When Fate speaks
"We can have a coffee," she said. "As friends."
Photo by Pelayo Arbués on Unsplash
Andy found herself sitting outside at a large gray table that used to belong to a restaurant that closed some months ago. This place was a little hideaway behind a vast, antique museum building and a couple of luxury restaurants nearby that boasted fancy, elaborately built interiors. Their aesthetic was that “something” to keep the tourists coming, as the museum itself was not very well-known, and in this day and age, no one would bother to go to a place that was not at least in some ways “Instagrammable.” The museum itself was not in its best state: a right wing of the building was covered up with white sheets, as it was undergoing repairs over the summer.
To her right, there was an abandoned site (a parking lot? the remnants of a luxury residence of a mysterious private investor?), surrounded by a thin, shabby-green fence. She felt surprised that amid the unending chaos of urban life, she had managed to find this tiny scrap of peaceful oasis, which, surely, was one of the city's last remaining quiet spots. Well, of course, the meaning of quiet here was relative: there were still people coming and going near her, the city continuing its unstoppable movement, and though here it didn’t run, it still walked at a brisk pace.
In front of her, there was a couple who sat down to rest at another table, with a woman recounting her story out loud, as if she was performing on a stage, at the speed of light. A man kept interjecting to make a comment, but in the end she always interrupted him to continue with her stream-of-consciousness monologue. To her left, a serious man was smoking as he was making a call. A couple of times he got up, moving around in a nervous manner, but he’d always return to the table, as if it was his own haven of safety, the permanence he owned no matter what went on in his life right now. At one point, a woman came to greet him, and as they exchanged pleasantries briefly, she departed just as quickly. There was a fourth table, too; but visitors didn’t spend there long. They’d come to stop for a brief pause and then continue on with their journey. Bikes, cars, scooters, trolleys, passersby—all of them weren’t running here, just moving at a slower speed, as if the time slowed down here.
Andy liked to come here when she felt lost in her own life. Though usually her head was constantly filled with an onslaught of thoughts, here she felt like she could just forget about everything and people-watch. There was no space for confusion or sadness, only the pure feeling of presence and experiencing the sensations of everyday life she couldn’t ignore from this spot of observation.
Suddenly, she felt someone tapping her on the shoulder. She turned around: it was Darcy.
“Hey,” Darcy said, as she looked at her with guilty eyes.
“How did you find me?”
“I know you like to come here to think, especially when you’re feeling sad.”
“Right,” Andy said. “Anything else?”
“And I’m sorry,” Darcy said, as she put her hand on Andy’s. “I thought you and Jake still could work it out. I also didn’t realize he’d be such a jerk and actually make a move on you without you expecting it. I hoped you guys would talk.”
“Well,” Andy said. “I’m still mad at him, but we actually do need to talk.”
“About what?”
“I’d already promised to get him more work. But now, I don’t really want to recommend him for gigs. Maybe you could do it instead of me?”
“You’re joking, right?” Darcy asked, as she briefly exhaled a laugh. “It’s going to be so awkward. And you may still end up at the same gigs as him.”
“You’re right,” Andy said. She finally looked directly at her friend. There she stood, her messy blonde hair brushed unevenly, slightly puffy eyes with bags under them, holding a paper bag with what Andy knew were fresh croissants—a treat that Darcy liked to apologize with. She couldn’t bear to see her like that.
“Come here!” She got up and pulled her best friend into an embrace.
***
Darcy and Andy headed to a street party later that night. Andy knew that Jake was going there together with his friend group, so she thought it could be a chance for her to talk to him and tell him that they could no longer be friends.
Though usually she liked to dress to kill, as they say, Darcy convinced her it was a bad idea. She told her that it was bad enough she had rejected Jake and stormed off at the last gig they were working together, but her wearing a scrumptious dress would definitely finish him off and whatever was left of his dignity. So, it was truly a first for Andy to show up to an outing looking casual, in her old, washed-up jeans, her black top, and sneakers.
The party was held outdoors: it was an event organized by the neighborhood's locals. The street was tucked away a little farther from the main road where the bus dropped them both off. They saw many dispersed friend groups heading in the direction of the street, and right away, judging from their merry mood and their laughing, singing, and dancing to the echoes of the DJ set that was on, Andy could tell they were all going to the same place.
On their way, Darcy and Andy noticed rainbow-colored bunting all around them, like exotic snakes, hanging from the trees above their heads. They were beginning to merge with the crowd, as they were approaching the main square. Most of the attendees were holding some sort of drink—wine, beer, and whatnot—while dancing as much as it was possible in their spots, as the crowd around them pressed and pressed, squeezing everyone out of their personal spaces.
It must have been a beautiful sight to an independent observer, but for Andy, it was hell. Not because she hated crowds that much, but rather because she realized it would be really hard to find Jake here, let alone talk to him.
When suddenly, as Andy was gazing around, searching for Jake, she ended up bumping into someone. It was Clint, the musician she’d met at a gig where she’d worked as an extra. He was arm in arm with a beautiful blonde woman who had flawless cat-eye makeup and wore a little top and a mini-skirt.
“Andy! Hi!” Clint exclaimed, as a smile lit up his entire face. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“Hey,” Andy smiled. She felt her heartbeat increasing to speed of sound.
Clint gave her a hug and greeted her with two kisses on each cheek. The blonde girl, who was super friendly, proceeded to do the same, and Andy swore to herself that her hug definitely lingered. “I’m Mindy,” she then introduced herself in a chirpy, high-pitched tone.
“Well,” Andy said, “it’s really great to see you. I hope you guys have fun!”
She was practically ready to run, though the mish-mash of the crowd around her wouldn’t let her. She then felt Clint gently grabbing her arm.
“Hey, Andy… I don’t want to look desperate here, as you never came to my gig in the end. So, I’ll ask again and feel free to say ‘no.’ No, really, no pressure, but I just felt like we’ve had a connection. But if I’m wrong… that’s okay, too.”
Andy looked in his blue eyes that did not seem to betray any ulterior motive, at least on the surface; then, her gaze jumped to the gorgeous Mindy, who was now a little further away, talking to some of her friends from the crowd.
“We can have a coffee,” she said. “As friends.”
Clint smiled, squeezing her arm a little. “Friends, then. What about next week?”