Ruby, aka the other Cece, and Gavin (Part-II)

"I am changing my mind. From now on, I am going to hit on you."

There were some situations a girl would fantasise about. Scenarios straight out webtoons, or the famous love stories where they would replace the main characters. Cece had some fantasies too. One of the best ones was confessing love in the airport. As silly as it sounded, it had its own charm.

This scenario was nowhere in her imagination.

"Huh?" The sound she made sounded stupid, even to her own ears. Gavin broke into a soft, affectionate smile.

"Think of it any way you'd like. Courting, flirting, trying to seduce you, but this time I am serious. I don't think it's a secret that I like you."

"Are you going to ask me out or something?" Cece collected herself and asked.

"Is that how you want it to be? I was thinking something else?" Gavin looked at her questioningly. Cece's heart jumped up to her throat.

"What kind of weird things are going on in your mind, Gavin? Also, how did you suddenly come to this conclusion that you should court me?" Cece felt a thin layer of sweat covering her forehead.

"Nothing weird is going on in my head. I just want to know you better and there's no better way to do that than becoming friends first."

"What?"

"I did decide to never disturb you again. Then I saw you today with your aunt. It's going to sound cliche, but I did see the way you were staring at me. Then it occurred to me." Gavin tilted his head and gestured to her to continue walking. They walked side by side. The closeness with him was too overwhelming.

"What occurred to you?" Cece shivered a little imagining many possible replies.

"I realised that you are just not good at showing affection or expressing your emotions. At least not with everyone. I wonder how you act around your family members or your friends."

Cece stopped walking again and stomped her feet slightly. "Shouldn't you just act like a normal guy, and ask me out for a coffee date, or something like that instead of doing a psych analysis?" She was going to say more, but the fear of acting petulant stopped her.

"Is that what you'd like? I can do that. I'd love to take you out for a date."

"Good. Next Sunday evening at 4. Pick me up, and wear something casual." Cece extended her right hand, palm facing up.

"What?" Gavin asked. His face had started to redden. The blush made him look — Cece thought of the word 'delectable' and shook her head.

"Your phone. Or are you planning to send an owl post?"

Gavin hastened and put his phone in her hand, unlocked. Cece saved her number under the name Ruby, and returned the phone. "See you on Sunday," she said and started walking again. She increased her pace, hoping he would not call her back.

The impulsive reaction had already embarrassed her to her core, she didn't want him to see her flushed face, or the giggles she was struggling to contain. He thought Cece was unable to express her emotions, so Cece took an oath to show him how wrong his readings were.

That night, Cece couldn't sleep. Thoughts of Gavin kept her awake for the first half of the night. She thought of him in their previous meetings. They had met only three times. All three times were unique as if a writer had taken a lot of time and loved to imagine their first meeting and write about them. It was perfect.

The other two times were like coincidences carefully planned by an unseen benefactor. A month ago, she was writing her journal in the cafe around the corner. Sunday mornings are generally crowded. Cece didn't mind the crowd. Somehow, it made her feel alive. She chose to watch the crowd, rather than being a part of it. She watched the young students from her university, the locals who were there for coffee and breakfast.

And in that crowd, there was him, standing alone, inspecting all his breakfast options. He wore a plain shirt, denim, and a day of unshaven beard. His eyes were tired, and bloodshot, his face a dull image of fatigue. Cece wondered what made him look so exhausted on a Sunday morning. She noticed how his mere presence had made the cafe look a little brighter. However, after their interesting last meeting—first meeting to be precise–she dared not to attract his attention.

Cece focused on her journal instead. She assembled dried flowers, stickers, pieces of lace, and old stamps with precise mastery. It was soothing to prepare a junk journal. The one she was working on had no specific themes. Some of the pages had sketches on them, some contained lines from her favourite novels and poems, and some had photographs fixed on them; mostly monochrome images brought out a unique personality of the journal. She was content with the outcome and somewhat proud.

"I found you," a masculine voice rang from above. Cece delightfully thought, even in a crowded place she found her. She did not say anything, just spared him a glance.

"Judging from your response, you found me first."

"Does that make you feel better now?" she asked indifferently.

"A little, yes. After a tiring night, it's something refreshing." Gavin paused, probably expecting an answer. Cece had to oblige him.

"I am glad," she said.

"There are no other seats available. May I sit with you?"

Cece shrugged, which might mean both 'yes' and 'no'. Gavin sat in front of her happily and asked, "What would you like to have?"

"I already had my breakfast. I may take a refill of my coffee, but I will take that in my time." Cece spared him another glance and out of courtesy she added, "You may go ahead."

The man nodded and started eating. He was famished, Cece gathered by the way he ate. She wanted to stop him from gobbling his food, asking him to eat slowly, but it was only the second time she was seeing him. After some time, she couldn't control herself. "When was the last time you ate?"

Gavin seemed to be calculating something internally. "Almost twelve hours."

Cece fell silent. Her eyes were stuck on his face. He looked like a child as he ate, content, and happy. When he was done, he asked, "Have you tried their pancakes? It feels like a home-cooked breakfast."

"I know."

"Aren't you talkative?" he smiled and stretched.

"I am just trying to help you save your energy. Looks like you stayed up the whole night," Cece said. Her fingers traced the corner of a page, where she was planning to fix some more lace. She peered inside her tin box, searching for the pale blue colour.

"You are great at it."

"Thanks."

"Of course, being a civilised person, you should not ask me what I was doing last night," he muttered.

"Of course," she agreed.

"What if it was something really interesting, or adventurous?"

"Like you turned the wheel of time, raised the dead, and shot Hitler dead? Or you travelled on a pirate ship?"

He broke into a loud laughter, causing a small murmur and some curious eyes focusing on them. "Now I realise, working on assignments and projects are simply mundane. What about you? What kind of adventure do you embark on during the weekends?"

"I binge-watch Doctor Who. or any show that has a good-looking male protagonist."

"No parties?"

"No parties."

"Would you like to have another coffee?"

"Sure," Cece said and shot her eyes upon his face. He was smirking.

"Is it too soon to confess that I like you?"

Cece smirked back. "Yes. this is our second meeting."

Recollecting past events always brought perspective to her. Tonight, she thought of the odds of meeting Gavin all three times, like somebody wanted them to cross their paths. She also reflected on her own emotions. Catching feelings for a person on the first, second or third time was not abnormal, but feeling so irresistibly attracted was not.

This was one of the reasons which made her apprehensive towards him. Even though it was not his fault, at least she did not think it was his fault. It was not the first time she faced such a dilemma. In the past, more than once she wanted to react in a different way, but ended up doing something else.

For example, when she wanted to study physics, she prepared herself in every way, she scored the perfect marks, she acquired the skill and worked on the talent; but when she entered the university with her application form, every fibre of her being pushed her towards Humanities. She often thought of that day, and how impulsively she decided to choose Humanities instead of something she truly enjoyed.

That memory triggered more memories. There was a sweet boy at her university who followed her all the time in the cutest way possible. She thought hard. Oliver, yes, that was his name. The cute nerd probably thought Cece wouldn't notice him. He didn't know Cece was watching him too.

In an ideal world, Oliver would have been her first choice. Not Gavin.