This chapter is dedicated to my ever-supportive friend. I told her I was going to write a full fanfiction. She laughed.
But this is chapter eight, so... ha! Enjoy, all!
When William made his way slowly out of the theatre, George at his side and chattering elatedly per usual, he didn't imagine Julia to be waiting for him. She was, after all, internationally famed, and seemed to be exceedingly busy. Why on earth would she waste her precious time in Toronto- he had gathered that the city meant quite a bit to her, thanks to his roommate's seemingly endless stash of magazines- with him, of all people? He nodded to himself as he walked, George's attempts at conversation simply floating in one ear and drifting out of the other. She'd have rushed off into a waiting car, eager to escape the masses of fans awaiting her exit, and though William was disappointed at his conclusion, he didn't at all blame her. He valued his own privacy far too greatly to be irritated at Julia for wanting to protect and preserve her own. Eyes glued to his feet, he continued along the walkway, slipping past the thick, long line of people unnoticed. Disappointment welled up inside of him, leaving a dull bitter taste upon his tongue, and even when George pulled to an unexpected halt, he maintained his brisk pace. "Come on, George," William called, allowing his tone to take on a sharp edge. "There's no point in lingering. The crowd will be dispersing soon, and then they'll be on us."
There was no reply to this, and William, grinding his teeth, turned on his heel. "George-"
Julia raised her eyebrow, looking mildly surprised. "What put you in such a terrible mood, William?" she asked, tilting her head just slightly. "Did you truly not enjoy the film?"
She was standing behind George, who had frozen in place and wore a look of- almost comical- astonishment. He recovered little by little, looking between William and Julia with confusion, his eyes still large and his brow furrowed in a puzzled manner.
Julia, it seemed, had slipped out of her rather long and fluffy dress. She was adjourned in simple dark pants and an oversized sweater whose print William could not read in the darkness. He wasn't surprised to see that the majority of her face was hidden in dusky shadow, shielded by the stretched hood, though the reddish-colored hair spilling onto her shoulders somewhat gave the game away. "Were you leaving?" Julia demanded, sounding very put-out. "I thought that we were going to meet after the film concluded?"
William's eyes widened fractionally; he had a strong feeling that making Julia angry was not the safest of situations. She seemed to be the type who would take self-defense or archery classes in her free time, and William had no desire to end up with the spear of an arrow in his stomach. He smiled a little at the exaggeration of these thoughts, but sobered himself quickly as Julia's eyes flashed dangerously. "I didn't spot you," he said, very ineffectually, gesturing to the scene around him. "I thought…"
"Please. I was behind you the entire time! You didn't even pause to look! Didn't it occur to you that I may have been delayed; that you should have waited a few moments before concluding that I had disappeared?" she asked, her tone still drenched with annoyance.
"I… ah…" William struggled to find the words that would perfectly describe his actions, and then became acutely aware of George, still watching the pair of them as if their conversation was an avidly interesting tennis match. "Er… George, may I introduce Julia Ogden," he said, phrasing it as if it were a question.
Julia's expression softened almost instantly and she held out her hand, moving forward so that she was parallel to George. "It's nice to meet you," she said earnestly, even smirking a bit at some furtive thought. "I heard it was really you who won the tickets to tonight."
George recovered from his stupefied state remarkably promptly, shaking her hand enthusiastically, though his tone was still partially bemused. "Yes, it was," he replied with a wide smile. "Will didn't want me to enter, but I did it anyway. I know how much he loves your films; he never misses one! He-"
"George," William hissed, under his breath, shooting his friend an exasperated glare. His cheeks had to be burning red by now; the light pooling from the streetlamp above now seemed to be betraying him, and so he turned away for a moment.
Julia looked amused. "Is that so? I'm highly flattered," she said with a grin. "And what about you, George? What kind of movies do you enjoy?"
George shrugged modestly. "I'm not really a movie person. I like reading books- I'm a novelist, you see. Working on a novel currently." His face was suddenly animated, his eyes shining with the energy that he always seemed to possess.
"Oh, really? May I ask- what is your novel about?" Julia asked, sounding quite intrigued.
"Well…. I've written several. My most recent is about dinosaurs. I've been doing a lot of research- I learn much through my readings- and then I watched Jurassic Park. I was terrified! I couldn't even make it to the end of the movie! And so, I thought, what if the same thing were to happen… but in Toronto? It is possible, you know," George said, earnestly, his dark eyes serious. "I, for one, believe that dinosaurs still exist… somewhere. In my novel, scientists have been experimenting with dinosaurs that they discovered, tampering with their DNA… and giving these dinosaurs super powers. One of them can shoot lasers out of its eyes."
Julia's face seemed impassive, though William thought that he could see her eyes twinkling brightly. "Of course! That's ingenious, George. Maybe-" her voice dropped into a whisper "-your theory is correct. Maybe our government is developing these dinosaurs as creatures of war, breeding them to wreak havoc on any enemies they may have."
"That's exactly what I was thinking!" George replied, excitement elevating his voice.
William groaned quietly, wanting very much to bury his head in his hands. "Please, Julia. Don't encourage him. I'll be hearing about government conspiracies and laser-beam dinosaurs for weeks," he muttered, with a sigh. Looking up, he found that Julia was regarding him carefully, biting her lip as not to laugh and twisting the lengthy scarf she now held in her hands.
"All right," she said with another smile. "So, have you decided when you're going to buy me that coffee?"
"Tonight?" William suggested, almost immediately, his heart beginning to pound wildly in his chest. He still couldn't quite believe that this was happening- half of him still waited for this bizarre dream to reach its conclusion- and after a heartbeat of silence; he bitterly regretted his impulsive words. Was he ready to talk to Julia Ogden, one-on-one? Shouldn't he have some sort of preparation? How would he know what to say? His throat suddenly dry, he opened his mouth once more. "I-"
"Not tonight." Julia's voice was deeply apologetic; she swung around as if looking for observers. "It's late, and these kind of events always wipe me right out. I might nod off and fall into my coffee- that happened once. The pictures spread across the Internet like a wildfire." She winced, seemingly at the painful memory, and then gave him another searching look. "How about two days from now? I have press obligations tomorrow."
"Two days from now sounds great," William said, automatically, exhaling in relief. Two days was enough time to brace himself and prepare. The word prepare struck a humorous chord within him- he was reminded of George's first date with former girlfriend Tess Moffat. The pair had met during a police investigation and gotten along well; regardless of this, George had been absolutely terrified of their first date. He had gone so far as to prepare conversation topics on Sticky Notes, much to William's amusement. He still hadn't the faintest idea why George had gone to such bother- the man never seemed to stop talking about something or other; surely finding discussion with a girl that he already got along with would not be difficult. Now, though, with his own 'date' approaching, William felt that he could understand his friend's fear. When Julia was around, his mind always seemed to be wiped blissfully blank. Even now, he stumbled over his words, attempting in vain to find a response. Would she find him boring? Their lives were so different, black and white, sharply, contrasted… was it possible that she shared at least some of his interests?
"Great," Julia repeated. "Same Tim Hortons? 1:00?"
He nodded mechanically, still unable to say anything at all.
There was a fairly awkward silence, and then Julia nodded. "I'd better be off. George, make sure you keep writing that novel. I'd definitely like to hear more about it." She turned around, straightened out her hood, and then gave a little half-wave before walking briskly away, toward the center of the city, where the brightest of lights twinkled, piercing the dark blue of the night. William watched until her figure was long out of sight, and then turned himself. "Come on, George."
"Henry is never going to believe this," muttered George, under his breath, moving to follow.
William smiled wryly. "I'm counting on it."