ARIEL
As we finish up eating, our conversation keeps flowing easily. No awkward pauses.
"Why did you skip grades?" He asks.
"Because the school asked my parents. I skipped the 3rd and the 7th grade." I tell him with a shrug.
"Sounds like an accomplishment, but your tone is melancholic." He raises a curious eyebrow.
"Being slightly smarter isn't everything it's made out to be. They bumped me up because I was testing above my grade level. Being replaced mid school year isn't exactly what makes other kids treat you normally." I try not to ramble.
His face morphs to curiosity, eyes asking me to elaborate.
"12 year olds aren't a hospitable bunch. And they don't like when teachers or adults say that someone is smarter than them. Every adult in my life loved my introverted, brainy tendencies. And it's what made my classmates hate me enough to pick on me and isolate me." I shrug.
I dare to look back up at him, expecting to see annoyance at my complaining of something that happened over a decade ago. But his eyes are soft, expression more forgiving then ever.
"Im sorry, I'm being weird. That back in middle school." I laugh it off. His large, warm hand engulfs mine again, mine is unnaturally cold.
"I'm sorry." he affirms. I slump, the familiar burn of tears stings the back of my eyes. How embarrassing. My cheeks feel warm.
"It's fine. I got used to it." I shrug. "Even in college I was the weird one."
"How were you weird?" he asks, his large thumb strokes the back of my hand in a soothing way.
"Because I preferred to be alone, I didn't like partying or drinking. I'd much rather read or play with a cat I found around campus. I'm allergic to cats though so that was a poor decision on my end. Anyway, soon people stopped offering to hang out since I said no so much. I didn't hate it." I shrug. "Im sorry Im rambling, you tell me something about yourself." I quickly switch subjects.
He doesn't question my sudden re-steering of the conversation.
"Nothing to tell. I am not as interesting as you are, not a genius." He smirks. I laugh.
"Didn't you graduate with 4 masters degrees Mr. Moretti? Modesty is not what I pegged you for." I tease.
"So you kept tabs on me." he smirks that same self satisfied smirk. I roll my eyes.
"No, everyone would talk about you. They were obsessed with the hot mysterious senior." I laugh when he grimaces.
"That-"
"Ariel?" I hear a high-pitched voice. I turn to the woman, who looks to be around my age. She looks familiar but I have no idea who she is. I glance at Griffin who seems uninterested, but his grip on my hand slightly tightens protectively.
"Hi. I'm sorry, I am having the hardest time placing you." I smile apologetically.
"Nessa Garrett, Princeton? We graduated together." She reminds, her tone peppy.
It clicks. Vanessa Garrett. Our batches gossip monger. She knew everything about everyone, and talked to everyone who was anyone. Her social battery made mine look like a well used safety blanket.
"Vanessa! Ofcourse, Im so sorry I didn't recognize you." I nervously laugh.
"Don't worry about it, Im great with faces, it's not you." She smiles.
"How are you?" I quickly ask. She smiles.
"I am great! Im in Italy for vacation. This is such a pleasant surprise. I love knowing what people got into after college." her eyes sparkle in curiosity. She glances at Griffin. "But I suppose this isn't that surprising." She giggles like a child being naughty would, gesturing between him and me.
I frown in confusion.
"What do you mean?" I ask.
She glances at mine and Griffin's hands, still in eachothers, on the table.
"Well everyone in college knew you guys would end up together." She says. My confusion only deepens.
"What? Why? We were never friends." I look at him questioningly, but his mask of indifference is tightly intact.
"Yeah but, you know." She hints. She must have read my confusion because she continues. "Well he used to tell guys at school to stay away from you. And well he was- is a scary looking guy." That knocks me in the gut with shock. What?
Griffin's cool but deadly eyes look at her, and her happy smile falls.
"Uh, it was great seeing you, bye." She runs off, out of the diner leaving me to direct my surprise at large man sitting infront of me.
"You used to tell people to stay away from me?" I ask.
"I did not used to do anything. I only did it once. It is not my fault they adhered to it till you graduated." He says, as if it was the most normal things.
"Why? We didn't even know eachother." I ask, as my heart pounds in strange exhilaration.
"I did it when we met, the first time in the frat. You looked uncomfortable as is, and I saw three men come up to you in the span of 5 minutes minutes. You rejected every single one." He looks at me. "You looked like you were almost scared of them. That pissed me off."
My eyes sting again, the feeling of being seen, being protected without knowing it, with no expectation of reciprocation made my chest feel full and my heart pound.
"You are the sweetest." I whisper. His eyes darken.
"I am anything but sweet, micetta." He says back. But I am beyond caring what he says. He acts all tough and dangerous. Maybe he is, but not to me. I could never be scared of him.
"You're sweet to me." I offer. He doesn't argue with that, and it makes me smile.
Soon, he asks for our check as I slurp the last of my milkshake. When it's finished, I glance at his still full glass, the whipped cream looks sad and droopy. I hadn't tried to make him try it again after the first time.
I ate the cherry on it though.
"You aren't even going to try the milkshake?" I pout. He looks at me.
"I will not like it, hence there is no reason to try it." He gruffs.
"But how will you know if you never try it?" I ask. "Try a single sip." I urge.
"No." he says.
"Comeon." I whine. "Please?" His eyes darken as he stares at me. I almost have him, I can feel it.
