Tuesday March 31, 2009
Who: Sim and Garret What: Meetings and cookies Where: Around the grounds When: Noonish
Sim was nervous. Like near shaking nervous. She was going to meet Garret Foss for the first time today and it was exciting and scary. She'd made up a story about having to make cookies for a friend and she had some left overs and he looked like he might like some. In truth, she tried to make cookies the American way and half of them burnt. These were the okay ones. Not underdone and not too brown. After a nervous eating, there was about five left out of the two dozen she tried to bake. At least there were some left.
Going to the first floor, wrapped up in the new coat she'd bought along with the groceries, she closed her eyes and went to find Garret. It took a few moments before she could get anything more than the campus, but it seemed he was on his rounds and was coming around the school buildings. If she hurried she could make it to when he started the back of the school and she could 'bump' into him. Off she went, thankful to have a container instead of paper plate and plastic wrap. She had neither and had seen on TV how it did not work very well. Huffing, she managed to get to the doors a minute before Garret. Calming herself and catching her breath, she started out the door and walked towards him, trying to look like she was on a mission.
The whole point was to act smooth, but the moment she stopped right before he was going to pass by, she lost all coolness. "Uh. . . Excuse me," she said as she went to stand in front of him. "These are for you," Sim said as she stuck out the container of lemon sugar cookies. This was not the plan, but by God she'd swing it some how.
Rounds. Rounds were good, in a way, because it gave Garret an excuse to walk around and see people and be sociable and flirt with cuties as he passed. It was a drag, though, because mostly people were in class or they were busy so his rounds were mostly spent doing his "job". Which was sooooo boring.
But some days, cute girls surprised him with food. Sometimes it was Cassie with stolen goods, sometimes it was strange women with cheesecake. Today it was a young, pretty little artsy kind of girl holding out a container for him. He had no idea who this girl was, he had never seen her before except maybe in passing. She had a vague familiarity to her, probably because he'd seen her file when she had been admitted to the school.
Pausing as his way was blocked, his hands filled with his phone (he was second away from texting Declan with something naughty), Garret looked up in surprise at Cutie Boheme. "Oh," he said in surprise, eyebrows raised. Slowly, a smile spread over his lips, and he took the outstretched container. "Cool." Garret was never one to turn away baked goods, especially not from girls. Opening it up, he looked inside, then laughed a bit. "Cookies. All right. So why are these mine?" He grabbed one and took a bite, pleasantly surprised by the lemonyness of it. "Mm."
He liked them! Unable to help, but smile when she saw he was enjoying the cookies, she almost forgot to answer his question. "Oh," she said, blinking a moment. "I uh. . . My friend had a birthday today and I made her cookies. These were left over and you looked like maybe cookies would be good. . . for you. . ." Okay that was a bit of a stretch, even for her, but she was still learning to wing it.
"Do they taste to your liking?" She asked, almost in an eagerly way. It seemed almost like she really wanted him to like the cookies. Because they were made for a friend, not him, so why would he care if they were good or not. Free cookies!
Oh, this was going to be a lot more work than she originally thought.
There was not a single word that this girl said that Garret bought even for a second. She was lying, and it was obvious that she was lying. It would have been understandable if Cassie had done this kind of thing, because that was just something Cassie did. He and Cassie had a rapport. But this girl was not only a stranger, but she hadn't known he'd been coming around the corner. Their meeting had been a total chance.
Or had it? The more this girl seemed happy that he liked her cookies, the clearer it became. She had a total crush on him. Of course, this made Garret absolutely grin. "They're good," he assured her, replacing the cover on the container after slipping his phone into his pocket. "I like the lemon, it's unexpected. So, um, what's your name, anyway?"
"I'm glad you like them," Sim said, practically beaming. She was usually a tactful person. Nothing like what she was being now. She was a mysterious gypsy that dance among the flames of a fire and told stories to tourists before telling them their fortune. This was a school girl getting giddy and exited and not what she really wanted to have him look at her like.
"Simone Montrouge, but everyone calls me Sim," she said, not really using her real last name. That might give it away and she wasn't ready to just spring it on him that he was her father. Nope, for right now she had to learn to be a normal person around him first. This was big and she didn't want to scare him. "My friend likes lemon cookies, she says it gives them more flavor than just plain sugar cookies."
Part of Garret was tempted to call this girl on her bluff, ask her which friend she had been baking for. But he didn't want to embarass her, especially since she seemed so nervous to begin with. "She's very smart, your friend," he told Sim with a wink. "And lucky that she has you to bake for her." Flattery always worked with young girls, and Garret lived for the reactions they gave.
"Walk with me, Sim. Tell me about yourself. You're not from around here, are you? You've got an accent hiding in there, I can tell." He offered an arm to her, as well as a dazzling smile. "French, right? Très belle."
Sim felt like her face might be set aflame any moment with how hot her cheeks felt at that wink alone. No wonder her mama was so smitten and in love with this man. He was charming and sweet just like she had been told. Her face felt like it was stuck with a permanent grin as he kept talking. He was her father and he was making her swoon!
"Oh. . . Okay," she said as she nearly melted at him offering his arm. It was just like the stories! Sweet Prince Charming! "Yes. I'm from Paris," she said, nearly losing her breath. "I arrive here last week," she said, giggling at his small bit of French. "Merci," she replied, trying to keep her composure as best as she could. This man was her father, no doubt in her mind now.
Ah, the young lady swoon. Garret had missed this kind of thing. It was a shame that he got older while he got better with people, because the ones who appreciated him the most were starting to become the ones he was too old for. But then again, Mal wasn't too old for anybody, and he was seriously ancient.
"I don't speak very much French," he admitted as they walked. "Just the basics, and enough to charm a beautiful girl. Just enough to tell her that ses yeux bleus sont comme des étoiles." Another smile, and a sidelong glance in Sim's direction. Oh he was not helping to cease her crush whatsoever.
If he were not looking at her or holding onto him, she would have been on the ground in a puddle by then. This like a dream come true. Her father was the very man her mother described to him. She'd have to find more ways to keep talking to him. That meant more groceries to buy.
"English is much harder than French, but it just doesn't have the same. . ." Sim had to stop when he started to say those things. No wonder her mother had fallen in love with him so easily. She just had to stop and listen and just soak it in. Sim had never been so happy in her life! "Merci beaucoup," she said, having a hard time not melting right there.
"Anytime," he told her smoothly, his bright eyes twinkling in both delight and mischief. Okay, okay, so maybe he wasn't exactly being the most professional person right now. But it was hard to turn down the rush that a raw, obvious crush gave you. Just seeing the way this girl was practically swooning over a simple French compliment was such a savory high.
"So, Miss Simone, where can I escort you today?"
Well. . . Where was she going to go? She was kind of hungry and the cookies were gone, so. . . "The cafeteria please," she said after a moment of thought. It was easy to say she was going there instead of a random classroom. That and it was near enough that it would take a minute or two to get there, but not close enough that she'd lose his company so quickly.
"Have you worked here for very long?" She asked, hoping to keep the conversation going instead of lulling into awkwardness.
The cafeteria wasn't exactly on his route, but who was he to just walk away from a girl in need of escort? After all, she had baked for him, so it was the least he could do for her.
The question made Garret pause a moment, as the reality sunk in. "Wow," he said, reeling a bit. "I've been here for over a year. A year. That's crazy!" He chuckled a little, reflecting back on all the madness that had gone down between then and now. "I followed someone here from Wales," he explained. "A former lover. It didn't end up working out, which is disappointing, but he's my best friend now and he's marrying someone who's..." Lips pursed, Garret tried to think of the kindest way to describe the douchebag. "He's a very good match." That was probably as sweet as it was gonna get, and not bad if Garret did say so himself. "And now I'm married two a few good men, and we're happy, so I suppose it all worked out for the best."
Sim listened, not caring that it meant that he didn't love her mother like that anymore. It was romantic and adventurous. Just like how he'd been with her mother. "How lovely," she said, awe coming through. "It's nice that you're still friends with him. That shows how much you two meant to each other," Sim said nodding, enjoying the story. "Happiness is very good. Even if it's not with who you thought it would be with. Life's funny like that," she giggled.
"Life is definitely funny," Garret had to agree. After all, he could not have imagined himself where he was right then. He was living the kind of life you only saw in movies or read in Penthouse or something. "So, what was it that brought you all the way here? I hope it wasn't a lover, because no offense my dear, but you're a little young to be chasing rainbows that big."
"I'm 16," Sim giggled again. "I'm old enough. I'm here to travel," she said. "My mother told stories of my father traveling all the time before he met her and I wanted to see the sights he saw for myself. He didn't come to this school, that I know of, but I figure if I'm going to be traveling, I might as well learn as much as I can about this country from its own people," she said. That story had been prepared. just in case this had happened.
Nodding, Garret told her, "I think that's very smart. Even smarter coming to a place like this, where you don't have to worry about hiding what you really are while you try and figure out a new culture. I wish I'd had a place like this when I was a kid. When I was growing up, I thought that I had superpowers or something, like I had been exposed to radiation or I came from another planet or something. It would have been nice to know other people like me." He paused, then added dryly "Or any people under the age of thirty. I grew up alone, mostly. I don't know what I would've done if I had travelled by myself at your age. My brain probably would've exploded." He offered a smile, chuckling at himself. "Oh well. I did plenty of wandering Europe when I left college. That was one great summer."
"My family are gypsys. We travel around France, but never out of the country. It's too hard to get around the borders anymore," she said. It was weird, discussing this with him when he had no idea who she was. "My mother taught me our spells and tarot cards for the tourists who wanted to know if they'd become rich soon or fall in love on their vacation," she chuckled. "I didn't do many real readings, most people don't want to know they'll come home to no job or house." It was funny, telling him all about herself without him even realizing what was going on. "I've never been to school, at all. The children in my family were taught the basics, how to read and write and do simple math, but everything else we had to learn was our trade," she shrugged.
How coincidental was this? Garret smiled at Sim, shaking his head. "That's crazy. When I was backpacking through France, I met a gypsy. I didn't think that was even something real, just the kind of thing you saw in movies. But she read my fortune, and I'd have to say she was right." Garret smirked a little bit, remembering the French girl, and the fortune that she'd told him. Of course, he didn't really believe in palm reading and fortunes, but when a beautiful woman tells you that you're destined to spend the next week making love to her, and then you do, what else can one conclude?
"Well, Miss Sim with the beautiful eyes, this is your stop." Pausing outside the cafeteria doors, Garret unlinked his arm from Sim's, but kept hold of her hand to press a gentlemanly kiss to her knuckles. "Until we meet again?"
Her mother! He remembered her mother! Still, it'd be a shock to find out you had a daughter with the gypsy you spent a week with. Maybe later fter they got to know each other better. It wouldn't be so scary and he'd know she wouldn't want anything from him other than to see him here and there.
When they got to the cafeteria, she was a little sad, but the nick name made up for it. When he took her hand and kissed her knuckles, she wanted to die. It was exactly like what her mother had told her. Exactly. "Until we meet again," she said, smiling brightly as she curtsied slightly before walking backwards a few moments before she turned around and walked inside, looking over her shoulder again, just to get one last glance. There he was, just standing there like a protective gentleman should. She couldn't wait to let her mother know.