The Fourth Side of the Triangle

Chapter 2.

2.

“Oh. My God.”

“Hello James,” Amy says with a sigh as the door to the tiny cafe slams shut behind her friend, leaving the bell to tinker into silence behind him. James simply strides straight into the shop, ignoring the raised eyebrows that the very few customers give him as he collapses into the chair beside Amy.

His blonde hair has been slightly tousled by the wind outside, his cheeks flushed red with cold. He is looking vaguely slightly wide eyed and demonic, but neither Amy nor Becca say anything as they stare at the intruder.

“You eating those?” he asks, gesturing towards the pastries lying neglected on the old wooden table in front of them.

“We-” Becca starts, but James has already reached forward to grab one and has proceeded to take a colossal bite out of it. He lets out an entirely improper moan of appreciation as the flavour bursts over his tongue and he leans back further into the chair, even going as far as to propping his feet up on the rickety table.

“James!” Amy exclaims incredulously, staring at her friend and shoving his feet viciously from the table top, “what could have possibly happened to make you come in here and act like a complete twat?!”

James sits up, giving his friend a mock glare, despite the fact that the one that Amy continues to shoot in his direction is nothing short of 100% genuine.

“I am not acting like a twat,” he says shortly, showering crumbs everywhere. Amy just stares at him in disbelief as James swears and wriggles out of his worn leather jacket and pale grey zip up hoody, trying to dislodge any pastry that has fallen down the front of it.

“Good day then?” Becca asks him warily, as he brushes his fringe out of his eyes.

“Absolutely terrible,” the blonde replies matter-of-factly, “absolutely bloody terrible. Well, the meeting itself was okay, some of the stuff I’m gonna have to do sounds pretty amazing, but my co-star has to be the biggest knob in the whole of creation.”

“I’m sure he can’t be that bad,” Amy tells him, reaching over and plucking the last of the apple danish from his hand before he can shove it into his mouth.

“He’s terrible,” James insists shooting Amy a dirty look as she smirks at him, popping the rest of the pastry into her own mouth.

“As in… terrible at acting?” Becca asks.

“No, no. Well, I wouldn’t know, I haven’t really seen him do anything yet. But he’s just…. argh!!” James throws his hands up in frustration.

“What?” Amy asks, completely confused, “What’s actually wrong with him?”

James appears to be consulting the ceiling for a couple of seconds before he says carefully,

“He’s just so… so… nice.”

“Nice.” Amy and Becca repeat in unison, voices staying on one pitch with each utterance, “You don’t like your new co-star, because he is… nice.”

James holds up his hands.

“He is such a goody- goody! You can tell that everybody worships the ground he walks on and I can’t actually understand a word he’s saying!”

“Why?” Amy asks, taking up James’s hand in her own and giving it a quick squeeze.

“He has a weird accent. I’m not being horrible,” he says hurriedly, catching the look on his friends face, “I’m serious. It’s like a mix between Irish and Scottish, with perhaps a tiny bit of Welsh chucked in for good measure. It’s mental. He’s just… I can tell, that everyone’s gonna be fawning over him, and nobody’s gonna give me a second glance.”