-Day 6-

I step back from my drafting table and ponder my drawing. I think I'm done. It's two p.m. on a Friday and I've just finished my design for the recreation center.

So tempting to be done for the day. I set my pencil down and lean back, stretching my back.

I still have to make the model, but there's no way I'm starting that today. My phone blips, a notification that it's my turn in one of my games.

I look over at my phone. I haven't heard from Guinevere today. I need to make some sort of contact each day.

I lean over and grab it, deciding to text her.

A: Guess what?

I set the phone down, not knowing when she'll reply. She might be busy. She might be at an appointment or something. I have no idea what she's doing right now.

I find myself wishing that I knew. I stare into space, and the memory of her little bum-shaking celebratory dance floats through my brain, and a smile crosses my face. Then my phone buzzes.

G: What?

A: I finished my design for the rec center.

G: Congrats!

A: Are you busy? Thinking of skiving off early now that I've finished this part.

G: Busier than a dragon with two piles of gold

I laugh. She's clever. I like that.

A: Maybe I'll hang about here and pantomime working, then.

G: I'm free for dinner. Not cooking for you yet, though.

I frown. I actually have to go to my father's tonight for dinner. I do try not to think about this day. I don't know why he always wants me to come over. Well, I do, actually, but it doesn't make it any less uncomfortable.

A: I am expected at Father's tonight for dinner, sadly.

I get no immediate reply. She did say she was busy. I'm sure that's the reason.

Her reply comes five minutes later.

G: Okay.

G: Sorry about the wait. Had something that needed my undivided attention for a few.

A: That's okay.

G: Dinner with Daddy, then?

A: Hurrah. :|

G: No fun, hey?

A: Not really.

I pause, trying to decide if I should tell her why I'm expected. What the hell.

A: It's the anniversary of my mother's death, actually. He always wants me to come over on this date.

G: So sorry for you. Is it very difficult?

A: More uncomfortable. I think it's a strange occasion to mark.

G: Usually I just go to the cemetery. My parents are both dead. I bring them flowers and talk to them a little.

This is news. I had no idea. She knew who my father was, so she probably knew that my mother was dead. It's almost common knowledge in Camelot.

A: I'm sorry, I had no idea.

G: It's okay. You would have no way of knowing.

G: I had a brother, too. He died in the wyvern attack. Same one that demolished the hospital.

My stomach drops. I distinctly remember referring to that event as the "stupid wyvern attack" on Sunday. Her brother was killed in that attack, and there I was being flippant about it.

A: I'm really sorry.

G: It was a stupid wyvern attack, indeed.

I stare at the screen. She remembered what I said. She's not offended. Of course, she knows I didn't know, and she didn't mention it at the time.

A: I feel like a twat for saying that now.

G: Don't. You were correct. And again, you didn't know.

A: You are too kind.

G: No, I'm not.

A: Are too.

G: Am not.

A: Are too.

I'm sitting at my desk, laughing like an idiot. My phone goes quiet again. She must be busy again.

G: Am not.

This comes in a few minutes later, and I start laughing again. I'll let her have the last word.

A: Are you busy tomorrow night?

G: I have nothing planned at the moment.

A: Interested at all in seeing Thunderhawk?

G: That's the new Sebastian Bartlett movie, right?

A: Yes. If you'd rather something else, that's fine, too.

G: No, I'd like to see Thunderhawk. The new guy they have playing Bartlett is hot.

I snort. Fast-paced spy movie with amazing cars and cool gadgets and all she can say is "the new guy is hot."

At least she's not going to drag me to a chick flick. I've seen far too many of those. I've got so much experience with romantic comedies that I can usually predict the ending before the opening credits finish.

A: I'll check the showtimes and get back to you.

G: Okay.

G: Can I see your design? Take a pic and send it to me?

I can do that. I fire up the camera and take a picture of the color drawing, the one I just finished, showing the front elevation of the building, and send it.

G: That is really cool! I like the columns. They anchor the whole thing.

I am impressed. The columns are the key to the entire design, and she got that right away. Of course, she is a designer as well, just on a much smaller scale.

A: Thank you. I wanted the columns, so I did those first and created the design around them.

G: Are you going to do one of those little models, too?

A: That's my next project. Will tackle that starting Monday.

G: Can't wait to see it. :)

A: I think that can be arranged.

G: Promise?

A: Promise. I'll let you get back to your two piles of gold now.

G: Down to one and a half, now.

A: See you tomorrow.

G: Can't wait.

I set my phone down and walk to the window, looking down at the street below. It occurs to me that with no family, at least I don't have to worry about an irate brother or father wanting to pound me once I break her heart. It's happened once or twice.

I hate it when thoughts like that pop into my head.