to being back in Hemlock Grove wasn't as difficult as she'd expected.

It takes a few days, but eventually, she finds herself work at the local equivalent of Starbucks. It's a little cliche for a summer job, but it gives her a little pocket money nonetheless and keeps her from going stir crazy in her mother's house.

A week passes and she's acclimating fairly well, serving the residents of the sleepy town their daily dose of caffeine. She even manages to avoid seeing his face on the news again, which means she hasn't had to ponder his existence much since her first night back.

It's a little difficult with the Godfrey name plastered on nearly everything in the town, but she manages to keep him out of her thoughts for the most part. After a while, it almost begins to feel as though he never existed in the first place.

That doesn't last long, however.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologizes to Mrs. Apostolou, the smiling Greek woman who manages the coffee shop. She ties her red hair back and flings on an apron before jumping headlong into the morning rush that she nearly missed in misplacing her car keys.

Orders are coming in and going out quickly without her giving much thought to the names she reads on the cups, penned in loopy cursive handwriting, until one gives her pause - Godfrey, double shot.

A lump forms in her throat; there's no use in pretending it could even possibly be some sort of cosmic coincidence, and so she doesn't try.

Instead, she swallows hard and prepares herself to see exactly the face she knows she will when she reads out his name.

Lo and behold, the same familiar face that had taunted her weeks ago on the television set is standing there, in person. He's gotten taller since last she saw him, possibly more refined and even better dressed, even.

"That will be four fifty-three."

He still looks right through people, she notes as he nods and opens an expensive looking billfold, producing a black credit card inscribed with the same name that might as well be everywhere at this point.

"You're new," he remarks casually, picking a nonexistent piece of lint from the sleeve of his suit jacket.

She's not sure what she expected, but it strikes her as foolish that her heart sinks even further when there's not even the barest hint of recognition in his eyes. He has absolutely no idea who she is and what's worse, she finds herself brought down by that fact.

There's been a hundred, probably a thousand girls just like you, she mentally scolds herself. What did you think

"That's what the tag says," she agrees, pointing to the silver badge that reads in all capital letters 'BE PATIENT, I'M LEARNING!' beneath her name.

"I don't think I've seen you around town before, either," he toys with a toothpick perched between his lips as he continues the conversation she's less than eager to keep up, every word he says making her blood boil.

She wants to say something hateful and sarcastic, to ask him if he's personally met everyone in Hemlock, though she realizes that he probably has met most of them. She bites her tongue and says none of the things that are going through her head for the sake of her dignity and her job, nodding instead.

"I haven't been here that long," she obliges him with a half truthful response, handing him back his card and his coffee. He doesn't seem to care that there's a line of people behind him and Fawn is anything but surprised by that attitude.

"Hm. Need a guided tour of the sights?" he asks with a smirk. It's all Fawn can do not to punch him across the counter for using that same stupid, alluring smile that had gotten under her skin years ago. Some things never change, she supposes.

She stares at him with an open mouth, probably giving him the impression that she's just that flattered by his request, when in reality, she's pondering the absurdity of it all.

Option A is the least viable of all her choices; in this scenario, she throws the punch she's trying to hold back and reminds them of exactly how they met before, making herself Hemlock Grove's newest unemployed nutjob.

Option B is probably her best bet, a plan where she declines politely but firmly and they both return to the regularly scheduled programming of their separate lives.

In the end, those choices are of little meaning, because she knows already she's going to stick with Secret Option C, without a doubt.

She's been waiting years for some sort of resolution, practicing what she would say and thinking about what she would do over and over again the entire time.

Only in bad romantic comedies or Dawson's Creek ripoffs do people get the chance to settle things with the boy who broke their heart in high school after they've surpassed their teenage awkwardness and bloomed into a relatively beautiful young woman.

And so she said the only sensible thing she could say in such a moment, putting on a falsely chipper smile for his benefit:

"I'm off at six."