Chapter 13.1
1291 Words
"He's dating someone in the campus," Dayshawn said as we had another dinner at Minia's, our favourite dining place and the one Razbill bought for our lunch.
I stopped slicing a steak to turn to him. He didn't glance at me. He continued to have a bite of his food.
Frowning to myself, I realized he must be talking about Razbill. But I did not want to make an assumption and ended up wrong. Although I had a feeling he invited me for this because of what he had noticed between me and his brother.
"I don't know who you're talking about."
He let go of his utensils and gently wiped his lips with the table napkin. There was a vacancy in his eyes so I let go of my utensils, too.
“You know who, George. It's my brother Razbill. I know we're nothing but friends. I have no business to pry on your relationship with other people. But this is my brother. We both don't know him well. Our family is still getting to know him."
"Daniella's nice to him," I said because that was the truth. I cleared my throat at how I casually protected Razbill Silvero. “He doesn't look like the bad guy—and, nothing's going on between us."
"I saw the way you looked at him, George. All I'm saying is get to know him well first. Except for me and Tanner Tallano, I have never seen any guy around you. This is friendly advice."
I frowned at the food, feeling bad that I could not devour them again. I lost my appetite. "I know what I'm doing. Besides, he's your brother."
"We didn't grow up together. He's from a delinquent school. Even I wouldn't trust him easily. You should, too."
But Razbill was young when he was sent there. It couldn't be his decision, right? Who would want to be there and away from his family?
I sighed and nodded in defeat. Through my nose, I breathe, “I'll keep that in mind."
I did not show up for lunch on Tuesday. We didn't talk about my supposed date with Dayshawn during lunch yesterday. It was late when I realized he might think I missed the rooftop today because of Dayshawn. Partly, yes. I defended him to his brother because I did not like the way everyone talked about him. I just knew there was more to him than they all think they knew; than what he made everyone believe.
Partly, I was a coward. Simple as that.
Dayshawn knew. I was afraid it would reach my father. Although Dayshawn and I were not like that. We never tell on each other. But still, knowing my father's opinion against Razbill's character, I knew he would be displeased. Besides, he had warned me not to make friends with Razbill Silvero.
I thought he would interrogate me once we see each other again. Avoiding him was the best choice. My friend didn't have a study group today. We were all heading home. I waved them goodbye when I caught sight of Razbill.
He didn't walk to me as I thought. He headed to the parking area to the left. Our car pulled up on the driveway. Instead of going to it, my feet moved on their own accord to follow Razbill's footsteps.
I was yet to reach the open parking when a big black motorbike rushed out from there. The driver was alone and had a black helmet over his head. I knew it was Razbill without having to question my guess.
I watched him go longingly. I felt bad avoiding him. When I turned around for our car, Joe was there standing outside the vehicle. Somehow bewildered, he opened the backseat door for me. He looked a bit worried as I approached him.
"Is it Sir Razbill?" He glanced over my shoulder to let me know he saw the motorbike driving out.
"Yeah," I said and got in. I had my attention somewhere far; my eyes by the window.
"Do you have plans with him?" Joe asked. I was not in the mood to speak but I did not really want to ignore him. Besides, I would rather talk than let my mind wander.
"No."
"I saw how you looked at him."
I frowned as I tried to imagine exactly how but I couldn't get an idea. "How?"
He contemplated. His eyes watched me from the rearview mirror. "You seemed like you're ready to run after him. That's why I asked if you have plans with him and if he forgets the plan or you."
"Did I… Did I look too obvious. I mean, stupid? Do I look stupid?"
It was his turn to frown. "No, why would you be stupid for wanting to run after someone? You think people running after their buses are stupid?"
No. "I don't really plan to run after him." I had to make this thing clear. I was feeling bad. To see him ignoring me because I was with him and driving away made me feel bad. It probably was karma. And it indeed feels worse when it comes back to you.
I missed the rooftop the whole week. I became busy with school work and a few days with my friends. Razbill and I met at a family dinner again but we no longer enjoyed a private joke. We rarely met each other's eyes. Rather, I. I refused to meet his gaze. When my eyes landed on Dayshawn instead, he gave me a small smile. I was feeling empty that I couldn't return it.
"He's just like that. He never thought of making friends with anyone because—he simply doesn't feel the need to," Daniella explained while trying to redo her lipstick.
She dragged me to the washroom. Only because the conversation on our table was heating up, and as usual, it would be about Razbill.
Everyone tried to avoid it, but along the lines, the discourse would somehow slip to point out something about Razbill. Mostly things they did not like about him—like; they believed he was being too superior, ungrateful, and insensitive.
I guess Daniella had gotten tired of hearing all of it. I knew—we knew—she would have dragged Razbill instead of me. Only if she could.
"I hope you don't find him rude, too," she added to my silence. "If I was in his position, I would be mute, too. I don't know all these people who are suddenly telling me what to do. You know I could be over self-conscious at times. Plus, they're already judging him wrong because of his former school. Do you think he has a chance to show himself? No! They aren't letting him! I would honestly cry myself to sleep if I was him."
It left me speechless again. I said nothing until she finished her lipstick. "You think he often cries?"
The question was not expected by any of us. We stared at our reflection in the mirror. I was afraid she would notice anything odd. She didn't.
"We rarely see men cry. I was talking about me, if I was my brother. I have never really seen him cry since we met."
But her brother was not yet a man. Yet, I would not consider him as a boy either. I preferred to refer to him as a guy. He looks and thinks more maturely than most boys around his age. Dayshawn was a little bit mature in thoughts and in actions. But there was always something that set him different from the rest; than the ordinary.
Still, they were both around our age. They were both young.
- Writer
