Wednesday September 11, 2019
Who: Rorie and Mark (NPC) What: Meetings and giving of numbers Where: A cafe in Boston When: Early evening
Rorie had had a rough start to TJS again. It seemed he was worse off than he thought. The deal with Garret and Mal and then Eileen was going to start living with Mandy primarily. The video of his quasi father-in-law and his ex-husband was the whipped cream and Mara acting bat shit crazy was the cherry on top of his shitty week sundae. With Eileen still at Mandy's, he headed out. While people said they were his friends and were there for him, he knew better. They just said that to make him and themselves feel better. He'd run out of trust and there was no real reason to think anyone would help him.
Mandy usually handed the phone to Grant if he asked for advice about socializing and said he was using his job and daughter as a shield against everything else. What if he was? So what? It wasn't like even if he wasn't there would be anyone else. Friends or boyfriends. He was just tired of arguing the opposite and just stopped asking about it. So now, here he was at a cafe brooding my himself and talking to Garret. Dressed in running pants and a JERSEY hoodie, Rorie was feeling anything but spectacular. He was face was scruffy and his hair looking like he'd just rolled out of bed. No shower after his shift probably left him smelling less than spectacular.
Grumpy from the full being just a few days away, Rorie felt like he was at his worst for the week. Nothing seemed to be going right and he didn't have any hope for it to go right. That is till he saw those dazzling blue eyes. They belonged to a man across the room and h wondered if maybe they'd been bewitched to look like that. It almost seemed like they had to because the man they belonged to had the skin color of milk chocolate and the smile of a Crest ad. He felt like he almost was in one from the way things were going. The conversation with Garret was going somewhere, he just didn't know where. There was no way he couldn't NOT look at those eyes. It had been a very long time since eyes that blue were aimed at him.
Wait, the guy was looking back. Oh shit. Then he started walking towards Rorie and that toothpaste ad smile was aimed at him. Oh shit! "Hi," he said as he got to Rorie's table, taking a seat. The were had just gotten back from throwing away Garret's choice of brew and couldn't do anything, but stare back a moment. "Do you speak English?"
"What? Oh! Yes. Yes, I do," Rorie said, his Irish accent blaring obviously. "Sorry, um. . . I-I didn' mean t-ta stare." Oh this was so lovely. Feeling his cheeks catch fire, Rorie wasn't sure what to say really.
"It's okay. I was kind of staring back," the man said with a chuckle. "I'm Mark." Offering one of his hands, the man just kept smiling at Rorie. It took a moment before realization struck the redhead and he reached over to shake hands.
"I'm Rorie," he said.
"That's a cute name." Cute name? Rorie felt his cheeks get hotter as Mark's grin widened. "Aw, you're blushing? That's cute too."
"Uh, thanks." What else was there to say? Rorie felt like his tongue was made of sand and words couldn't form. This hadn't happened since. . . Since Garret. "Ye have really. . . Cute eyes. . ." It only seemed to make Mark chuckle more.
"I like 'em, too. So, are you from around here?" He asked. Were they really having a conversation?
"I'm uh, actually from New Jersey, but I live in Danvers. I work there, too. I'm just here fer the coffee," Rorie said as he raised his cup a bit.
"Really? Pegged you for a steamboat transfer," Mark said. It took Rorie a moment before realizing he meant the accent.
"Oh, um. . . I was born here in Boston, but um, was adopted in New Jersey," he clarified as he glanced at the blinking window on his laptop. Garret was getting antsy.
"Cool, same here. Well, not adopted to Jersey though," Mark said. "So how long have you been. . . Changed?" He asked, looking around quickly, a smile on his lips. Wait. . . Rorie stared at him a moment before his senses kicked in. This guy was a were!
" 'bout ten years," Rorie said as his lips twitched slightly. "You?"
"Whole life. Parents are, too. I was born one," Mark said proudly. "Is your family too?"
"No," Rorie shook his head. "I'm a magical mishap. I'm not even a predator. I'm a lemur." It was actually kind of embarrassing admitting that to another were outside the school. Everyone that was a were was a fast, strong, meat eater while Rorie was a bug eyed, fruit eater.
"Really?" Mark said, cocking his head to the side. "I've never heard of anyone being anything other than a meat eater. How'd that happen?"
"Wish gone wrong. I used ta go ta a school that helped me with my other stuff and apparently a passing djinn decided it would be fun ta grant wishes. A lot of other people had better stuff happen and worse stuff happen." It was true, he knew a lot of people ended up worse off because they didn't know they were wishing for real things at the time.
"I should have signed up for this school!" Mark laughed.
"Well it was ten years ago," Rorie shrugged, smiling shyly.
"Ah, well, would they have admitted 13 year olds?" The other man asked, obviously joking.
"Yeah. It's a high school and a college," Rorie nodded. The math was already running in his head and apparently this guy, Mark, was 23. Nope. This was not going to happen. Rorie was easily 15 years older than him. This was too familiar, but he didn't say anything.
"Nice, so-" Mark was cut off quickly by his cell phone, giving Rorie a chance to glance and see Garret still being impatient. "Sorry about that. I have to run, but it was nice talking to you."
"Nice talkin' ta ye, too," Rorie said with a wave as Mark hurried on out. It took him a moment to realize there was a napkin on the table that had writing on it.
'Call me. - Mark XXX-XXXX' Did that. . . just really happen?