XXXIV
“Pa? Are you feeling any better now?” Oriana asked her father, who laid awake on the hospital bed. “Any aches or pains anywhere? I could always go get the doctor,” she pushed, watching as her mother replaced the lid back on the rim of the water bottle before adjusting his pillows so he could sit comfortably.
“Ana bear, calm down.” Peter, her father chuckled, “I assure you, I'm perfectly fine. I have no idea why your mother panicked and deemed it necessary to call you all the way down here,” her mother shot him a glare at his words.
“What do you mean by that? She's our daughter, she has every right to know.” Doris, her mother frowned with her arms crossed. Oriana rolled her eyes and sat back in her chair, settling herself for the drama that was sure to spring up between her parents.
“Not what I meant, darling. I was just trying to say that it was just a mild accident. No need to over–exaggerate and make it seem like it was a severe issue,” he mumbled, cowering under her sharp glare as he tried to avoid her gaze by playing with the fraying edges of the bed comforter.
“Mild?! Over–exaggerate?! You think I'm over–exaggerating?!” Doris exclaimed, her cheeks flushing red in anger. “You had gone mountain climbing with your ‘pals’. Mountain climbing, Peter. Don't you realise that you're no longer your young and agile self? Why don't you just admit that you're getting old, ancient dude,” she concluded with narrowed eyes, daring him to counter her words.
Peter's face pulled up in her scowl at his wife's words. Oriana knew how much her father hated being referred to as ‘old’ or ‘ancient’ and her mother had called him both of those adjectives, much to his dismay. Oriana could only fold her arms and cross her legs, making herself much more comfortable for the impending blockbuster movie her parents were acting.
“I am most definitely, not old, Doris. I am still very much my strong and agile young self and our able-bodied kids are a massive proof of that fact,” he smirked and Oriana could almost predict the dirty words that were about to leave her father's mouth as his amber eyes shone with an espiègle glint.
“Besides, you better than anyone, should be able to testify to my strength, considering what had transpired between us few days ago in the bedroom,” he winked at his wife, whose face immediately turned pink in embarrassment as she stood frozen while gaping for a moment.
“Pa!” Oriana exclaimed, trying to block the very uncomfortable imagery her father's words had set free in her head. “Why would you say that in front of me?” Peter chuckled, watching as his wife shuffled around the room, clearly uneasy.
“I need to go get the doctor, Ri. Clearly, something's wrong with your father, seeing how delusional he's being.” Without waiting for her husband's comeback, she immediately scrambled out of the room, leaving Oriana and Peter to laugh at her flushed figure.
“Pa,” Oriana laughed, “why'd you do that? You had to embarrass her, didn't you?” she pouted, taking her mother's side.
“Oh, but she deserved it and you know that, Ana bear,” he stretched out his arm, holding it up for a fist bump. “Now, bump it,” he teased, raising his eyebrows at his daughter's reluctance, “you know you want to.”
“Fine,” she finally conceded, huge grins gracing both their faces as they did their signature fist bump, pulling their hands away with a wiggle and a ‘psssh. . .’.
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“What would you be ordering, ma'am?” the young barista, who appeared to be in her late teens, asked Oriana, successfully drawing her attention away from her phone.
“Uh? Oh, I'm sorry. I would like a frappé, please.” Oriana distractedly fished out the right amount from her purse, sliding it across the counter before making her way to a corner booth with her cold drink in hand.
A persistent frown was etched on her face as she continued staring at her phone, hoping against hope that it would suddenly come to life with her friend's name on the screen.
She had been trying to reach Emerald for two days now but for some reason, her friend's number wasn't going through and although, she had Jordan's contact info, she was holding off calling him; she didn't want to seem like a disturbance or perhaps, a cockblocker to her friend.
‘Heaven knows how soon Emerald needs to get laid,” she thought.
Finally giving into her worries, she decided to instead, send a text to Jordan. Precise and concise. Confirming that her message had been properly relayed, Oriana sipped her cold drink as she finally looked up to take in the serene atmosphere of the quaint restaurant slash café.
Probably due to the windy evening, there weren't many customers present in the restaurant. Other than an old couple, a few singles, two sets of young couples with their kids, three business men fully suited with Oriana, herself, the place was practically empty.
As she continued her silent observation, her eyes suddenly collided with a pair of gray orbs which were staring right at her. Unashamedly, she ran her gaze up and down their owner's face as she saw his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly with his head gently tilted to the side.
Not wanting to seem like a creep who had never seen a handsome man before, Oriana quickly looked away just in time for her phone to beep with a message. Clicking on the notification, she read the short yet soothing text.
A smile filled with relief and mischief graced her lips as a knowing look crossed her countenance at a particular sentence Jordan had sent. ‘She has just been busy,’ he had texted but Oriana's dirty mind had somehow managed to read through the non-existent lines of his words and had pegged the message as ‘We've just been busy.’
A small chuckle escaped her lips as she shook her head at the thought of her best friend doing the deed with a hot chunk of a man like Jordan. She heaved a sigh and slumped into the booth while sipping her drink with a sulk.
‘When will I get my own prince charming?’ she lamented internally.
“Well, look who it is.” A voice called out, successfully pulling Oriana out of her depressing thoughts. With furrowed eyebrows, she looked up at the intruder, or rather, intruders.
Her eyes immediately went wide when she recognized the set of people surrounding her booth like moths around a ball of flame. Her so called, old friends all stood there, watching and gauging her reaction to seeing them with condescending expressions on most of their faces.
“H–hey,” Oriana croaked out, her voice coming out in a stammer. They were the last set of people she ever wanted to see in her entire life and unfortunately for her, she was all alone this time.
A particular someone smirked when he saw her fearful visage as he got in beside her, aggressively pushing her against the end of the booth.
“McStuffins,” he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, purposely squishing her against his side. Oriana cringed. She didn't only hate her middle name because of its origin but also because it held bad memories, all of which led to the guy seated beside her.
“Hi T–thomas,” she shuddered, looking up to meet the murderous glare of another ‘friend’ of hers. “Hi Calla,” she greeted, stretching her lips into a faux smile.
“Hi, Ori. It's been a really long time,” Oriana shifted her gaze to meet the owner of the familiar small and kind voice. Britta. She was the only kind one amidst all three of them. Oriana passed her a small, genuine smile.
“Yeah, McStuffins. It's been a long time. Too long, if you ask me,” Thomas smirked, applying pressure against her shoulders as he watched her wince.
Calla, who was watching the scenario before her, could only glare at the redhead woman being squished by her boyfriend before begrudgingly taking her seat on the other side of the booth. Back then, she didn't know what Thomas had seen in Oriana and although, all he had done was bully her almost to the brink of death, she was still jealous of the undivided attention he gave while bullying her.
But now, everything was different. Oriana was now a successful and independent woman who had managed to land a major job as a journalist in the famous Hyde Newspaper Agency and that's not even the end. She had also gotten more flesh to her bones. The puny high schooler Oriana was a bag of bones compared to this slightly curvy woman seated before her. Calla scowled at the obvious development in her beauty.
“It's been so long since we last saw you and you came to town, yet you couldn't come say hi. You have no idea how hurt I was, McStuffins,” Thomas taunted.
Oriana swallowed, “how did you guys know I was in town?” That was the last thing she wanted. Her plan was to lay low for her two to three weeks visit until her father was well recuperated before returning to New York. But that plan had been completely foiled.
“I don't know if you've noticed but this is a small deadbeat town, McStuffins. Word does get around fast.” Thomas looked into her eyes, daring her to look away.
“No matter how much you wanted to hide your arrival, it couldn't have stayed hidden for long. I'm pretty sure even the newborns of Laramie have caught wind of the successful New Yorker in town,” Calla sneered with contempt evident in her voice as she eyed Oriana's barely calm stance.
“Oh,” that was all Oriana could sputter under the heated gazes of the browbeating couple.
“So Ana, how have you been? How has New York been treatin' ya?” Britta – who couldn't bear the sight of the closest person she had to a friend being bullied by her older brother and his girlfriend – hurriedly stepped in to save the day as she always did back then.
“Well, I've been g–good. New York has been quite hectic but f–fair,” she tried to keep her answer as vague as possible. She couldn't help but think back to Emerald's vague responses to most of her questions. Well, at least she had managed to utilise her friend's bad habit in a good way.
“Good? Just good?!” Britta exclaimed, looking giddy and excited for some reason. “Ana! I literally see you on E-news almost every single time, not to mention the countless articles that have been written in the reputable Hyde Newspapers under your name.” Britta looked really happy for her friend and Oriana appreciated the genuine happiness she radiated but the devil's pawns seated beside and in front of her were like whirlpools ready to suck all positive energy from her, replacing it only with their negative ones.
Calla's face darkened and just in time, Thomas chimed in, “oh don't mind McStuffins. She's just being modest, isn't she?” he taunted as he tightened his one arm around her even more so than before. Oriana was certain her right shoulder would be sporting a bruise by now.
“Ugh, the w-weather's quite windy today, isn't it?” Oriana asked to try to steer the conversation off her life in the New York.
“The weather in Laramie has always been windy, Oriana,” Calla spat.
“I guess?” Oriana tried to steady her erratic breathing as her eyes darted frantically around the quaint shop in hopes of finding a somewhat familiar face. Her small ray of hope was completely shattered when Thomas spoke,
“Looking for a saviour, are we, McStuffins?” he derided. “There's no one here to save you, Mendel. You know. . .” he moved unbearably closer to her, much to Calla's dismay. “. . . I thought that now that you're an adult, you'd be able to stand up for yourself. I thought that now that you're a self dependent New Yorker, you'd finally be able to rid yourself of your infamous ‘ugly and brainless’ title.” he whispered.
“But I guess the all knowing Thomas could be wrong sometimes. Well, look at the bright side, you've earned yourself a new title. Beauty without brains,” he chuckled, blowing his obnoxious breath in her ear before pulling away and standing up.
“Well McStuffins, as much as I'd like to stay and chat, I have somewhere more important to be right now but I decided to use a bit of my most valued time to stop and say hi to my bestie for old times sake,” he passed her a Cheshire grin.
“Oh,” his face lit up with an idea as a mischievous smirk graced his visage, much to Oriana's discomfiture, “how would you like to catch up with us tonight at Reese's bar? I feel like we haven't talked enough. Besides,” he licked his lips as his eyes racked over her form, “you still haven't told me about your love life,” he smirked.
“Tom! What the hell are you doing inviting her over?! It's supposed to be our date night!” Calla snarled, her eyes glaring daggers at Oriana like it was her fault.
“Oh, come on, Calla. We wouldn't want to be rude to our New Yorker now, would we? Britta could come along to keep her company, besides, you and I could always have countless date nights anytime, anywhere,” he winked seductively, causing Calla's cheeks to turn pink as she grumbled dejectedly.
“I'll be seeing you tonight at 8, McStuffins. Don't be late.” Oriana could pick up the underlying threat in his last words as he sauntered out of the restaurant in his faded jacket, jeans and boots outfit.
She didn't seem to be able to drag her eyes off his retreating frame as the horror of the situation finally dawned on her. She had met Thomas, the one behind her grisly past.
Oriana gasped, alongside onlookers in the restaurant, jerking off her seat as a sudden chilly feeling flooded her senses. With wide eyes, she looked up at the perpetrator to see the smug smile hiding the evil look in her eyes.
Calla stood across the table with Oriana's now empty plastic cup in hand. “Oops,” she smiled, “that would teach sluts like you a lesson to never stare at someone else's boyfriend,” she sneered and immediately followed in her boyfriend's footsteps, leaving behind awfully baffled customers, a wet and very embarrassed Oriana and a sad Britta.
With an apologetic look on her face, Britta immediately passed Oriana a napkin in attempts to wipe off her face and clothes. Thankfully, she had chosen to put her auburn hair in a messy bun today.
“I'm so sorry, Ana. I really am. I don't know why Thomas keeps acting like that even after—”
“It's ok, Bri. None of this is your fault anyway,” she cut off Britta's impending rant which was surely headed towards the direction of her past. With a sigh, she looked down at her soiled sweatshirt; because she had been seated when Calla had dumped the drink on her, it had also affected her blue skinny jeans.
She shivered, feeling the coldness of the drink seep through the thin camisole she had worn underneath the sweatshirt and onto her bare skin. In attempts to relieve herself of the nipping cold coupled with the merciless wind of the town, with her index finger and thumb, she held the drenched clothing away from her skin before looking up to find Britta still standing awkwardly with guilt written all over her face. She smiled sadly.
“Bri, there's really no need to worry about me. I guess I needed a shower anyway,” she tried to laugh it off. “You, go ahead. I'm sure they must be waiting for you.”
“But Ana—”
“I'm serious, Bri. I'll be fine. Leave,” she muttered harshly, albeit unintended for her tone to sound that way.
She could hear Britta packing up her stuff, taking one more look at her before moving towards the entrance with her head hung low. Her steps looked reluctant, Oriana noticed. With another sigh, she called out to her, “Bri?” the other woman hurriedly turned around with expectant eyes. “Thank you very much,” Oriana gave her friend a small yet genuine smile despite her situation.
Britta quickly ran towards her and pulled her into a hug, disregarding her soiled sweatshirt. Giving Oriana a peck on the cheek, she muttered, “It was really nice to see you again, Ana. Take good care of yourself and you don't have to come to the bar tonight. I'll take care of those two.”
With her last words, Britta rushed out of the restaurant, leaving Oriana's dejected and dirtied frame behind. Looking at herself and the mess around her, Oriana chuckled humourlessly, loathing herself for being the same coward she used to be in high school. She loathed herself for letting Thomas have such an effect on her even after all these years.
Her amber eyes, empty and void of any emotion looked up to suddenly crash gazes with the same pair of gray eyes, which had been staring at her earlier. She went further to look around the entire restaurant to see the gaze of most of the customers set on her. Some gave her pitiful expressions while some wore sneers on their faces.
She swallowed thickly before her eyes darted back to the stranger's intense gray orbs. Unable to withstand his amain gaze, she hurriedly picked up her wet mobile device and purse before darting out of the restaurant, never looking back at the stranger who also instinctively stood up from his seat to go after her, but unable to because of his pending meeting.
