Whoops, kind of zoned for awhile there didn't I? I totally forgot I had even written this until I was cleaning out my computer and happened across it. Hehe. There were some comments about the fact that Gemma was too short and she went to an all girls college, but whatever, it's not like I'm Libba Bray and actually have to remember all of the correct details. I always pictured Gemma as shorter and spunky for some reason. But, seeing as I have mentioned that I am not Libba that tells you all that I do not own The Gemma Doyle trilogy.
James and I walked from the campus to the club café and found a cosy booth in a corner. After I had seated myself, James walked over to the counter to get us each a tea and a piece of pie. I glanced around the café. There were many other couples and groups of friends gathered in the café who all seemed to be around the same age as James and myself.
I turned my focus to the décor of the room. The walls had had a light flowered wallpaper on the top half, and a dark oak paneled lower half. The walls are filled with photographs and paintings of both New York and London. Just to the left of where I am sitting is a picture of the queen. The austere old woman makes me feel homesick and causes my stomach to do a flip. She reminds me of Spence, and all of the preparation that I, felicity and the other girls had to go through in order to bow down at her feet. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, attempting to adjust the waistband of my skirt, which of late has been feeling tighter than usual.
"Gemma, are you all right?"
I look away from the picture of my queen and snap away from my memories to face James, who had sat down across from me with a look of concern on his face. He held out a tea cup to me with the look of worry still plastered in his face and slid a small plate across the table. I am confused when I see only one piece of this world famous ie sitting on the table. James sees the confusion on my face.
"They only had the one piece left, so I got it for you. You still haven't told me what is wrong with you."
I shake my head. "I'm fine, just staring off into space is all. You don't have to give me this you know," I gesture to the pie " it's you that really wants it."
"How about we split it?" he says, holding up two forks. I smile an take one. I slowly and carefully take a bite of the apple pie. It truly is the best thing that I have ever tasted. My eyes widen as the sensation works through my mouth. James obviously sees my new found love, and pushes the plate fully towards me and sets his fork down. I have no objection to this and dig into it, eating like I have never eaten before. James just laughs and sips his tea and leans on his hand. Once I have practically licked the plate clean I reach out for my tea, which has cooled to the perfect temperature.
I sighed as I took a sip of my tea. James attention had been drawn out the window, where two men seemed to be fighting over a horse. I studied James' concentrated features. He was handsome, there was no denying that. His deep blue eyes almost seemed to dance when the sun hit them just right. His features seemed almost perfect, chiseled, but not hard. And his lips, parted ever so slightly…..
"So, what made you decide to pursue the written word in your continuation of education miss Doyle?"
I moved my gaze quickly from his mouth back up his face to his eyes. I lean back and think for a moment. I had never really considered why I had chosen English and the written word. It had just seemed a natural choice. I sat back a moment and thought as James peered over the edge of his tea cup at me. "I guess…. I guess I have a story to tell, and I want to learn of other peoples stories, stories that may help me gain courage to tell my own."
"And what would that story be?"
I sighed and looked down at my lap. "Mr. Middleton, I'm not sure if Iknpw you quite well enough to share my story with you. Anyways, if I did tell you, you wouldn't believe me. You would probably just laugh….Blast!" I had glanced at the clock, realizing it was nearly five, and we had been talking for hours! "I'm supposed to meet my friend at her dorm in five minutes! I must go, thank you for the pie!" I screeched and ran as lady like as possible back to the dormitories to meet my new friend Gabrielle, leaving James to stare in amazement at my retreating figure.
The club Café is a real place with really good pie. I don't know if it exists anywhere outside of southern Alberta, but it was big at the turn of the century. They also have good soup.