Bittersweet Moments

10 | Mango Croissants

10 | Mango Croissants

Dreaming that I was being chased by mango croissants wasn't exactly the ideal thing to wake up from.

I had only decided that it was a hint from the universe that I should go back to the Dales' bright and early to make up for my mistake yesterday, assuming I wasn't already fired. That led me to spend only three minutes in the shower (belting out only one song over the raging water), putting on decent clothes in a rush (almost had my shirt inside out there) and taking soft steps to the kitchen to grab a bite and at the same time not to wake Mom up (she was watching last night, while I ate as I sobbed). After finishing up last night's leftovers and throwing the dishes at the sink, I went out to the blue chilly city.

It was dawn. So early. This might be a mistake. Instead of lacking food, I could be sleep-deprived instead. I was surprised I wasn't nodding off.

Last night was absolute torture. Mom did cook me up a humongous dinner which was all ready on the table after I broke down on the floor, curling up in fetal position and rolling all over. However, most of the food was drenched in tears before it could even touch my lips. Nonetheless, I ate to my heart's and stomach's content. Mom was there to both sermon and to cheer me on.

That wasn't over though. After eating, I had dragged my poor body upstairs and sat myself in front of my desk. My homework was far from done and so that added up to hours of crying, staring aimlessly at the papers, notebooks and screens and having every answer a shot in the dark. Then, I slept and dreamt about a certain French delicacy running after me all around the Dales' mansion.

I had caught the early bus and I had stared hopelessly at the front of the Dales' house gates, rethinking my decision over and over again. It was then that I had realized how ridiculous this idea was. Who was even awake at this time of the morning to let me inside? How could I even get in? I would look like a lost little girl if I waited just outside the house, hoping for someone to open the gates. A pathetic lost little girl who had packs and packs of chocolate bars and soda cans inside her backpack.

Anyway, I had lacked time to overanalyze and be anxious about going to work this early because the gates had creaked open, giving me a way to step inside. I didn't know if I should be relieved or scared. This meant one of them – or more – was already up and I crossed my fingers behind my back, wishing it was Brennan Dale. He was probably still wondering what had happened to me last night.

As usual, wish not granted.

Jackson stood watching, leaning against the side of the door with his arms crossed. It almost took me aback to see him already freshly bathed, wearing the slacks of his uniform but a white shirt for his top. Was this his daily routine? Or did he have secret mind powers that predicted I was coming?

As soon as I realized I was staring, I averted my eyes and continued my way inside. He closed the door behind us and followed closely. The words he said yesterday circled and echoed in my head. I decided to keep my mouth shut and my presence away from him for the meantime, because one wrong move from him or me, chaos was going to peek from the depths of hell. Ignore, ignore, ignore, Ollie, I told myself, like you always do. That mantra certainly didn't help when I glanced at him through my peripherals to see him wearing an unreadable mask.

What are you onto now, Jackson?

Neither of us said a word when we arrived in the kitchen. Instead of hurrying up the stairs and disappearing from my sight, he stayed in the kitchen. Jackson hopped on a stool and looked down at the notebooks and papers piled in front of him. He took a pen and started writing away. Meanwhile, I stood there with a dumbfounded expression, still clutching onto my bag. Two thoughts ran in my mind.