Page 6 of Organized Chaos
She unsurely lifted a shoulder. "I’m not a big fan of the beach, but it’s cool to be here with my friends.”
“I have never met someone who dislikes the beach.”
“The concept of sitting on a hot, sandy beach does nothing for me. I’m too ADD for that.” She giggled. Not a muffled laugh with a hand over your mouth, as was commonly practiced by most women, but a real giggle.
Something inside my chest twisted at the sound. It was suffocating and liberating, all mixed in one.
“Doyoulike the beach?” she asked.
“Sure. But I miss the stimulation of a big city whenever I’m at the beach for too long.”
“Hmm. I live in a big city but spend most of my stimulating time inside a research lab.”
“Oh yeah? Are you about to cure cancer?”
“I wish. I work at a research lab for social sciences. It serves no purpose and is draining the college’s resources. The Dean is looking into shutting it down, not that I blame him. Honestly, if I weren’t desperate to get away from my crazy family, I wouldn’t work there.”
I laughed at her candor in front of a perfect stranger. "Everyone thinks their family is crazy. I'm sure they aren’t so bad.”
Any hint of playfulness abruptly disappeared, replaced by a grave look. “They are,” she asserted, speaking as if questioning her opinion on the matter was detestable.
It was evident that I struck a nerve. She was offended by the comment, perceiving it as dismissive of her feelings.
Once more, this girl reminded me of little Mia, distressed by her family life. She had a particularly complicated relationship with Milo, imprinting on him like a baby bird ever since her birth.
As soon as the thought crossed my mind, I chided myself. Mia was supposed to be a useless topic. The last time I opened that pandora’s box, it prompted Milo’s wrath for meddling.
We were different; Milo was the responsible type while I was laid-back. Though he accepted those traits in a friend, it wasn’t good enough of an influence on his beloved baby sister.And family was Milo’s kryptonite, the rules regarding them non-negotiable.
I vowed to put a lid on it, ascertaining that the similarities to Mia ended with the gleaming eyes, blonde hair, and unhappy homes. Moving forward, I merely needed to refrain from personal speculations.
God, this was a lot of work, even for one lousy drink at the bar.
Sensing the tension, Maya changed the topic to something more amusing. “I feel like every girl here is checking you out.”
Her eyes swept the room. I trekked after her eyes to find Farah and Tasha looking sideways. A lone figure at the bar stole glances in our direction, too. Along with a couple of women at the far corner as well. A group of girls at a nearby table. Possibly even one or two of the female servers.
“Can you blame them for staring?” I quirked an eyebrow.
Yes, I was aware of the effect I had on females. They went on about my “icy pale” blue eyes, 6’3 frame, and the impeccable physique I forced myself to keep up. But very seldom did an encounter worth mentioning occur.
A few determining factors resulted in my overly picky nature. Mostly, I didn’t need the reputation of being a womanizer. Already had one for being an asshole.
Not to mention, women rarely piqued my interest. Even for a one-night stand, I had several criteria. Once taken into account, all of it drastically scaled the pool. I didn’t relish dealing with drama, nor did I care for boring women without personalities. I also didn’t like girls my age or younger, preferring the company of mature women. I hated girls with attachment to social media and particularly detested "selfies."
My standards for physical appearance were even more stringent, hardly identifying a woman as attractive. Hence, I was shocked to find myself attracted to this woman at first glance, possessed by an unknown quality.
“Haha, very funny.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyways, what brings you to Nice?”
"The convention, obviously." I paused, concealing the real reason for my visit. Most people were uncomfortable with morbid discussions. Although Maya didn’t strike me for most people, I was in no headspace to divulge.
Instead, I shifted our conversation to more neutral topics like religion, politics, and the middle east.
The inauspicious theme didn’t deter Maya, who passionately argued with me over politics and theology, giving me an unobstructed view of her scholarly mind. More astonishing was her ability to redirect the exchange to safer territories.
"What kind of music do you like?"
“You first.”
