Demure: (adj) quiet and polite.
Chris
Another two weeks? I groaned to myself as I hung up the phone. That's how long I have to wait until someone can come around to set up my internet. It's Sunday morning. I have nothing to do. No one will want to hang out on a Sunday morning at the last minute.
As I was passing the time playing a video game I've already completed twice, I remember Alex's words. I felt a little bad about using her for her internet, but it's not like I'm just going to sit over there and ignore her. There's something about her demeanor that lures me in. If that doesn't work, I guess I'll be spending my days at Starbucks or something.
"Hey," Alex said. "Chris, right?"
"Yeah," I said. We exchanged a little small talk in the doorway before she asked if I was here for the internet. "If that was an empty gesture, I totally get it, but I'm literally so bored right now."
Alex opened the door and told me to come in.
Her flat is the exact same layout as mine, other than being reversed. Through, I could barely see the resemblance since her flat is cluttered with books strung out on every table, cups and sat unwashed by the sink, unruly amounts of blackened coffee-stained spoons lay all over the counters and coffee table, and an overflowing laundry pile peeked out from inside the closet. Even a bunch of shoes missing their laces had been scattered all over the floor. It was dirty by any means, but it was definitely cluttered.
"You can sit anywhere." She pointed to an empty armchair. "There." She then pointed to the couch. "There." She pointed to the armchair across from the first one with a tiny tuxedo cat curled up on the seat. "But not there. That's Charlie's spot."
Everywhere I looked, there seemed to be unimaginable amounts of cat hair. She noticed my concern and handed me a lit roller and walked away. She emerged from the kitchen a few moments later with two drinks in hand. Alex grabbed her laptop and took a seat in front of Charlie.
Charlie was a small cat that felt like a cloud when I pet her. She was missing an eye but it didn't seem to slow her down. Above her mouth was a little black spot, which I commented looked like a Hitler mustache, but Alex said she was named after Charlie Chaplin because she's not evil.
Just as the last time I spoke to her, I didn't say much. I spent most of my time doing nothing of importance on the internet. At around three in the afternoon, Alex said she had to go. She told me that on the weekends, she tutors her friend's younger siblings. She invited me to go with her, to which I agreed since there isn't really anything better I could be doing. We took a few minutes to change out of our pyjamas and then we left our building, heading towards the bus stop. Eventually, the bus jerked to a stop in front of us and we boarded.
"So," I asked, trying to break the ice, "what brings you to London?"
"Beats me, honestly," she said like it was nothing. "I'm from a tiny little ice cube in the middle of nowhere. I just really needed a change of scenery. Leaving the country is a little drastic but I thought it was a nice opportunity."
"Where are you from?"
"Yellowknife. Pretty far up north in Canada. Well, I'm from Manitoba, originally, but I spent my teenage years in Yellowknife. What about you?"
I was right. She's Canadian.
"I'm from the north too," I laughed. "Maybe not as far north, but pretty northern for England."
After walking past some affluent homes, Alex stopped in front of a pair of golden gates and pressed the button next to the voice box until we heard a buzz and gates opened. We walked up the winding path until we reached a huge pure-white front door. We stood there for a few seconds before an older woman opened the door and let us in. The stranger called Alex by her full name which didn't sound right to me.
While Alex helped the two boys with their piano lessons, their sister came over and started talking to me like an old friend. She hadn't even introduced herself before she asked how I knew Alex.
"We leave across from each other. What about you?"
"We had a class together. I'm Chloe, by the way. I was having trouble in my maths class and she really helped me bring it up."
"Oh, well then," I said simply because I didn't know how to respond. "I'm Chris."
"Yeah, that's cool."
After that, Chloe left me alone. But, thankfully, the hour went by quickly and before I knew it, Alex was helping me pack up my laptop and we were back on the bus.
Alex
"Oh, Alexandrine!" Mrs. Cardelli gushed as she opened the door.
"Hello, Mrs. Cardelli," I said. "This is my friend, Chris. I hope you don't mind."
"Nice to meet you Chris. I'm Jessica," Mrs. Cardelli said as she shook his hand. She then turned to me. "Emily is in her room. I'll send for her."
Chris and I walked into the piano room. I helped him set up his laptop while we waited for the princess to come down. No lie when I say Mrs. Cardelli calls Emily "The Princess". I assured him I won't stay past the hour as I set up my music sheets.
"So, Cardelli? Like the property owners?" Chris asked while I was flipping through the book to figure out where I last left off.
"Yeah. Mr. Cardelli is her husband. After he retired I guess he got bored and bought a bunch of properties and renovated them to keep himself occupied. Rich people are so weird."
After a few minutes, Emily and her sister, Chloe (who's actually a good friend and the only reason why I live in such a nice apartment), came into the room.
Emily is like twelve. I don't understand why her parents are forcing her to learn piano and violin when she obviously doesn't want to. Each time I practice with her, I spend pretty much the whole hour telling her to stop banging on the keys and messing around. She doesn't listen and she doesn't want to learn. Thankfully, after Emily, her brother, Luke, who's sixteen, comes in and is much easier to handle. He obviously doesn't want to learn either but we suffer together.
Tutoring snotty rich ids is so much worse than it seems. But they pay three times more than my waitressing job for the same amount of time. It's worth it to suffer a few hours a week just to be able to pay my bills. After the full hour was up, Chris and I left and headed back to building before parting ways. I tried texting Adrian again, but, like always, he didn't respond. I hate being alone