Ch. 6: Coffee Shops are NOT Romantic

I avoided Zelda and Link for the next few days because I was afraid of doing something stupid. It wouldn't be out of my nature to say something dumb completely out of turn. Exhibit A: that Thursday I was sitting in composition class staring at Link, and the whole time I felt like screaming at him for not hitting his father back. And I probably would have, except old Ezlo kept going on and on about drawing ideas from Hyrulian mythology, and I figured it would be pretty rude to interrupt him. One didn't simply interrupt Ezlo. I don't know how to explain it other than it just didn't work that way.

I was on my way to the dining hall when Nabooru halted me in the hallway. It's pretty rare that Nabs acknowledges my existence, so I was rather honored. She was beaming; about what, I didn't know.

"Oh, no, you look downright gleeful," I told her. Her smile just broadened.

"Good news," she said, which sounded like bad news to me. "We had a calculus exam today. I received perfect marks, but Zelda Harkinian's head was in the clouds! She didn't finish the exam and failed—"

"I'm going to stop you right there," I announced, and Nabooru fell silent. "Zelda flunked a test?" I clarified. "As in, she got an F? As in, scored below a 65 because she didn't know what she was doing?"

"That's right!" Nabooru answered, and I didn't know whether to feel pleased or upset. A part of me saw it as a good thing—maybe this would convince Zelda to come down off of her high horse. But most of me was just confused, because it was so unlike her to do poorly at anything.

"Why is that good news?" I finally asked, and Nabs just smirked.

"It's good news because I'm back at the top of my class," she answered. "Zelda's in second!"

Which was good news, I guess, because I wanted to see Nabs at the top of her class. I wanted to see her do well, and get university scholarships, and go to some high-ranking school, because she was a hard worker, even if she ignored her family for it. And sometimes I get upset with her for leaving us all behind, but other times I remember that maybe she didn't always want to.

I think it would have stopped there if Zelda had shown at lunch, but the fact of the matter is that she didn't show at lunch, and she wasn't going to show for the rest of the day, either.

When I asked Malon about it, she just shrugged.

"I haven't seen Zelda since this morning," she informed me. "I wish I knew where she was, but I don't. Link?"

Link just shook his head quietly. "Haven't seen her," he repeated, which sounded like a lie to me, but I wasn't going to press the issue any further. Link looked like something was eating at him, and I didn't want to get into any sort of argument. He already had one swollen eye. Besides, Zelda wasn't here to stop a fight if it broke out, and I wasn't in the mood for any trouble.

(Weird, I know.)

I spent the rest of the day hunting for Zelda outside of class, but like I said, she never turned up. I hoped she wasn't beating herself up over a dumb calc exam. I recalled a time last year when a girl named Ilia failed a biology exam, and she was so upset over it that she cried in the bathroom all afternoon. I asked Nabs if she thought maybe Zelda had been crying in the girls' room since this morning, and she just scoffed at me and told me I was being sexist.

I walked home again that day. I hadn't taken public transport since the weekend, probably because I was afraid of encountering the "magic beans" guy again. As I was leaving the school, Treasure-Wad Tingle tried to sell me a pirated DVD for the small price of my soul, which I declined. It was getting colder and colder out; the air nipped at my skin, and the leaves, dry and crisp, were starting to fall from the trees in swirls. A cold wind bit at my face, and I wrapped my blazer tighter around myself, wondering how I'd afford another winter coat this year; I'd already grown out of last year's.

It was only about four o' clock but the sun was already starting to duck out of sight. I took a detour down Main Street, my shoes slapping rhythmically against the sidewalk as I went, air puffing out of my nostrils in warm clouds, wind nipping and pinching at my nose and cheeks. Most stores usually close around four or five, but the bookshops and cafes like to stay open later because people are still getting out of work. A few dried out leaves swirled past my feet, sweeping down the sidewalk like tumbleweeds. They came to a halt next to a small brick building, and I came to a halt, too, because something interesting had caught my eye.

I took a few steps closer to the building. A sign swinging over the door read Piper's Café. And on the other side of the large glass window, curled up and in plain sight, was Zelda. She didn't see me looking at her because her eyes were downcast. Her cheeks were still pink, suggesting that she'd just gotten out of the cold, and she grasped a steaming cup of coffee close to her lips, maybe hoping that it would warm her up. She was wrapped in a coat and scarf, her blond hair down and pulled back in a headband, and she looked so entirely unlike herself that I couldn't help but make up my mind. I was going in there, because something was clearly wrong.

I pulled open the heavy door, a small bell ringing above my head as I entered. A girl at a counter asked me if she could help me with anything and I just shook my head, passing the counter and making a beeline for Zelda's booth. I slipped into the seat across from her. She still hadn't noticed me, which was very strange. It wasn't until I cleared my throat that she glanced up.

She grimaced. "Not you," she complained, but I wasn't paying attention. Her eyes were rimmed with red.

She had been crying.

"Who was it?" I asked, unable to help myself. "What did they do?"

Zelda was utterly taken aback. "What? It was nobody. Nobody did anything. Leave me alone."

"I mean it," I repeated, not about to fall for her lie. "Tell me, so I can do something about it. Who was it, and what did they do to you?"

Now Zelda just looked offended. "I'm telling you, Ganondorf, I'm fine! I'm a little upset, I scored poorly on an exam, and—"

"This isn't about you flunking a stupid test," I argued. "Now please, tell me, I want to help—"

"Leave me alone, Ganondorf," she warned. "I thought I'd told you to stay away—"

"—I'm not staying away, you're upset, something's wrong, and I want to help," I said. And the thing is, this wasn't about Nabooru's stupid plan to win class president. I wasn't even thinking about that as I sat across from Zelda in that little café on Main Street. I was just thinking about Zelda, who was a real person, with real emotions, who was upset about something. And all I wanted to do was help, and I don't know why.

"I'm not interested," Zelda finally said, which was kind of baffling. "In case you haven't noticed, I don't want to go out with you. I've tried telling you that."

"This isn't about wanting to date you, either," I said. "It's about whether you're okay."

She shook her head, repeated that she didn't want me there, and she even started insulting me. This girl would stop at nothing to make me go away. Then she tried the silent treatment, which sucked.

After a few minutes of it, I sighed. "Fine," I said. "I'm sorry." And I meant it, too. She still refused to look at me, and instead she stared down at her cup. I realized suddenly that her glasses were gone—don't know how I'd missed that—but decided not to bring it up. In hindsight, it's kind of funny that they were gone, because this was the first time that her eyes weren't guarded by them. And she had been crying. And it was like she was opening up, which was weird, because she wasn't.

But it felt like it, and it was enough to soften me.

"I really am sorry," I repeated, the sarcastic undertones gone from my voice. Now Zelda actually looked up, her pale blue eyes almost wide with surprise. She was silent.

"Can I order a drink?" I now asked. "Sit with you for awhile? I promise I won't bother you, I'd just like to—"

"That's fine," she cut in, and I got up to order a coffee, smiling slightly. As I was standing in line, I heard a voice behind me.

"Lose track of yourself?" someone asked. I turned around to see a thin, pale young man around my age. The hair and skin both had a tint of violet, the eyes, cat-like and red.

"Vaati," I remarked, and he smirked.

"Long time, no see," was all he said. "Thought you were dead. We all did. Why didn't you say you were leaving?"

Allow me to explain. Vaati was kind of my partner in crime back at the old public school. There were a few of us—Vaati, Majora, and I—and we went around wreaking havoc all the time. You know, spray-painting the parking lot, breaking into classrooms, that sort of thing. I'd never hinted that I'd be leaving for the Academy before I left the city school, and I didn't talk to Vaati or Majora after I left, either. I guess I didn't want them to know where I was going because we'd always made fun of the private school kids, and the last thing I wanted to do was become one of them.

He glanced me over, biting his cheek. Finally, he smirked. "Look at you," he mumbled. "Look all grown up, you do. Like my father," he said, scowling. "Even so—" and here he paused— "even so, mate, you still look like yourself. Didn't think you could hide forever, did you?" When I didn't answer, his smirk grew. "Whatever. I don't want to hear it." He fumbled for something in his pocket, retrieving a small paper package. "Cigarette?"

"No smoking in here!" the woman at the counter called before I even had the chance to answer. Vaati groaned.

"Fine, fine," he said, moseying out of line. He glanced over his shoulder at me. "You coming, mate?" he asked, shaking the package. "It's on me, I promise."

I glanced over to the table where Zelda was waiting quietly. "No, no," I answered finally. "I can't. Another time, maybe." Which was a lie, because I hadn't smoked a cigarette in months, and the last thing I wanted to do was start that up again.

Vaati's eyes trailed over to Zelda. Then, they widened, the redness becoming more apparent than ever as he caught my gaze.

"Oh, gods," he commented, his face wrinkling up just the slightest bit. "You've gone soft, haven't you? You have," he concluded, and rolled his eyes. "Very well, then. Have it your way."

And he stalked off without another word. I approached the counter and ordered whatever was cheapest, using a student ID card from the Academy to make it cheaper than usual. I handed the woman at the counter a note for 5 rupees, accepted the change, and when the change hit my hand it was for the wrong amount.

"You gave me too much," I said, and she just shook her head.

"Good on you for turning him down," was all she said, and, coffee in hand, I was sent on my way.

Zelda hadn't moved since I'd left, and she was gazing out of the window when I returned. Night had fallen at this point and the streetlights had flickered on outside.

"Can I take your coat?" I asked with unprecedented gentleness, setting down my cup on the table. Zelda glanced back up. She didn't answer for a minute, seemingly still in her own world, and then she registered what I said, and nodded.

"I—yes, I mean, of course, thanks," she stuttered, and I couldn't push away the feeling that something was really bothering her. She unfastened the buttons quickly and shrugged off the black wool. I took it from her, draped it over the back of the chair, and then went for her scarf. Just as my fingers hit the fabric, Zelda raised a hand and clutched it instinctively, almost protectively. I couldn't help the concern that shot through me when she did that.

"Is there a problem?" I asked, and Zelda shook her head a little too quickly.

"Never mind," she said, and that's when it occurred to me that she was hiding something.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. It's nothing, never mind," Zelda insisted, knowing as well as I did that she was only making it worse by saying that. But I was frustrated, and I wasn't about to give in.

"Zelda," I muttered. She refused to look up at me, staring ahead fiercely. "Zelda, I know what he's like. Your dad, I mean. You want your privacy, fine. But your safety- that's a hell of a lot different."

So I removed the scarf against her will. She protested, trying to stop me as I unwound it from her shoulders, but she knew that there was nothing she could do; finally, I pulled the scarf away, and Zelda's shoulders slumped in defeat—embarrassment, even.

For a second, I didn't notice what was wrong. Her collar was a little rumpled, sure. But then I noticed that the top of the collar was unbuttoned, and that her neck was exposed, and that peeking up out of the top of the collar, just enough for it to be noticeable, was a small black bruise the size of a coin.

"No," I said quietly, and Zelda didn't protest as I pulled her collar down further, revealing the skin on her neck and shoulder. And lining the skin there was a row of five perfect bruises, right in the shape of fingerprints, and I didn't need (nor want) to remove any more clothing to know that there was a matching set on the other side. An image shot into my mind of somebody, an angry somebody, grabbing Zelda by the shoulders, shaking her, wringing her there, somebody who was much taller than her, somebody who Zelda would be embarrassed to report…

I didn't say another word. I just dropped the scarf on the tabletop and stormed out of the café wordlessly, my head throbbing, my ears ringing in outrage. I could hear Zelda calling out from behind me but I didn't acknowledge her. I just kept walking, slamming the door behind me, and beginning my march down the sidewalk.

Before I'd gotten very far, I heard the bell ring, and Zelda materialized from the café, her coat hanging unbuttoned from her shoulders.

"Where are you going?!" she cried.

"I'm going to give your dad a piece of my mind!" I answered, not bothering to turn around. I tried to keep walking but I was stopped suddenly when Zelda's hand wrapped around my arm, holding me back.

"No!" she argued. "You can't, please!" Note that she didn't deny being hurt; her father had hurt her, and she didn't even bother to refute it. "Please," she repeated, and I turned around. Her grip on my arm slackened and I just stared at her for a few seconds, shivering in the cold autumn night, the streetlight casting long shadows across her face.

"Why not?" I finally asked.

"I don't want you interfering. Don't get caught up in this," Zelda instructed.

I just shook my head. "Zelda, I don't have a choice," I said. And then I turned and kept walking, and just like before, Zelda stopped me.

"You can't!" she yelled, dragging me a few steps back. For such a thin girl, she was actually quite strong. I don't know. Maybe all girls are stronger than we give them credit for.

"Are you going to stop me?!"

"Obviously," she answered, and I could tell that she was desperate. "Listen, Ganondorf, just listen to me—please, listen, no don't walk away—don't get caught up in this, it's not what you think it is—stop it, don't you realize—I deserved it, Ganondorf!"

I paused again. She was begging me, now, doing everything she could to stop me from getting involved with her father. And I understood why, but it didn't stop my anger from growing.

"You don't deserve any of that!" I argued. And the rage suddenly boiled to the top like a fire wanting to be recognized.

And I couldn't control it anymore, shouting, "Your father has to learn that he can't punch you into being perfect any more than he can punch Link into being straight!"

…The silence that followed was unparalleled. It was thick, it was pressing, just the two of us on that cold, empty sidewalk in the light of a streetlamp.

And then tears formed in her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks, flushed pink with outrage. "Why can't you just mind your own business?!" she finally sobbed, her fists clenched. "I'm so sick of you, so sick of you interfering! Can't you see that all I want—all I ever wanted—is to get rid of you?! Ganondorf Dragmire, I HATE YOU!"

"Okay," I replied, my voice empty of emotion.

"I've never hated anyone as much as I hate you!" she insisted. And then, for emphasis, "Anyone!"

I just stared, struck silent. When I spoke, I didn't say what I meant to say. What I meant to say was I'm sorry, I understand, I know, but you need help…

Instead, I choked out unplanned words. "Hit me." When she didn't answer, I continued with, "Go on, punch me. Get it out."

I doubt Zelda even thought twice about it. She charged forward and hammered me with her fists, punching me on the arms and the shoulders. I just kept repeating "Yes, yeah, again," like some sort of robot. "Yes, again! Punch me in the face!" And then my head spun with pain as she socked me right in the eye. She kept at it until she'd backed me up against the brick wall, and even then she kept going, hitting me and yelling at me until she came down off of her high, the fatigue starting to set in. The punches started slowing down, becoming lighter, until she stopped, and her hands fell slack at her sides. And then she stared right at me, eyes wide, shocked, terrified.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice hollow. She glanced nervously at her trembling hands. "Oh my gods, I'm so sorry." Giant tears were splashing against her cheeks, and she took a shaky breath.

"Are you all right?" I finally asked, my cheek feeling sore and slightly swollen.

"No," she answered breathily. When she looked up, she finally, finally caught my eye. "Don't ever let me do that again."

"Why not?"

"Because hitting is wrong- and that was so wrong- but it felt good, Ganon, and- and… thank you."

My head was still rattling. Had she punched me so hard that I was hallucinating? "Come again?!"

"You understand," she explained. "It's bizarre. And kind of magnificent, and enlightening, and I finally get it. You know what I'm going through, don't you? You've… you've been through it before."

I think she punched me too hard, I thought. Maybe I'm dreaming. Maybe I'm comatose. Maybe I'm dead.

But I just answered quietly, "Yes, I have been through it before."

It wasn't a lie.

Her eyes fell to the ground. "So, thank you," she repeated.

"You're welcome." I felt like I should be excited about this, but I really wasn't. I wasn't excited at all. I was just drained, and sore, and tired, and wanted to go home.

Somehow, the surprises hadn't ended. "What's your phone number?" she asked, retrieving a sleek black cell phone from her pocket.

I bit my lip. "Don't have a phone," I answered slowly.

"Not even a house phone?"

"Well, if you call the building, the woman in the lobby can give you an extension to my room. But the line's usually busy anyway. Here," I said, scribbling down the number to the lobby on a scrap of paper from my bag and handing it over. "You have to ask for Floor 8, apartment 6. And then an extension to room A. There's a phone there and… are you even listening?"

She'd become worried again, staring at the screen on her phone. "I have to go," she said quickly. "Link sent me a message… Father is upset, and…" she shook her head and slipped the phone and my note into her pocket. Finally, she caught my eye and let out a sigh. "Don't tell anyone," she said. "About tonight, or about anything, really." I took this as a sign to keep Link's situation a secret, as well as a warning to stay away from the headmaster.

I didn't argue this time. I just nodded in understanding. And then Zelda gave a small smile, and turned and walked back down the sidewalk. It was too late to walk home now, so I gave in and sauntered over to the bus stop, boarding the bus when it came and ending the first (but definitely not the most) bizarre plot twist of my life.

Hello again! (Finally, some development.) Thanks to all of you who are reading for being lovely, and thanks to all of you who are reviewing for being way more lovely.

Next chapter: A day off reunites Ganon with some old friends- namely, some old friends that he's been avoiding for the past month. And they're not pleased.