Chapter 2 - Surprises and Accidents

Immersed into the film, Cora and Anaya sat snuggly beneath the blankets whilst devouring their cups of hot chocolate. After having survived their first week of high school, the two new friends decided to wind down with a heart felt film and a sweet, satiating beverage. After bonding over their love of films and giggling the night away, they agreed to do the same again. This became the beginning of their Friday tradition.

"I have the exact same jeans as that character!" Anaya squealed at the screen causing Cora to burn her lip with the drink.

Unnoticed, Cora placed her fingers upon the burn and internally swore due to the pain. She glanced from the film to Anaya's room: it was full of pinks and whites, modern decor and a plethora of expensive accessories scattered amongst the place. She has a wall full of polaroids, full of her memories and Cora's together. It was a physical portrayal of her life, not perfect but close enough. Cora wasn't jealous, she's not the type, she was simply confused as to why she didn't get the same chance at life.

Aside from that depressing thought, she strived to create an ideal life for herself. She had a plan.

"Girls were home early !" I heard Anaya's parents shout from downstairs. We turned to face each other, both puzzled, then we lifted ourselves from the bed and went to meet them.

"Sorry to interrupt your Friday girls but our date night got cut short because someone got called into work late." Anaya's mother, Anna, shook her head whilst staring into the direction of Ian.

"I'll make it up to you all -" Ian began, he took out a pizza box from the bags placed on the kitchen counter.

"- firstly, a pizza for you girls from the restaurant." He smiled, handing us over the warm pizza box. An apology pizza for us both. We took the box and held it together after thanking him.

"We thought you might be hungry and ordered it from the restaurant." Ian stated.

Anna stood with her arms crossed and a smirk on her lips, waiting to see what it was that Ian would say or do to 'make it up' to her.

"And of course, for the woman to top all women. My one true love. Im taking you to that weekend spa you kept telling me about the other week. So, am I forgiven ?" He asked looking around at all of us. Anaya and I giggled with a nod whilst Anna walked closer to him and placed her hands on his cheeks.

"Yes." She smiled, cupping his face and placing a kiss on his lips.

This was the couple that restored my faith in love. They were high school sweethearts who then got engaged during university. Anna had a successful career in interior design and Ian was a honourable barrister. Regardless of their busy careers, they made time to have Anaya and raised her well, with love. It seemed as though they were all-the-more in love than the first time I met them years ago. An honest and simple yet passionate relationship.

My parents were the opposite. It seemed like there was always something wrong, something missing. They were either close or far, so far that Dad would sleep on the sofa when things got bad. Skimming past the idea of divorce, they always remained married. Their love was seasonal, sometimes cold and sometimes insanely hot. I never knew what they were arguing about or what was wrong as they hid many things from me. It all surfaced when my father was taken.

"Save it for the bedroom!" Anaya joked referring to her parents' public display of affection. They turned to us sheepishly.

"I honestly don't know how your mother did it. I can't imagine Ian leaving for nine months when I act like an actual child when he leaves for just one night." Anna sighed.

"It was tough but, we got used to it." I answered simply, hoping the subject would change.

"Christmas too right ?" Ian asked with a sad expression.

"Yeah, he called us though." I stated with a small smile. Both Anna and Ian looked at each other with a frown.

"Well, I'm sure it was worth it. Business trips can usually provide more money and he surely did it with both of you in mind." Ian concluded.

Both of us in mind?

It seemed like the opposite.

My fathers jail sentence resulted in my mother and I having to create a lie: a business trip. As a joiner, it was strange for him to have to go abroad for work. The people in our life seemed to accept our lie but I always worried that deep down, they had speculations. And in this situation, I felt that gut feeling again.

Cora didn't take it well. When her father was taken away and the truth came out, she felt like her life was crashing down. As though someone had given her the gift of clear sight, she would rather be blind than to see what she saw. Not only did she temporarily lose her best friend who was her father, and become aware that she had been lied to, she realised how alone she was. Her mother avoided talking about him for a while, she also drilled into Cora's mind that no one must know. That she couldn't tell anyone. She had to continue as though nothing had happened, she had to wear a smile in front of everyone as she feared the truth getting out. Shame brimmed and bubbled in her stomach. She couldn't tell anyone about the demons that tortured her daily.

Glazed with tears, filled with hopelessness, thats how she would sometimes sit at her bay window and stare at the view of the street and the far city.

"I think it's great that you're working but you know that if there's anything you need, we can help you." My father assured me. I gave him a smile and continued staring the the traffic in front of us.

"I hated my first job. I was sixteen and worked as a newspaper delivery boy -" He began.

"- I would ride my bike early in the morning with about five layers of clothing because of how damn cold it was." He reminisced with a smile.

"I bet it was good exercise though. I loved my first job, I guess it just depends where and who you work with." I shrugged.

He turned to me with his blue eyes and furrowed his dark brows.

"I thought this was your first job ?" My father asked as we parked up.

The car stopped and I unbuckled my seatbelt.

"I started working as barista when you were gone. I just wanted to help you both, financially" I stated.

"You never told me that on the phone did you ?" He continued questioning me. I grabbed my black tote bag from next to my feet and placed it on my shoulder.

"I did. You must have just forgotten. See you later Dad." I kissed his cheek and got out the car.

"I love you." He shouted after I shut the door. Unfortunately, I love you too.

It wasn't what he forgot that hurt. It was the act of forgetting itself. He used to call her, once a week for 15 minutes. She cherished those minutes yet he simply forgot the information she gave him about herself. How she got a job because she was afraid they wouldn't have enough money. She wanted to support them too. Much like the fact he had begun illegal activities in the first place, Cora was not a key consideration before his actions.

She halted at the door to the bar, breathing in the cold September air and exhaling, envisioning that all the stress escaped through her mouth and pores. She put on a smile and entered the upbeat bar.

Richard welcomed her and she got right into work. From making drinks, collecting things from tables and serving people, her mind was empty and she was in the moment.

"Cora." Richard shouted her over. He was stood behind the bar, talking to two men. With a tray in her hand, she walked behind the bar, placed the glasses in the sink and turned to Richard and the two men.

The oldest, around the mid fourties, had olive skin and dark hair with strokes of grey. He appeared important due to his dress code. He wore a white dress shirt that hung on his well built frame, the white shirt emphasised the depth of his dark eyes and large nose. His dark, familiar eyes.

Cora felt as though she knew him.

As her eyes glanced at the tall figure beside him, she could instantly tell they were father and son. Taller than his father and more muscular, the man stood straight with a black dress shirt and grey jeans. His hair was dark but tousled in a way that appeared perfectly messy. His eyes met hers as he examined her too, from her defined cheekbones and large blue eyed to her tight black blouse. Instantly, they broke eye contact as soon as they made it.

"Vincent, Dean. This is Cora, you know, Eric's daughter." He explained to them, the father turned and smile at me, as though he knew me.

"Vincent is an old friend of your father's and I. He just moved back here from South America." Richard explained.

"It's nice to meet you both." I smiled.

"Likewise." He nodded. "It's been over five years since i've seen your father so please, tell him I'm in town so I can catch up with your old man." He pleaded.

I nodded with a smile.

As Richard and Vincent began to chatter, Cora saw a look in Dean's eyes. He seemed empty, not bored or tired, just empty. As though any positive thought had been drained from his mind and he was left with the shell of a man. Vincent's story about his recent purchase of a grand house in the city caused Dean to roll his eyes, neither his father or Richard noticed. But Cora did. The tension between them was now visible and she couldn't handle it. She turned to the wall and began tidying the alcohol display, her mind intrigued by the boy's familiar hatred towards his father.

After a couple minutes, Cora heard Richard offer to show them around the bar and as the sound of their voices faded, she turned. She hoped to turn and see and empty bar. Instead, Dean was sat on the stool with a stone cold look on his face. He sat sidewards, and appeared to be staring at the rest of the bar. The view of his side profile displayed his prominent adam's apple and muscular physique. For a moment Cora forgot she was staring.

As her eyes remained glued to him, he felt her stare. She couldn't help it, she wasn't one to ogle at the attractive men she may see or make it obvious if that. In a swift moment, she entered a state of embarrassment: he turned to face her. Rising like the roaring flames in a pit of fire, her cheeks instantly began to heat up.

"Would you like a drink ?" I offered kindly, hoping to ease the awkwardness.

"Virgin gin and tonic." He stated emotionlessly. Taken aback by his lack of politeness, I begun to make the drink for him. I wasn't the shy type but the fact he was watching me put me on the spot, making me feel like I was being examined. My heart raced as I poured the liquid into the glass, as though at any moment I could spill it or get bumped and drop the glass on the floor causing it to shatter.

Neither occurred. I finished the drink and placed it on the counter.

Turning back around to collect myself and clear away the drinks, I sighed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I heard an angered voice ask. Confused, I turned to see who Dean was arguing with.

Me.

I was met with fiery eyes that darted into my own.

His temples were tensed. So was his jaw. How could he easily get so angered ? I merely cleaned up the bar and he erupted into a state of fury.

"What - what do you mean ?" I stammered, my brows furrowed and a slight chuckle to my voice as I was taken aback by his anger that seemed to have no source.

"I asked for virgin. You served me alcohol. Did I not make myself clear the first time or is idiocy a trait all blonde women share?" He spat. I was filled with both embarrassment and rage.

She was about to erupt too. His comment and delivery was careless and unnecessary. Then, in her stomach, she felt as though she deserved it. Such a mistake could be very threatening for certain people: people who take certain medication, people with allergies, certain religious beliefs, recovering alcoholics. The list could go on. As she tried to form a valid argumentative comment to fire back, her anger soon depleted and she gave in.

"Im truly sorry Dean. I know it's no excuse but this is my second day working here and I must have mixed up the alcohol with the non-alcohol." I ranted apologetically, evident worry in my tone.

His face remained deadpanned and he stood up from the stool, keeping his eye on me.

"Keep the change, you'll need it to fund your further education that you clearly, desperately need." He hissed, leaving a ten pound bill on the counter and walking out of the bar.

My heart was beating sporadically and I was left in awe.

As her shift went by, she didn't see nor hear from any of the three. Although it was unlikely that Dean's possible complaint could lead to Richard firing her, she still felt a great deal of shame and fear. She didn't want to let him down. The night was busy luckily, Cora immersed herself into her work and even interacted with customers who were cheerily drunk that made her shift turn out for the better. Towards the end of the night, she grew worried for Richard.

Oblivious to her surroundings, Cora swept the bar floor and hummed a random tune as she aimed to drown out the mental noise. It had been a couple hours since Richard and Vincent left from the supposed 'tour' of the bar, worried and confused, Cora continued to run the bar normally and avoiding panic.

Like a deer jerking its head at sudden headlights, Cora turned to the direction in which she heard Richard and Vincent laugh as they came from the stairs. He was back and both of them seemed alright.

"Sorry about that Cora, I didn't mean to take that long. Were you coping well ?" Richard asked me, to which I nodded.

"It got a little hectic at one point but I managed." I stated with a smile and continued to sweep.

"Right. I'll be off now. It was nice meeting you Cora, remember to ask your father for me. Goodnight to you both." Vincent said as he put on his blazer, then left swiftly into the night. His aura connoted power and status, which at some points, left me feeling almost chilly in his presence. Therefore, by his exit, I felt oddly free.

"I really am sorry about leaving for that long" Richard apologised with a sympathetic smile.

"Honestly, it's fine. Don't apologise." I assured him.

"Right, so, where should I start ?" He asked, coming behind the bar.

"Well, I was having some issues with the glass-washer. I just cant seem to pick up the rack of glasses to put inside it." I sighed, explaining my annoyance as it also made me appear weak.

I watched as Richard picked up the rack of heavy classes and adjusted it into the machine. Shaky and red, his left arm was visibly weak. I glanced at his other arm, which was perfectly fine.

"Richard, what's wrong with your arm ?" I questioned him. He looked at me with confusion then a light smile washed over him.

"I trapped it in one of the bar doors earlier on. Just a little swelling and bruising, nothing serious." He explained casually whilst checking that each cup was clean of it's stains.

"Good job with the glasses." He praised me, to which I smiled back a thank you.

Regardless of the negative aspects of working there, Cora enjoyed being away from home. Her house was filled with bad memories that she simply couldn't forget. Her five hour shift's granted her moments of escape.