A gust of cold wind battered the cream paper lanterns hanging from the eaves of a tea house café near campus that Bridget visited very often in the morning. She was panting when she arrived by the glass panel doors, hands clasping her knees as she bent, regaining her breath after running. She loved the activity when she was in primary school because she ran fast and liked to compete with the boys, then hated it when she was in high school because it ruined her perfectly styled hair and wasn't comfortable for her chest area, but lately she had been going back to it, reveling in the wind that slapped her sweating neck and the swish of her ponytail. She tried to be as active as possible, especially since her campus life started and the workload had just doubled in the second week into the semester. She found that she was more confident of her prowess when she liked what she saw in the mirror, so she took off for a run on the mornings she didn't have class, and went to the country club for a swim or tennis or gym session every other day, and resumed her dancing classes since golfing alone wouldn't exactly give her a toned stomach.
A bell jingled overhead when she entered the café, pulling off her rain jacket that was more precautionary than utilization and tying it on her waist. She winced when the bottom of her tennis shoes squeaked hitting the polished floor, thankfully it was muffled by the steady buzz of customers talking over each other. Waiters bustled about a dozen tables, seemingly unaffected by the morning drowsiness outside. As they reached the end of August, the temperature was dropping and Bridget intended to milk as much time as she could running without having to wear a thermal jacket.
"Bonjour!" Jade called as she flounced down straight stairs at the corner of the shop wearing a broad smile."Bienvenue, mon ami," she said as she placed a noisy kiss on Bridget's cheek. Jade always said she felt most at home in her parents' tea shop, which was an exact replica of the one they had in Paris before they moved to America, even down to the type of wicker chairs used and the jazz music playing softly in the background. Bridget could attest to this because she had been to the original Bernard Café, and they had moved simply because Mr and Mrs Bernard were adventurous people.
"Where's Steven?"
"Upstairs, in bed." Jade wiggled her eyebrows, which were almost fully covered by her fringe-Françoise Hardy style-before turning around to walk to the kitchen, placing her apron on, even though Bridget would be the only one she served - her shifts changed every semester but it was usually on weekday nights. Jade didn't live here until it was time for college because it was closer to campus than her suburban home, the same way Bridget had to rent an apartment to move into after her first year in the dorms. They spent the last week of summer before third semester started turning an empty storage room upstairs into a loft. "Heard you're golfing with father-in-law this afternoon?"
"Yeah, jealous?" Bridget handed a girl at the cashier some cash for her order.
"Not as jealous as you'll be, hearing that I'm spending the morning sailing with my boyfriend." Jade pointed a finger accusingly. "Speaking of boyfriends," she said as she handed Bridget a tray with her usual honey lemon and butter croissant for breakfast before pulling off the apron and hung it on a crooked nail, snagging herself a plate of puffs from the display oven. "Are you taking Charles to the park reopening?"
"I think so, and his name is english Charles, not french Charles," she chided.
"Pot, kettle."
"Except the pot won't look over if called kettle, dearie," Bridget replied, placing her tray on her usual spot by the window. "Is there something wrong with taking Charles? Jade," she insisted when her friend busied herself with her puffs, eyes looking everywhere but her direction. "What is it?"
"I thought you're going to take Edward," Jade blurted.
She almost choked on her drink."Why would I take Edward? He's practically a stranger and I have a boyfriend."
Jade shrugged. "You like the looks of him, don't even try to deny it, I know your type," said Jade threateningly."Pretty, medium broad shoulders, dresses classically, and hear, hear, most important: taller than you wearing heels."
Bridget sputtered. "D-Did you read my diary?"
"Maybe, in tenth grade. It broke my heart when you stopped writing, you know, I like knowing all your secrets," her voice dropped into a dramatic whisper. "Anyway, just saying, I won't mind him replacing Charles, whom if I'm correct, is your fake boyfriend."
"He isn't my fake boyfriend," she grumbled.
"He wasn't. The relationship has changed, B, and trying to get back together is like, oh I don't know, gluing a broken vase?"
Bridget bit her lower lip. Her and Charles had been together for a year, they got together last summer at the fourth of July celebration in the Hamptons after bonding over frustration over their respective exes and the experience of being a big fish in a small pond in Rochester. She had to admit it began on a completely physical attraction, but then they got to know each other and she liked this loud boy who went to University of Rochester whom secretly enjoyed writing and reading poems. His love letters consisted of sappy poems and their arguments filled with witty comebacks and intelligent research. She liked him. It seemed that they couldn't get through their latest bump in the road and now they couldn't go forward nor go back, their connection stretched at its limits. "We're stuck," she concluded.
"Exactly. Even your Pa knows what's happening." Which, both Bridget and Jade knew he didn't mind at all. Harold Wilson was in the opinion that everyone has their own experience with romantic relationships. Both Bridget and Charles looked like the perfect picket fence pair that people adore to look at, and Bridget knew Jade wasn't trying to pair her with Edward, it was more Jade trying to get her single professionally so that she could look at other options that doesn't involve being a trophy girlfriend - a very pretty young woman who is intrinsically involved in high society with a bulk of cash in her bank from her inheritance alone.
"Well, we both know it's impolite to dump the host before a big event." But maybe it was time to listen to Jade's suggestion. After all, she had asked eight times now.
"But you've been together long enough to politely break it off with each other after?" Jade's ridiculously long, dark eyelashes fluttered, framing the forest green orbs a certain way when her chin tilted downwards. She had her hands folded neatly together on the table, lips thinned into a straight line. This is the Jade Bernard that earned the title chief-editor for Dexter Paper by winning over the majority of Dexter students with campaigns and vote, who asked for Bridget's help on writing the speech, splattered glue that ruined her bedsheets when they were making a vision board, and asked if she should look sexy or professional in her headshot (to which Bridget had replied, 'why not both?', and then Jade showed off her smoldering gaze to the camera.)
Bridget chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. Européen.
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She waited until his third call during her lunch break before she picked up. "Don't you think it's odd that I'm seeing my boyfriend's dad before seeing my boyfriend?" She mouthed Charles to Jade who was sitting across from her, munching on her fries and frowning deeply. Jade voiced her opinion in freshman year that they weren't french fries.
There was an uncomfortable cough before Charles' answer came. "Sorry Babe, you know I am." His usually orotund voice faltering. "How was the Hamptons?"
Somehow, in a mutual agreement of needing a break, they had both decided to not have any contact during the summer. She was still undecided on her feelings about it. "As always; skinny dipping, underage drinking 'til the wee hours of the morning, charity galas, fancy dinners, pleasing the misters and missus, posing for the pap as an anonymous socialite. You know the drill." She bit in a sigh. "How was Majorca?"
"Hot. Spent a week on bike exploring Serra de Tramuntana and the rest missing you."
She rolled her eyes. The hopeless romantic. "You know what? I think meeting face-to-face before the park reopening will be good."
"Okay. What do you have in mind?"
"Billie gave me Granny's old recipe book when I was there last week. Her vanilla cupcakes sound disastrous enough to me." Katherine Wilson was a mysterious figment of imagination to Bridget— not even her Dad got to know her. Bridget saw her recipe book as a key to figuring out the simplest tells: was she a neat writer? what cuisine did she like the most? was she better at cooking or baking? Bridget's mom sucked at both and so it looked like she got her adequate talent in the kitchen from Nan.
"Okay, when?"
"Tonight, six pm, we're going to get take-outs and then we'll bake." Jade mouthed we'll break. She let out a small laugh.
"I'll see you then. Love ya."
"See ya." She flipped her Motorola shut. She liked this model, much simpler than pressing a button to end a call.
"Aw, bebé, you didn't say 'love you back'? That's sweet." For a moment, all Bridget could see was them back in the school cafeteria, Jade the 'it' girl because she was a cool foreigner who doesn't flinch at nudity and couldn't grasp the concept of monogamy, and Bridget the insider because she dated popular guys from neighbor schools and summer in the Hamptons with Manhattan kids. And look where they were now, in Dexter cafeteria with everybody else who could afford the bank-draining tuition. "I miss high school," Jade sighed.
Bridget raised an eyebrow. "We think scarily alike."
"I know, you have that nostalgia look." Jade pointed her chin at something behind Bridget. "Prince's here, where's the golden carriage?"
Bridget turned around in her seat, smiled fondly at Edward before pointing a finger at Jade. "Rude, Jadey. Lates." She swiped her bag off the floor and slung it over her shoulder. "Let's go," she said, pulling Edward's wrist and dragged him off before Jade could say anything Bridget would be embarassed for for the rest of her teenage life.
It took her to stop hurrying to realize the coldness in her grasp. Quickly, she let it go, both in surprise and in embarrasment. "Sorry, inappropriate."
He briefly smiled, the sides of his golden eyes unmoving. "That's quite alright."
Her mind was whirring with her plans for the rest of the day, half unconscious of what Edward had plucked her out of her cafeteria chair for. Until he took a hold on her sleeve-covered wrist and said, "the ALG meeting is in the library today, Bridget." as he moved them along the stream of students heading the opposite direction.
She looked at him with a dubious expression, blanked, then cleared. "Oh, right." She cleared her throat and poked at the hand that was holding hers. She had a boyfriend.
"Sorry, inappropriate."
Her expression turned murderous. "You sly mouse!"
It was the first time anybody in Dexter heard Edward Cullen snicker, and he made a funny noise that made Bridget laugh.
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