crusty roll. The waiter gave my selection a disapproving glance from behind his
little pad. I couldn’t care less what he thought. I needed comfort of some sort and if there was a slim chance a soup and coffee breakfast combo was going to do it, then bring on the ladle.
I sat back and watched the mayhem. I imagined it was probably
the same customers in here every week, with the same staff ignoring them, and the same huffs and mutters being thrown around. It was almost soothing to be surrounded by such superficial chaos.
I pulled out my art diary and tried to sketch, but I kept getting distracted by the family sitting closest to me. He was reading the morning paper. She was giving their toddler pieces of toast and jam, which the little girl proceeded to wipe all over her face and the wall behind. The woman laughed as the toddler squealed, and he
couldn’t help peeking over the top of his paper every few seconds to watch them, admiring the view.
That’s what it was supposed to be like. Two people meet, fall in love, and then do normal things. I knew now that I’d never have normal again, especially with Lincoln. He was a Grigori and glad of it. I could see in him that it wasn’t just something he did; it was who he was. It was a cruel truth to be faced with, that I had cared so much for him yet had never known the very thing that defined 94
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Embrace
him. I had shared myself with him completely and in return had
not even been trusted with the highlights.
I tried to distract myself again and noticed a guy sitting on the other side of the room. He was facing my direction, and I caught him watching me before his eyes darted away. He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I was struck by his hair, of all things— at first look, it appeared black, but then I saw other colors rippling through it, shades of purple and silver. It reminded me of a rough opal. I wondered how a hairdresser could have managed such a
complex blend of streaks. It was beautiful and…vain.
He looked straight at me. Shit . It was my turn to be caught staring. I averted my eyes to the table and luckily my soup arrived to offer the perfect distraction. Maybe someone was taking pity on me out there.
Starving, I dunked pieces of my bread roll and shoveled them
into my mouth, only pausing to coat the top of the soup with
more salt and pepper, my weakness. I finished the meal quickly, enjoying the menial task of feeding myself and wondering what
kind of disgusted look my waiter would give me if I ordered
another serving.
When he came over to clear the plates, I settled for ordering
another latte. I had nowhere else to go. I chanced another peek at the guy with the opal hair. He was watching me, and our eyes met again. Normally, I’d be quick to look away, but there was something about him.
He stood up, still watching me, and started walking in my direction .
95
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11/30/11 4:32 PM
Jessica shirvington
Shit, shit, shit .
My mind raced, thinking of things to say to make him go away.
I’ve always hated these moments. I’ve never been one for “make
nice with the stranger.” Then he was there, standing in front of me, and I still hadn’t thought of a thing to say.
He was deceptively tall, dressed in jeans and a dark gray T- shirt.
He cleared his throat and I blushed. I was gawking, but not because I was into him; I wasn’t interested in him at all. But his hair…and something else…affected me.
“I’m Phoenix,” he said with a knowing smile. “I thought we
could share a table.” He gestured to the other tables, which were now mostly full. “It seems to be getting busy, and since we’re both alone…” He gave a half smile along with a slight squint of his eyes, as if daring me to say yes.
I didn’t bite. “Look…Phoenix? I’ve had the kind of week night-
mares are made of. Right now, I’d be the worst company in the
world.” I looked back
little pad. I couldn’t care less what he thought. I needed comfort of some sort and if there was a slim chance a soup and coffee breakfast combo was going to do it, then bring on the ladle.
I sat back and watched the mayhem. I imagined it was probably
the same customers in here every week, with the same staff ignoring them, and the same huffs and mutters being thrown around. It was almost soothing to be surrounded by such superficial chaos.
I pulled out my art diary and tried to sketch, but I kept getting distracted by the family sitting closest to me. He was reading the morning paper. She was giving their toddler pieces of toast and jam, which the little girl proceeded to wipe all over her face and the wall behind. The woman laughed as the toddler squealed, and he
couldn’t help peeking over the top of his paper every few seconds to watch them, admiring the view.
That’s what it was supposed to be like. Two people meet, fall in love, and then do normal things. I knew now that I’d never have normal again, especially with Lincoln. He was a Grigori and glad of it. I could see in him that it wasn’t just something he did; it was who he was. It was a cruel truth to be faced with, that I had cared so much for him yet had never known the very thing that defined 94
Embrace_FinalINT.indd 94
11/30/11 4:32 PM
Embrace
him. I had shared myself with him completely and in return had
not even been trusted with the highlights.
I tried to distract myself again and noticed a guy sitting on the other side of the room. He was facing my direction, and I caught him watching me before his eyes darted away. He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place him. I was struck by his hair, of all things— at first look, it appeared black, but then I saw other colors rippling through it, shades of purple and silver. It reminded me of a rough opal. I wondered how a hairdresser could have managed such a
complex blend of streaks. It was beautiful and…vain.
He looked straight at me. Shit . It was my turn to be caught staring. I averted my eyes to the table and luckily my soup arrived to offer the perfect distraction. Maybe someone was taking pity on me out there.
Starving, I dunked pieces of my bread roll and shoveled them
into my mouth, only pausing to coat the top of the soup with
more salt and pepper, my weakness. I finished the meal quickly, enjoying the menial task of feeding myself and wondering what
kind of disgusted look my waiter would give me if I ordered
another serving.
When he came over to clear the plates, I settled for ordering
another latte. I had nowhere else to go. I chanced another peek at the guy with the opal hair. He was watching me, and our eyes met again. Normally, I’d be quick to look away, but there was something about him.
He stood up, still watching me, and started walking in my direction .
95
Embrace_FinalINT.indd 95
11/30/11 4:32 PM
Jessica shirvington
Shit, shit, shit .
My mind raced, thinking of things to say to make him go away.
I’ve always hated these moments. I’ve never been one for “make
nice with the stranger.” Then he was there, standing in front of me, and I still hadn’t thought of a thing to say.
He was deceptively tall, dressed in jeans and a dark gray T- shirt.
He cleared his throat and I blushed. I was gawking, but not because I was into him; I wasn’t interested in him at all. But his hair…and something else…affected me.
“I’m Phoenix,” he said with a knowing smile. “I thought we
could share a table.” He gestured to the other tables, which were now mostly full. “It seems to be getting busy, and since we’re both alone…” He gave a half smile along with a slight squint of his eyes, as if daring me to say yes.
I didn’t bite. “Look…Phoenix? I’ve had the kind of week night-
mares are made of. Right now, I’d be the worst company in the
world.” I looked back
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