Girls Need Love

Chapter 8

"So why are we drinking milkshakes?"

"I'm cheering you up, do you not feel cheered up?" I ask as we step out into the streets and he shrugs. I had abandoned my previous activities to spend time with Tristan, but only because I wanted to know if he had made any progress with the blind dates just yet.

"So, who's my first date?" I ask him and he chuckles.

"You don't waste time, do you?"

"I've been wasting time, you kinda went M.I.A on me since the night back at my house."

I watch as his demeanor change, his hands tightened against the cup, his lips pursed.

"Yeah, uh, I apologize for that. I had some things to take care of."

"Are you alright?" I ask curiously and he waves me off.

"It's nothing. Taken care of already," he seemingly loses interest in his milkshake, throwing it out into a nearby bin as we were passing. I silently rejoiced that I wasn't the one who paid for it, "anyway, I do in fact have a date for you."

Now this was something I wanted to hear, "who?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a blind date." I let out an exasperated breath.

"Fine, when's the date?"

"Whenever you want, I'll set it up."

"Okay, tonight then." Tristan's mouth drops open and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"O-okay, um, well tonight's fine. I'll just call him up. His name is Jordan."

"Jordan," I repeat and Tristan rolls his eyes, "what?"

"What? Nothing," he says innocently. I ignore him, thinking about the possible outfits I could wear tonight.

"So I don't get to know anything about him?"

"No," Tristan leads us under a tree near the park where it had an old wooden bench. He uses a handkerchief he had in his pocket to wipe my side of the bench before I sit.

"Thank you," I smile quickly at him before sitting down.

"When you're at the location, I'll contact you to tell you what he looks like. But everything else, you'll learn from him."

I groan loudly.

"Something tells me I'm about to regret this," I mutter and he raises an eyebrow.

"Is that how you are before all of your dates?No wonder they never work out."

"Hey," I smack his chest and he chuckles, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you're starting it off with negativity, expecting it to be all good when you've already told yourself that it's going to be bad. Give yourself a chance."

"I am," I defend, frowning.

"No you're not, you expect everything to be perfect, and all of that love at first sight nonsense. You're not actually giving people a chance. You think you are, but you're not."

"Alright alright," I wave both of my hands in a silence motion, letting out a loud sigh, "enough about me."

"The truth hurts."

"Shut the hell up," I smack him again, this time harder and he groans.

"Ouch."

"Anyway, tell me about you, Mr. Matulo, where are you from?"

"Ignecy."

I blink, letting him know that I had no clue what he was talking about.

"Its in Italy," he chuckles and I nod.

"Why didn't you just say Italy?"

"Where's the fun in that? Plus you've learned something."

"Yeah yeah," I roll my eyes, sucking the straw until there was nothing left below. It protested loudly, and Tristan grabs it, crushes it, and then throws it in a nearby trash can.

"It's the rage for me," I mutter.

"Where are your parents?" He asks, as I cross my legs.

"My dad died five years ago, and my mom lives in California."

"Oh, my parents are deceased as well."

"Both of them?" I couldn't help but feel a little bad.

"Yeah but don't worry, they weren't nice people."

"Hm," I murmur, staring out into the busy streets, "my dad was nice. He was the nicest. He was understanding, and calm, but also really assertive. Nothing could get past him."

"How did he die? If you don't mind me asking?"

"He drowned."

"Damn . . ."

"Yeah," I drawl, staring down at the pebbles under my feet, "I wasn't there but it was beach day for him and mom. They went out, and mom said he was trying to impress her, seeing how far he could swim from the shore. He had a stroke while swimming, he went down . . . Came up a few times, and . . . Well . . . He died."

Tristan furrows his eyebrows.

"There wasn't anyone around?"

I shake my head, "I guess not, my dad owns a private beach, and my mom can't swim. By the time the ambulance had arrived he was already gone."

"She was so miserable . . . after his death. She cried for what felt like forever, she didn't eat, she didn't sleep, she would just sit in his chair and talk to him all day. I thought she was going crazy. I had to look over her most of the time, just in case she hurt herself and sometimes I felt like I didn't have time to grieve, like I just had to push it under my heart and just pray that it disappears. That's why, after she got better with therapy, and support, I left Cali."

“How is she now?” Tristan asks and I smile.

“She’s great, beyond great. I talk to her almost everyday.”

“That’s good,” he nods, “has she moved on?”

“Moved on from my dad?” I raise both eyebrows, scoffing, “I don’t think you can every move on from your soulmate.”

“Oh, so you think they were soulmates?” Tristan rubs his chin, peering down at me and I nod.

“Literally till death do them part. Sure, she can get over the hurt somewhat, and live her life happily, but I don’t think she’d see anyone else. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“That’s not how what’s supposed to be?”

“Life after your soulmate passes; you can’t just decide that you’re going to be with someone else.”

Tristan seemed baffled by my words, but didn’t say anything. I know he would’ve protested, and told me that I was wrong, but I appreciate the fact that he didn’t.

“Tell me about your parents,” I tell him, after a moment of silence and he whistles, shaking his head.

“You don’t wanna hear about them, trust me.”

“They were that bad?”

“Worse.”

“I can handle it,” I tell him but he refuses to budge.

“Not right now. At least not here.”

“Okay, I’ll be sure to ask you another time then.”

“Are you you saying that we’re meeting again?” He smirks and I shrug.

“Why not? You’re practically my soulmate finding aid for the next month or so.”

“So that’s all I am to you huh? Would it hurt to say friend?”

“Yikes,” I twist my lips and he chuckles.

“You are too much.”

“More than enough,” I reply with a small smile and he licks his lip in response. I avert my eyes, refusing to even think about him in any other way and he stands.

“I’m gonna return to the office, are you good to go? Do you need a lift home?”

“Oh, you’re working today?” I ask stupidly, and he points to his badge.

“Right,” I laugh nervously, shaking my head, “I’m alright, thanks.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna go grocery shopping anyway.”

“Okay well, I’ll text you.”

“Hey, Tristan?” I stand as well, walking over to him, “thanks for not saying I’m sorry, a lot of people thinks it helps, or it provides comfort, but it doesn’t.”

“I’ve heard it a few times too, I know how it goes.” I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets and he smiles.

“I love your hat thing by the way, really brings out the smurf in you.”

I completely forgot that I had on my bonnet. I resist the urge to recoil in embarrassment, so I only flip him off as he leaves.

I’m really outside walking around like this?