Dammit Dan, You Stole My Hart

Chapter 5

Eleanor - 28/05/16, Saturday

Just before we parted ways the evening before, we'd agreed to meet up somewhere to discuss our project over some coffee. In all honesty, I wasn't looking forward to it.

I woke up to the smell of scrambled eggs and bacon - the traditional Saturday Hart breakfast. still groggy and half-awake, I stumbled my way down the stairs after brushing my teeth and washing my face. the second I stepped into the dining room a bright flash blinded me.

"What the hell?" I hissed, covering my eyes.

"It's 'who' the hell, not 'what' the hell," a familiar voice corrected.

My eyes snapped open and I growled. "More like why the hell are you here?"

Daniel laughed and leaned back on his chair, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in front of him. He scribbled something onto a post-it note. "'Someone's not a morning person'," he read out, smirking.

Eventually my mom walked in, eggs and bacon on three plates, to the sight of me trying to strangle the lanky boy with my bare hands. "Eleanor," she scolded. "Be nice. He's been waiting for you in front of our house since seven o'clock, so I invited him in." I glanced at the clock - now, it was nine thirty.

Trying not to let anything show on my face, I lifted my hands off his chest and sat down. "oh," I mumbled. he was still smirking and I wanted to smack him, but glanced at the clock again. My conscience wouldn't let me do it. two and a half hours, plus he had to take public transport here. god, i can't even shout at him now, can i?

So I was forced to eat breakfast with the smirking jerk, whose grin was grease-stained by the time we were done. after a quick farewell, I found myself being dragged out the door by him, till we reached a small cafe nearby - classic setup, with the counter and the round tables and people reading the news on their tablets and laptops.

He sat me down at a table in the corner, told me to stay put like i was his dog or something, and went off to buy coffee. when he came back, he passed me a straight black, while his was a mocha latte. i took the proffered cup, sipped a little, almost smiled at the bitterness on my tongue. then i froze, staring down into the dark depths of the coffee. "You know my favourite kind?" A smirk crossed his lips. "And you know where I live."

"Of course," he answered, ripping open a packet of brown sugar. "What information broker wouldn't. it's my job to know."

"You don't have a job," I shot back. "Bet you were spying on me in my sleep or something."

He shrugged. "Who knows? I could've been in your room all the while. I have to agree, your dad's old varsity t-shirt looks like great sleepwear." I blinked and felt my face twist into a snarl, even as a hot flush built up from my neck. there was the urge to just pour all the scalding coffee over him and leave, but the coffee was too good [he'd paid for it for me too] and it was in the morning, I needed the caffeine, not to mention the fact that we still had that bloody project to finish and why the hell was i paired up with him in the first place? someone up there is laughing at my pain, i swear.

Daniel's raucous laughter snapped me out of my griping. "Don't worry. Your mom just told me about it." My knuckles turned white on the table. she's gonna hear it from me when i get back. "I don't see the fun in watching people sleep. Walking down the street, yes, playing a video game, yes, interact with their family, yes. Drinking coffee..." he trailed off, studying me, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Yes."

i tried to rein in the desire to slap the grin off his face. it seemed that whenever i was around him i got more and more violent. with others i was just that quiet girl that tried not to be noticed, fading into the shadows, uncomfortable in public, in crowded places, in school, at home, everywhere. sitting here in this cafe across from his irritating grin, i found that i didn't care if he made me so mad i'd stand up and yell at him in the middle of the cafe. everyone would turn and stare at me and i didn't think i'd even care. i still want to kill him.

studying my face, he ripped open another pack of brown sugar, pouring all of it into his coffee - the third packet. "That's a lot of sugar in a latte. it's going to be really sweet," i warned him.

he smiled. stirring the liquid and watching the granules dissolve. "I like it that way."

i sighed. "Why are we here?"

"to do the project of course," he answered nonchalantly.

"Without any paper, or even a laptop? how are we going to record notes?"

"Who says we need to? You just have to remember what we did." He grinned. "Now, let's play a game. it'll be more fun, and easier to learn about each other," he persuaded at my skeptical look. "If you have the smarts to see things about me, that is," he added, riling me up.

"What?"

"Truth or dare." He waved his hands about with a flourish, like it was some innovative new idea he thought up. "Come on," he wheedled. "Look, you can ask first."

i fixed him with a stare, and his childish expression didn't waver. Realising that he actually was serious about this, i said, "Fine. Okay. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he said. there was a smug undertone in his voice that i didn't like.

"Mhm," i mumbled. it had to be something hard enough that he'd have trouble with it, and get away from me for a period of time. and embarrassing enough that i could laugh about it later. i tilted my head in the direction of a lady with a laptop. "Ask her for her underwear."

"Oooh, devious, aren't we? Coming right off the bat with something crazy." He gave me a confident smile, and stood, walking over to the woman casually, hands in his pockets. an outraged cry and a loud smack five minutes later signalled his return. Daniel slouched back into his chair, leaning back and fully displaying the red hand mark on his cheek. "What?' he asked at my raised eyebrow. "You didn't ask me to come back with her panties." He grinned deviously. "Now, my turn. Truth or dare?"

I tensed. He's childish. Oh no, petty revenge? I had to come to a decision quickly - his mocking smile was widening with every second that passed. "Dare." He wouldn't find anything from me if i could help it.

Daniel rubbed his hands together, glancing out the cafe window. "I want you to evaluate that woman over there." He pointed to a blonde lady in a red dress and high heels, pacing outside the cafe.

"What?" I frowned, confused.

"Do what I do," he said. "Tell me what she's doing, thinking and feeling."

"Uh..." I cleared my throat. The lady walked back and forth in front of the cafe, glancing at the entrance every time she passed. She was biting her lip, eyebrows furrowed, with a handbag hanging on her shoulder. "She's waiting for someone?"

To my surprise, Daniel didn't laugh. am i correct? He shook his head. "Decent enough for a normal person, I guess. Nope, she's not waiting for anyone. In fact, someone's waiting for her." He leaned closer and jerked his chin towards a guy sitting to our right, alone at the table. His fingers tapped impatiently on the table as he checked his phone. Even from here, I could see his home screen background was a picture of a woman with blonde hair. Daniel pointed back at the woman. "See how her fingers keep going to her ring finger? She's twisting a ring, therefore she's married. Oscillation on the pavement usually means relationship problems - marriage conflict maybe." As we watched her, the lady took a deep breath, put a smile on her face, and slipped the wedding ring off her finger, tucking it into her bag and entering the cafe. "Ohh, we've struck gold here," Daniel told her. "An affair, how beautiful."

I stared at him, and he looked at me quizzically. "Well," he said, his face clearing. "It's easy, if you think about it hard enough, and you observe what's around you. It's all about seeing underneath the underneath."

Sighing, I shook my head at the reference. "At least you don't carry an orange pervert book with you everywhere."

"Oh." He grinned. "I don't have to. It's all up here." He reached up and tapped his temple.