Destined

Day Forty-One

My day starts out pissy with me waking up at six o'clock panting, my underwear moist from the erotic dream that has haunted me for the past twelve days and my body aching for Godric's touch. Seven o'clock, I'm up and dressed for work at Sound Bites only to find Javi and Tristan in the middle of a lover's spat dead in the center of the stores, and then, being the good friends they are, they both try to get me in the middle of it and bond over their anger with me. Joey's ex-girlfriend wanders into the store just before I go to grab lunch and takes her anger out about Joey's inability to keep it in his pants out on me before knocking over a while display that I spend my whole lunch hour picking up. 

By the time I wrap up my shift at Sound Bites, I am beyond cranky. It has less to do with the horrible day and more with the ridiculously depressing past twelve. After Godric split after dropping fang on me, he made quick work of avoiding me; we didn't hang out, we didn't sit on the roof of the hotel and talk, and we barely even said hello when he saw me passing by the hallway. I learned from Janice that he checked out of Hotel Camilla and that's why I didn't see him at all, which made me understand his and Tristan's anger at not telling them about my cancer. What made it worse was that he knew how upset I was and didn't even bother to make an effort to move past that kiss and just let us go back to being friends. I wouldn't be glad forgetting and moving past it, going back to the way things were, and just the thought of him never touching me again sent a pang of longing through me that nearly took me off my feet, but I miss him. I'm willing go back just so I can talk to him and be around him even a little...even if it's not the way I'd like. 

Pissed, frustrated, and agitated, I wander down the street to McDonalds deciding to fuck eating a semi-healthy dinner (I totally think pizza counts wheat, fruit, diary, fas/oils, and vegetable if basil counts) so that I can treat myself to a mocha frappe to comfort myself. I drown myself in Asking Alexandria and Pierce the Veil songs while I eat my chicken nuggets and french fries before heading out after buying a second frappe, because I freaking deserve it. With a tired sigh, I walk down the road towards the Hotel Camilla, my hand wrapped around Godric's necklace the way it always seems to be now that I don't see him. It's all I really have left of him, and I swallow back a sob as I continue down the street, absolutely refusing to cry over an ancient sixteen-year-old boy who doesn't seem to give a crap about me or how I'm feeling. 

The purr of an expensive car comes from behind me, and I glance behind me to see a Jag slowly down and pulling to the side of the road behind me. I begin walking faster, on the verge of breaking into a run, heart pounding when the cars pulls up beside me. Too many hours watching Criminal Minds reruns the past twelve days (since I had nothing better to do after Godric's abandonment) has clearly made me paranoid, and I freeze, eyes looking around to the quickest escape when Garrett pokes his head out the passenger window. He studies me hesitantly, and I resist the urge to groan, now is not the time to piss me off, I've got enough frustration and repressed anger that it won't take much more to make it explode. 

"Hey, Lanie," Garrett finally says hesitantly.  

My eyes narrow on the thirteen year old suspiciously, "Hey, Garrett?" 

Garrett looks uncomfortable but clears his throat, "You need a ride to the hotel?" He glances back at the person in the driver's seat that I can't see. 

"Who's in the car, Garrett?" I ask him this through gritted teeth. My heart pounding wildly while my hand clenches around Godric's necklace tightly. No, no, no, no, no. It can't be him. 

The person in the driver's seat peers around a very guilty Garrett to look me in the eyes, and my stomach drops while sadness pierces my heart, choking it. I fight to keep my face impassive and control my breathing. He's older and far more austere and refined than I remember, but there's no doubt that the face is the older face of Garrett. My absentee, deadbeat, politician father who scammed on my family in my dance studio with one of my dance teachers and then abandoned us for her. I swallow back bile, as one hand presses to my stomach as if that'll stop the pain and betrayal welling inside it. Everything I've ever felt in my life, all the times I felt used and alone and abandoned and neglected all flood back to me, and he might not have been the direct cause but everything that had happened to me stemmed from his decision to abandon us. I suddenly feel like a little girl again. It's amazing how one look at the man who gave me half of my DNA and then fucked me over can make me feel like that five year old who'd chased him as he'd left the house with a suitcase in hand, my hair flying wildly while tears poured down my face. I'd tripped but continued to grab for his leg anyway, and he'd picked me up, smiled at me gently, brushing my hair back from my face and kissing me gently on the forehead.