"Gray is such an ass," Claire says, drumming her fingers on the table in front of her impatiently. It's been two days since their latest blowout, and she's still exhaustingly mad. "He always thinks that he knows everything."
Ann gazes at the shine in the tables, her frowning reflection staring back at her. "I just wiped that," she says, swatting Claire's hand away to polish the spot again.
"A total and complete jerk!" Claire exclaims, ignoring her. "Like, can't he just get off my back for once?!"
"Jesus, what exactly did he say?" Karen asks, seated at the table across from them. Popuri stands next to her, papers scattered around them in disastrous, messy piles. They're busy drawing out the floor plan for Karen's wedding next week.
Claire's face gets hot. "That guys like Trent only want to get…" She looks away, too self-conscious to finish.
"…Get?" Popuri asks expectantly.
"Get in my panties." She doesn't even want to repeat his real words out loud. Why does he have to be such an unrefined piece of crap?
Karen looks at her dubiously. "Oh, come on. Gray must have said more than just that."
Claire chews on her cheek. "Uhm-"
"He probably told you that this guy just wants your pussy," Ann guesses, her brow arched.
Claire looks away awkwardly. "Yeah, you hit the nail on the head there."
"That does sound like something he'd say. Just don't take it so personal," Karen replies. She's halted her concentration from her paper for a moment, shrugging at Claire and tossing her dirty blonde highlights behind her. "Gray's got a really bad way of showing that he cares."
Claire scowls. "He's probably the biggest hypocrite I've ever met." It was almost comical to hear him talk about "the only thing that guys want," while proclaiming that he was a special snowflake who didn't think that way at all. Some friend... he's such a phoney jerk!
The girls sigh at her, not ready for another Gray-filled tangent.
"I'm changing the subject, so you're all welcome in advance," Popuri says with a giggle. "When do we get to meet this doctor?" She walks over to throw a scribbled sheet in the wastebasket by the bar, stopping to jab Claire with her elbow.
Her eyes shine brightly. "Soon," she responds dreamily. "I'm actually seeing him in a couple of hours at the clinic, and then we're coming down here together."
"Hopefully there's no medical emergency tonight," Ann mumbles, scrubbing unnecessarily hard at the already-pristine table. Her actions seem incredibly aggressive.
Karen makes a face. "I dunno, Claire. You may not wanna hear this, but I think that Gray might have a point."
Claire scowls. "Don't tell me that you're on his side!"
"As if! Look, I'm just saying, you're super young. Isn't it weird for a guy that much older to be taking you out?"
Ever since Gray popped this thought into her head, Claire hasn't seemed to rid herself of it. But the people who doubt Trent are totally wrong in her eyes, because they don't know how sweet of a guy he is.
"Honestly, I'm still not sure how to feel about it all, but he's just so incredible. I mean, he said that I was beautiful, and smart, and even mature for my age." Claire clasps her hands, absentmindedly gazing at the ceiling in awe.
Ann blinks. "Doesn't saying 'mature for your age' mean that this guy knows you're too young for him?" She puts her hands on her hips, waiting keenly for an answer from Claire.
What a buzzkill. Claire groans. "Look, take my word for it. Once you guys meet him, you'll see how romantic and perfect he is."
Does it still worry her that Trent is twenty-five?
Sort of.
But how could anyone fake that much charisma and kindness? Her friends would just have to see Trent's charm for themselves.
"Well, the way he came to your farm to 'fix the problem' sounded like total gaslighting to me," argues Ann, wiping at a bead of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand.
But Claire doesn't hear her; she's already on her way out the door.
"Later!" she calls, snatching her knapsack from the chair beside Popuri. She runs toward the inn doors to ready herself for the date.
"Don't forget about my wedding rehearsal tomorrow at church!" Karen shouts. Halfway out the door, Claire turns to nod at her in understanding, before leaving
"Is it bad that I'm still rooting for her and Gray?" Ann asks, staring absently at the door. When she saw Gray yesterday after work, he looked as though he couldn't care less about the whole situation. But she's well aware that this is a complete front.
"Yes," Popuri says, tossing one of her many pink curls over her shoulder. "Those two are a disaster, and you know it."
But Ann doesn't know it. There's no way that some appealing doctor in his mid-twenties could be a better fit for Claire than the cynical, temperamental, anti-social blacksmith next door.
She then repeats this sentence back in her head over and over, inwardly face-palming at how obviously wrong she is.
But Claire and Gray's chemistry is undeniable. How can they both be so impossible?!
"They better find a way to be civil again," Karen remarks, examining her fuchsia nail polish casually. "'Cause they're partnered to walk down the aisle together for my wedding." She shrugs, a coy smile playing on her lips.
Ann smiles at her friend. "Practice tomorrow's sure gonna be interesting."
Trent really is everything that Claire described him as, and more. Ann takes note of this immediately as they walk into the inn later on that evening. He holds the door open for her like a gentleman, and offers to hang up her jacket immediately upon entrance. Ann watches Claire's eyes dart toward the coat check closet for a brief moment, but her gaze quickly returns to her date in front of her.
"Hiya, Claire, who's your friend here?" As if she doesn't know. Ann adjusts her apron as she walks over to them.
"Ann, this is Trent," Claire says, gesturing towards her date. The doctor is also as handsome as Claire described, too; Trent looks like he just stepped off a male-fashion runway. He wears a crisp button-up shirt with a mustard-coloured sweater vest on top, and a pair of nice slacks. Weirdly enough, he still has a stethoscope strewn around his neck, though. Can Ann count this as an internal strike against him?
"I've heard so much about you, Ann. It's wonderful to meet you," Trent says in a surprising Southern drawl, closing his hand over hers. Why are his hands so damn smooth? Is this another strike?
Maybe I'm just being too critical.
"You as well!" Ann replies, trying to be as polite as possible without her eye twitching. He looks like the kind of guy who really cares about his appearance; the kind that doesn't like to get his hands dirty. She feels so unkempt next to him. "Let me seat you two." Leading them to their table in front of the bar, she ponders. Sooner or later, I'll find something wrong with him, right? I normally has a knack for that kinda stuff.
Claire seems shocked to see Popuri and Kai, as well as Rick and Karen, eagerly seated on the bar stools in front of her. "Hi guys!" she exclaims, her voice filled with disbelief. "What are you all doing here?"
Did Ann forget to tell Claire that she's gathered some watchful scouts for tonight, too? How foolish of her.
"Drinking," admits Kai, cheers-ing his glass in their direction. "How's it going?"
Claire chews on the inside of her cheek, the way that she does when she's nervous. "Um, this is Trent, everyone. Trent, this is Kai, Popuri, Karen, and Rick."
"We're Claire's spies," says Karen, downing back the shot in front of her.
"She's kidding," Rick assures, gingerly sipping on his almost-empty glass of water.
"She's really not," Popuri chimes in.
The doctor nods, smiling at them. "Nice to meet you all." If he's annoyed by their unexpected presence, he definitely isn't showing it. Trent lovingly pulls out Claire's chair for her before she sits down. She gives Ann a baffled look, which makes her realize that this form of spying is far too abrupt and will never work.
"All right, enough terrorizing these two… lovebirds. Let's get you all seated," Ann says, motioning for the group to get off of the stools. Despite there being tons of room to sit elsewhere, due to the inn being completely empty tonight, she still puts her friends relatively close to Trent and Claire's table. She considers this to be very cunning of herself, even though it really isn't.
Ann scrutinizes their date all night, secretly eavesdropping the entire time. She checks in with her friends, and they each relay the same information: that Trent is impossibly normal. He orders a normal salad with a glass of wine for dinner, eats like a normal person, and laughs with Claire normally. Periodically, Ann watches him reach across the table to touch her hand tenderly. He seems as respectful and sweet as Claire painted him out to be.
What is your problem? Can't you just be happy for your friend?
No. She can't. How can she, when Gray isn't the one seated across from Claire tonight?
Ann trudges over to fill up Claire's water glass once more. She asks Trent if he wants a refill on wine, but gives him one anyway, before he has time to respond. Maybe that'll make him a little less boring.
Before the two bid everyone a goodnight, Trent places some money on the table when Ann brings the bill. She hears Claire offer to chip in for the tip, and he actually agrees. The nerve! Can she count that as a strike, along with Trent's refusal to touch any carbs during dinner? He actually asked for his salad without croutons!
Albeit, these strikes are all small and miniscule. Just like her patience for this evening
As Trent walks her home, he laces his fingers through Claire's. "I had a wonderful time tonight."
Even the look on her friends' faces told Claire that they seemed impressed with Trent, too. Everyone but Ann, who appeared as though nothing phased her all night. On the way home, the two walk past Mineral Blacksmith, and she guiltily realizes that she still has yet to introduce Gray to Trent.
Part of her misses seeing him these last couple of days. Now that she had established their friendship, being away from him due to their incessant fighting doesn't exactly sit well with her. From where they're standing, Claire watches a light flicker on and off in what she knows to be Gray's room.
Is the jerk spying now too? She picks up the pace forcefully, not realizing that she has let go of Trent's hand in the process.
"Slow down!" Trent exclaims. "Are you that eager to end our evening?"
"What?" Claire asks, as if she's lost in a daydream. "Oh, no. Of course not! It's just, I have long day ahead of me tomorrow." She thinks about Karen's wedding rehearsal, realizing that she'll have to get up extra early to complete her farm work in order to make it there on time.
"I suppose that means I won't be coming in?" Trent's voice sounds a tad disappointed.
Oh man, did Claire just hurt his feelings? She prepares to lighten the mood with a sprinkle of her awkward humour. "What are you, a vampire who like, needs to be invited inside?"
"You always manage to see right through me," Trent chuckles. "Another time, then. We'll do my place next." Standing before her front door, he plants a kiss that lingers on Claire's lips for minutes on end. Drawing her closer, his hand snakes against her small waist before it hesitantly lowers. Claire's eyes fly open, but she says nothing. It isn't so bad, to be touched like this, she thinks convincingly. To be pulled this close to another person... to feel them against you. When has she ever been touched in this sort of way? Her heart pounds heavily in her chest, head dizzy with a million thoughts.
"Goodnight, Claire," Trent says, with his smooth face still against hers.
"Night, Trent," Claire murmurs, kissing him again to preserve the evening from ending
Ann reaches into the pocket of her overalls, retrieving the spare key that Gray had left in her room weeks before, during one of their many late-night rendezvous. It's past midnight, and she's standing in front of Mineral Blacksmith, inserting the key into the front door lock. Is it breaking and entering if I've got this? Noiselessly marching inside, Ann makes a quick beeline for Gray's room, knocking gently.
"Good thing you bust through my front door, but got the manners to knock on the door to my room."
Well, at least his voice sounds a lot better.
Gray is standing in the tiny kitchen diagonal from his room, wearing a pair of pajamas while clutching a bowl of cereal in his hands. He places it down gently on the counter beside him in attempt to not make any noise, wiping any milk residue on his face with the back of his hand. Ann dangles the key in his face, and he grabs it from her hastily.
"What are you doing here?" he asks quietly. She just squints at him.
When Ann doesn't answer, his cheeks turn pink. "Um, o-oh. I thought… I mean, I didn't think that you still… Look, Idon't even want to, to be honest. And what about Cliff-?"
"Don't flatter yourself," she finally says in annoyance, holding out her hand. It's been a long night, but Ann needs to get her message across. Through the moonlight, Gray's face looks relieved. She walks over to the kitchen cupboard, pulling out a bowl for herself, gently pouring herself some of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch that's been left out. Her stomach grumbles hungrily; she hasn't eaten since before her shift. "I'm definitely not here for that."
"I see. You're here for my cereal."
"No, Gray," Ann says, picking up a piece of the dry cereal with her fingers, popping it in her mouth. Gray quizzically gestures toward the milk that's on the counter, but she shakes her head in refusal. "This is about Claire."
He looks away bitterly. "I saw her walk by, tonight. She and the doc make a cute couple, huh?"
"Gray, despite all of the fighting that you two do, I know that you really care about her." Ann treads lightly, before saying: "Why don't you tell her how you feel?"
He shoots her a glare. "Why don't you stay the hell outta my business, Ann?"
"There are ways to go about things, and you don't know how to, at all."
"Why don't you leave me alone?" Gray groans. He picks up his bowl again, angrily shovelling the spoon into his mouth. "Claire likes me only as a friend, and that's it. Actually, scratch that. I'm convinced she doesn't even like me at all anymore." He says this with a mouth full of cereal, exuding the true aura of a perfect gentleman.
"Well, you just keep giving her shit."
"I was looking out for her."
Ann makes a face, swallowing her bites of dry cereal. "Look, Gray, I don't get a good vibe from this guy."
His ears seem to perk up a bit. He places the spoon gently in the sink beside him, sipping from his bowl to finish the remnants of milk. "Why, what'd he do?"
"Nothing, that's the thing! He's perfect in every aspect."
Gray groans again. "Well, that's just super."
"I mean, he might be a cheap-ass. And I think that he hates bread."
"Kai said that last part, too. Can't relate."
"Don't you miss Claire?" Ann asks suddenly, like a police officer interrogating a suspect. "Don't you hate being away from her?"
"Of course I do," he answers haughtily, as if this is an obvious question.
"Why?"
"Because."
"Because?"
"Because..."
"Because you love her, Gray."
He turns away, rotating the knob on the sink attentively, a trickle of water spouting out. He rinses his bowl, careful not to make any noise. "I've never been in love before. What makes you so sure?"
It hurts Ann to say this: "I see the way that you look at her. It's like... your eyes light up, and you just, I dunno. You seem so happy when she's around."
Gray shakes his head. "What does it matter? Claire's just my friend. Nothing more."
"If you have feelings for her-"
"Ann, even if I did tell Claire, how could I ever compete with this douchebag? You said it yourself: he's perfect."
"But he's not though!" Ann protests, feeling her voice get a bit too loud. She doesn't want to wake up Saibara and have him think that something is still going on between the two of them. "I mean, he's too perfect! He's definitely hiding something."
"You could say that again."
She frowns. "Huh?"
Gray turns the sink off, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Ann plops herself in the seat across from him, pushing her dry bowl of cereal off to the side. "Do you remember once, when I told you about a young doctor in my city who wouldn't give my mom an MRI?"
Ann contemplates this for a moment, before affirming his words. "Yeah, the one who just kept prescribing painkillers or something?"
Gray nods, saying nothing. He stares at a spot on the wall across the room for a few minutes.
She widens her eyes in realization. "Oh my God."
"Yup."
It's like there's a revelation in front of her very eyes. "It was him? It was Dr. Trent? That was his name?!"
"I didn't even get to know his name back in the city. I didn't give a shit... I never thought I'd see him again." Gray rubs his jaw. "And then he fucking moves here. I mean, what're the odds?"
"Gray, why don't you tell Claire?!"
He stares at her; not angry or anything. He's just wearing an impossibly sad look on his face, like he's reliving his pain all over again. "What does it matter? She didn't even know my mom, and she'd probably just mistake it as an excuse for my jealousy. Plus, people told me to not hold the bastard accountable, 'cause apparently it 'wasn't his fault.'"
"Of course it was!" Ann cries, her heart seized with anguish. She thinks of her own mother, taken too soon from her as a child. If her mom died due to medical neglect, she'd harbour a hatred for whoever was responsible, too. "I knew that something was off about him!"
"Well, besides his inability to diagnose properly, he's also dating a goddamn minor."
They sit there without a noise erupting from either one of them.
"What are you gonna do?" Ann finally whispers.
"Nothing," he answers resentfully. She wonders if this is code for: Love her from afar, but say nothing because of the circumstances. Wouldn't this be a great injustice to not only him, but Claire as well?
"That's shit," Ann argues.
"That's life," Gray says with a shrug. Then, he pauses. "I tried to warn her about dating someone that much older. And if this guy hurts her, I'll break his fucking face. I swear to God. But at the end of the day, if he makes her happy…" His voice trails off dejectedly. "I just want her to be happy."
"Despite everything, I think that she's most happy around you, Gray."
He smiles sadly. "Then I guess Claire can make that decision on her own."
