Pick Up The Pieces

The First Time I Truly Believed

The First Time I Truly Believed

I've never been a huge fan of malls.

Cas texted me this morning and asked me to meet him at University Village, which is in Seattle. Lakeside is about twenty minutes outside the city, so I leave early enough to get Ximena over to her friend's and still make it on time, and I dreaded it the entire drive here.

They're big, public places with a lot of people, and I was never drawn to that kind of atmosphere. Taking that into consideration with the fact that I lived in New York City, the contradiction is a little funny. I don't remember ever having a problem with it when I lived there, but lately even the idea of it is a little nerve-wracking.

Needless to say, most malls consist of people rushing around and loud noises. Sometimes even music layered on top of that.

Yeah, I'll never be a huge fan of malls.

Staring up at the entrance, I roll my eyes at myself and head inside, pulling my old jacket on because it's always freezing in here. Air conditioning. It's getting increasingly hot outside these days, and I hate it.

There are so many people here. Young children going into Claire's to buy their first set of makeup, slightly older kids going into Apple to get their first phone, families sitting down for lunch. Different people with different lives. Maybe the best day of his life, but the worst day of hers. You never know what someone is going through when you walk past them.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I startle, cursing under my breath. I answer it without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Cas says. "Are you here yet?"

At the sound of his voice, I stumble and for a few seconds I almost forget to be scared.

"Yeah," I say, rubbing my hand on the back of my neck. "Um, passing the bookstore. I'll be there soon."

"Do you want me to wait for you?" he asks, and I can hear soft music playing in the background. Probably from the restaurant.

The yes, please almost slips out without my permission, but I cough to cover it.

"No, I don't want to make you wait," I say, because he doesn't need to. I'm a fairly independent person. I'm capable of taking care of myself just fine, and I can walk into a restaurant by myself.

"Don't worry about it, you're almost here anyway," he says, reading right through me. We're not even in each other's presence yet and he's already doing the mind reading thing. "I'll wait."

Something melts inside of my chest.

"Thanks, Cas."

I hang up and walk a little bit faster, pocketing my phone.

When I turn the corner, he's standing in front of the restaurant, holding his coat in one hand and phone in the other, glaring at it intently, his lips twisted just slightly enough for me to notice it. A soft smile covers my face without my permission.

Walking up to him, he looks up and smiles at me, and it isn't awkward. It's us, again.

"Hey," he says, his eyes going soft. We stand there, two feet from each other. It's a carefully measured distance that I did my best to maintain in public that he eventually got used to.

Why did I stay so far from you?

I smile back at him, and he leads the way into the restaurant in silence. We're tucked back in a corner, in a booth, because the seats are more comfortable, Adrian.