Jigsaw (NaNoWriMo13)

Twelve

Never trust a hobo.

That's what I tell myself as I wipe coffee from my eyebrows. He asked me for money, so I paused in my daydream to hand him some change. How was I supposed to know he'd flinch away from me and fling a full rubbish bag at me?

My hair smells like pizza.

Evan is still smirking, and Tanya is full on laughing. I suppose it is funny. I mean, I'd laugh if Tanya or Evan came in covered in all manner of disgusting fluids. I narrow my eyes in a glare at Tanya, who is now clutching at Evan for support. Her eyes find mine and she throws me a sly little smirk. I have the sudden urge to head butt her.

No, Lily. Violence is bad.

But seeing her holding onto Evan, all while her cold eyes are on me is driving me mad. I have to clench my hands into fists to stop myself from doing something I'll later regret. Instead, I toss my hair and proceed with my day as usual. As the day wears on, it is clear that Tanya is out to get me.

She has been eyeing me shrewdly, her eyes never leaving my back. I would be lying if say I don't feel disconcerted by her increasingly erratic behaviour. She says nothing, does nothing. Just stares, cold eyes never leaving me, not even for a minute. She even refills the coffee machine, with her eyes fixed completely on me. I chance a glance at Evan, and he is none the wiser. He sees me looking, and his eyes meet mine for a second before flitting away and focusing on restocking the sugar station.

Hmm. That was weird.

Though I should have seen it coming really. I should have known that as soon as that date ended in disaster, as soon as I opened myself up to Evan that little bit more, that he would go running for the hills. It doesn't stop it from hurting any less though. I watch him, shoulders hunched, hair flat against his head and I feel a new emotion. Concern.

What is up with him? I've noticed a pattern with Evan. On most days, he is cheerful and kind. But then, on other days, he will be quiet and moody. He tends to snap on those days as well. Swallowing my apprehension at having my head bitten off, I slowly approach him.

“Evan?” I say, swallowing some spit to moisten my dry throat.

“What?!” he sounds annoyed as he turns to face me, and his face is crumpled into some strange sense of disapproval.

There is something in Evans eyes that tells me not to talk to him, to approach the subject.

“I, er, it doesn't matter.” I turn away, hurt.

“Well... Okay then?” Evan says it more as a question and doesn't say anymore as I go back to cleaning the tables.

I'd been so sure that as soon as I turned away, that Evan would pull me back to him and apologise. Or at least said something. But he just sighs and walks into the back room, slamming the door behind him. I swallow, feeling thoroughly shaken and offer the few surprised looking customers a shaky smile.

“What did you do? Or maybe Evan's just realised what a basket case you actually are?”

I roll my eyes and start gathering up the cups and saucers, resolutely ignoring Tanya. “Giving me the silent treatment I see? Well let's try this for a game of cards. How does it feel to be so unlovable that your own parents committed suicide?”

I feel the vague buzzing of a room full of angry wasps as Tanya's words sink in. My hands are shaking so fiercely that the crockery rattles loudly on the tray. A hush has fallen over the cafe as its few occupants stare at Tanya and I. Each locked in a contest of wills.

But as I look at her. The smug smile on her face, the eyebrows raised with the “SO WHAT?” attitude, and even the way she stands with her hands on her hips, my anger suddenly swells. I don't remember dropping the tray, but cups, saucers and utensils shatter as they make contact with the floor. I barely wince as I dive forwards and slap Tanya full on around the face.