Made of Glass Chapter 6

Just a short chapter giving you a look at what Edward's and Dolly's relationship is and will be like.

I really was over him. I was going to stop our silly game. I was going to ask Sara to cover his table for now on or maybe Ashley. That would heal some rifts, but I loathed giving her anything she wanted. I really was going to forget all about the bizarre boy. But forgetting Edward was something easier said than done.

He was there the next day. I made him wait fifteen minutes before I went over to his table. I returned to the cold distance manor we had started with.

“Is there anything that I can get for you?” I said not making eye contact. His beautiful face would not sway me. I was a rock.

He surprised me when he rose to his feet and stood directly in front of me.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. There was a . . . family issue . . .” the urgency in his voice surprised me. He really was very sorry. Few people could look you in the eye when they apologized.

But I would not be swayed!

“As you should be. If you don’t want anything,” I moved to walk away but he continued.

“Wait, wait. Let me make it up to you.”

“Make up what? It’s not that big of a deal. You had to go, whatever. But I really do have to work.”

“Oh okay . . . well, I’ll have a uh apple juice.”

This got my attention. I was slightly swayed, but I would return to being a rock after I figured out what that was about.

“Apple juice?”

“I don’t really like beer,” He said shuffling his feet.

I couldn’t help but giggle. “One apple juice."

He took a few steps after me as I went toward the bar.

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

“Oh, okay. I’ll be right here.”

I’d have to see that to believe it. I kept one eye on him while I retrieved his drink halfway expecting him to disappear.

He remained in his seat watching me in turn. Okay so I was swayed. He looked so pitiful and sorry.

I walked over to Monica before heading to his table “Mon, I’m taking my break.”

“Sure thing.”

I returned to him and placed the juice on the table then slid in the other side of the booth. He looked very surprised.

I smiled expectantly at him, and he looked expectantly back at me. But I wasn’t going to give in. He was going to have to make the conversation. Let’s see what this guy was made out of.

“So how’s your day going?” he asked.

Apparently he was made out of the same stuff every single other person in the world was made out of. Boredom.

"That’s none of your business,” I smiled widely back at him. His grin in return was confused but sincere.

“You know what I think?” I asked.

“I really don’t,” he said looking me straight in the eyes.

“I think Edward doesn’t suit you at all.”

“We can't all have grandmother’s with perfect names,” Weird, I hadn’t thought I ever told  him about that.

“Well you can fix the problem.”

“I’m not sure I would describe it as a problem.”

“It is.”

“So what would you suggest?”

“Create a nickname."

“Isn’t it a little late in my life for that?”

“No.”

“So what just ask everyone to start calling me . . . Ed?”

I giggled unforcably at the thought. “Right like after Ed the incredible talking horse.”

"I think I’ll stick with Edward,” despite his serious face I knew he was enjoying this.

“I also like Buttercup for you,” I teased remembering the book he was reading the first time I ruined the ending.

“Ha. Right, try again.”

“What’s your middle name?”

“Anthony.”

“Blick. That’s even worse. How about Ed-die? That’s perfect!”

“I look like an Eddie to you?” he laughed.

“Ummm sometimes,” I said thoughtfully.

“Like when? I’ll be sure to avoid those times.”

“Like when you’re laughing.”

“No more laughing for me then.”

“Too bad. I guess I’ll have to stick with Buttercup then.

“So tell me, Buttercup. Where do you get all these books?”

He stared at me a moment befuddled by my mood swings before responding.

“My dad. He has . . . quite a collection,” he said somewhat reluctant.

“He owns all of those?”

“He likes to read even more than me. Probably not more than you though.”

I just nodded at this.

“And you’re into the classics?” I recalled thinking of all the books he had brought in.

“Well, I wasn’t. In fact I was very into avoiding reading any of them. Strictly modern day stuff for me. But then I stumbled upon one that I really liked and now I’m hooked and working my way through my dad’s collection.”

“What book was it?”

“Bram Stoker’s Dracula,” he said looking very uncomfortable. He didn’t want me to know he was a vampire enthusiast. “I assume you’ve read it?”

"Lucy Westenra becomes a vampire and they kill her,” I said proving my robust knowledge.

“Well I’m glad I read that before I met you,” his eyebrows twitched in irritation.

“I promise I’ll stop,” I said embarrassed. He looked suspiciously at me, not sure if he could take my word for it.  I held out my hand to him. “Truce?”

He stared at it for a moment like it was going to attack him. Then he gently took it and gave it a shake with a serene smile on his face. “Truce.”

He held my hand for slightly longer than an average handshake until I got uncomfortable and removed it from his grasp and stumbled around for another topic.

“So Princess Bride isn’t really a classic . . .” I said picking the one book I had seen him reading that didn’t fit with the rest.

“Yeah, my sister made me watch the movie so I thought I’d read the book too.”

“You have a sister?" I asked interested.

He looked away and mumbled something that could have been an affirmative and then abruptly changed the subject. Perhaps Monica was right. He did have problems with his family. Well I knew how much I hated talking about my family so I wouldn’t push him to do the same.

We talked mainly about books through my entire fifteen minute break. I found myself captivated by his laugh and always looking for ways to make it bubble up again. While at the same time I was laughing because I wanted to. I didn’t have to worry about appearing healthy for an entire fifteen minutes. I could just be myself for a little while and it was wonderful. Plus there weren’t any awkward silences. The conversation flowed out easier with him than with anyone else I had ever talked to. It was so comfortable.

Part of it was because I understood everything he was saying. I understood him better than I had ever understood anyone in my entire life. Maybe it was that his eyes were so expressive or the way his eyebrows twitched with each new emotion. Whatever it was I could just tell what he was thinking. I hoped my eyes didn’t expose my thoughts in the same way. I hoped he saw the cheerful normal teenage girl I was trying to put off instead of the endless wells of hurt in my big blue abysses.

When my break was up and I finally had to leave I got up reluctantly.

“Well it was a pleasure, Eddie,” I said playfully.

“The pleasures all mine,” he said formally while rising as I stood. It reminded me of an earlier century.

I took one last puzzled look at his face and skipped off back to work.

Reviews

[Summer]

Aw! That was cute. I loved it. (as per usual)