Page 7 of Sunflower Persona
“What do you think I should do, Daisy?”
The only thing I am sure of is that I can’t waste today sitting around my dorm. I might not make any friends out there, but the odds still beat the zero percent chance I have staying here.
This would be so much easier if I had social hobbies.
“Exploring is a good option. I could go see what downtown is like in the light of day.”
Surely it won’t be the same hellish experience it was last night.
When I was growing up, my parents would tell me stories about their time at UGA. One complaint they both had was how hilly the campus is. I thought they were exaggerating, but Athens gives credence to the “walked uphill both ways” anecdotes. At least my ass will look great by the time I graduate.
Without the crowds and the constant bombardment of sound, downtown is actually kind of nice. Sweet floral scents drift in from the North Campus gardens, covering most of the foul odors from the night before that still cling to the gutters. In the chaos of the evening, I didn’t notice all the shops and restaurants. They take up more window space than the bars by a large margin. Most are basic, but some ooze that weird Athens charm my parents never shut up about. My best chance at meeting someone I vibe with has to be in one of them.
I don’t make any friends in the first vintage store I check, but I do find several unique pieces to add to my wardrobe. It’s a win, even if it’s not what I set out to do.
Sunlight blinds me as I step back outside. It takes several seconds for the dark spots to fade from my vision, and the sight that greets me when they do has my stomach springing into a gymnastics routine worthy of the Olympics.
It’s him.
Across the street, Gage stands in front of a crowded coffee shop, looking surlier than he did last night. Hell, the scowl that never left his lips might have actually been his customer service face, because the look there now is downright mean. People are giving him a wide berth as they pass, going as far as crossing the street when they see him.
Of all the people in the city, it had to be him. The cruel fates must be laughing at me now. They heard my promise and tangled our threads.
With a heavy sigh, he drops back against the window and runs a hand over his face. A strange pang of recognition hits me again, resonating all the way to my bones. My feet carry me in his direction before I can think it through. I couldn’t fight it if I wanted to. His anguished brooding has a leash on my heartstrings.
He doesn’t react as I approach him. I’m not sure if he doesn’t notice me or if he’s hoping I’ll go away if he ignores me. Not much has changed about his appearance since last night. I’m not sure why I expected it to. It’s not like bartending requires a specific uniform. The only change is instead of a plain T-shirt, he’s wearing one branded with the logo for some place called “Double Teep.” I file that bit of information away and build up the courage to speak to the mountain of a man.
“Hey.” My voice comes out in a strained squeak.
It gets his attention, though. His lashes open without any haste, and he glares at me with the intensity of a raging storm. That’s the only reaction he gives. I guess we aren’t doing the whole “hi” thing.
“Gage, right? From Cutter’s? We met last night. You probably meet a ton of people every night, though, so it’s totally cool if you don’t remember me. I’m Kori, in case you forgot.”
An abrupt bark of nervous laughter stops my rambling. Never once does his steely expression change. The man doesn’t even blink. This was a bad idea. Scratch that, this was the worst idea. I think he would rather swallow glass than talk to me, but that knowledge doesn’t stop more words from spilling past my lips.
“I wanted to check and see if you are okay.”
That gets a reaction.
His face softens, and for a brief moment, confusion overtakes his features, but the stone mask reappears in an instant. Even so, that glimpse told me more than any words could have. He isn’t used to people worrying about him, or at least strangers. When was the last time someone asked how he was? Who does he go to when he needs a shoulder to cry on? It could be me if he’s willing to let me in. Everyone needs someone to have their back when things get tough. I know I do.
“I’m fine,” he huffs.
“You don’t look fine.”
“Not your concern.” His words leave no room for argument, but there’s no malice in the tone.
“What’s going on? Maybe I can help.”
“Unless you can get me a job, I don’t think you’ll be much help.”
“A new job? What happened to the bar?”
“We can’t all be lucky enough to survive off one job. Cutter’s isn’t cutting it anymore.” His mouth snaps shut before his lips twist into a grimace. “What the fuck am I even doing? I don’thave time to waste standing here talking to you. Sorry, Kourtney, but I really have to go.”
Shaking his head, he pushes off the wall and disappears down the street without a backward glance.
Okay then. Nice talking to you too, asshole.
