Bound by Fate

Chapter 9

Vincent

To me, Genevieve's reaction seemed exaggerated. Is there such a thing as mere friendship between attractive men and women? Especially with such a stunning girl like Genevieve, any guy who approaches her, regardless of his facade, ultimately desires her, doesn't he?

When a pretty girl claims she just wants friendship, eight or nine times out of ten, she's keeping him as a backup plan, and the remaining one or two times, it's just a facade of innocence.

Is Genevieve using me as a backup plan, or is she simply pretending to be naive?

Despite appearing thin and delicate, Genevieve had been toughened by life, able to shoulder burdens with ease.

After her last class of the day, she hurried out of the school gate. As she glanced up, she spotted me leaning against my black Hummer, a cigarette hanging from my lips, and a smirk aimed her way.

"Hey!" I greeted her, the cigarette held loosely between my fingers, "Friend."

I emphasized "friend" with a playful and teasing tone. Genevieve halted, hesitated briefly, and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Although I had a dormitory on campus for a brief rest after lunch, being a local meant I didn't actually reside there. I drove my sleek car to and from university, attracting envy from guys and flirtatious glances from girls.

But Genevieve remained unyielding, no matter how hard or soft my approach.

"Just waiting for you."

"Headed to Bright Avenue? I can give you a lift."

I teased, "Didn't we agree to be friends? Since we're friends, there's no need to be so formal."

"No, thanks, it's just four stops away. I'll take the bus."

I wasn't one to be dismissed easily. "I'm not in a hurry. You'll wait half an hour for the bus; I'll give you a ride."

"I need to go home first to warm up dinner for my mom. It's too much trouble; you go home first, don't worry about me."

I motioned across the road, "Isn't that your family building? No problem, I'll wait for you."

She fell silent momentarily. "Then wait."

With that, she walked past the rear of my car and crossed the zebra crossing.

I smirked, snuffing out the cigarette. Strong women had always feared persistent men. Genevieve seemed stubborn, displaying shades of a strong woman. But how strong could a girl her age truly be? Material possessions like clothes, cosmetics, bags, fancy cars, and entertainment could quickly erode such strength.

I had witnessed it all before. I was curious to see how long Genevieve could resist.

Squinting, I observed Genevieve crossing the road. Her attire hugged her curves, reminiscent of a character from a comic book. A slender waist, delicate enough to fit in my palm.

For the day she fell into my grasp, I could endure her pretense, feigned innocence, and affectation. I trailed behind her, recognizing her residence. However, she didn't allow me to accompany her upstairs.

"The place is messy, not convenient."

I didn't mind. "You go ahead; I'll wait downstairs." I lit another cigarette.

Playing the game, I watched her descend and was somewhat surprised. "That was quick. Can you cook so fast?"

"I prepared it in the morning; I just need to reheat it. It's not good for the elderly to eat cold food," she explained.

"Why not just get food from the cafeteria?"

The school cafeteria offered subsidies, and the prices were quite reasonable. If she fetched food directly from there, couldn't her mom enjoy something warm? It would be fresher than what she made in the morning, right?

"She has several health issues," she explained softly. "Her diet needs to be strictly monitored. The cafeteria food is too oily and salty for her."

"In that case, you're taking too long," I softened my tone. "Just microwave it, and it'll be ready in two minutes."

The setting sun was harsh, causing Genevieve to shield her eyes with her hand. "We don't have one."

"What?"

"We don't own a microwave," Genevieve replied casually.

We walked together towards the car, and I couldn't help but notice how the rosy sunset cast a warm glow on her delicate neck, stirring up a mix of emotions within me. How could her situation be this dire?

The drive from the school to Bright Avenue was brief.

"It's right there. That café," Genevieve pointed out, "You can park there without attracting attention."

I parked by the curb, and Genevieve thanked me, suggesting, "You should head home soon; traffic will get worse later."

As she prepared to step out of the car after speaking, I held onto her arm. "Have you eaten?"

"Our manager takes care of my meals," she tried to free her arm from my grip.

She pursed her lips and added firmly, "Vincent, let's just talk from now on, no physical contact."

I chuckled, "Didn't we agree to be friends?"

Genevieve's expression remained unchanged. "Friends shouldn't be touching each other either."

I raised my hands in surrender with a grin. Genevieve shot me a sidelong glance and opened the car door.

I grabbed her arm again. She shot me a glare, and I released her, asking, "When do you finish work? I'll give you a ride."

She was about to decline, but I cut in, "Friends shouldn't be so formal."

"I have another part-time job tonight." I was taken aback for a moment, then dropped my playful demeanor. "Why? Where? What will you be doing?"

"At the bar street downtown. There's a bus that goes directly back to school. You don't need to worry about me."

But transportation wasn't the main concern. "Doing what?"

"Serving drinks," she replied calmly as always.

That irked me, as expected.

After a moment of watching Genevieve through the windshield, I turned to her, serious. "Consider being my girlfriend again." I set aside my jesting and sarcasm; this proposal was genuine. "Take your time, think it over carefully before you answer."

Genevieve

I didn't hesitate to turn down Vincent for the second time today.

Vincent's expression soured.

In my previous life, I wouldn't have dared to voice my thoughts to Vincent. But in this life, things are different; I feel it's important to communicate with him calmly and openly.

"Vincent, I'm very poor," I murmured softly, a bitter undertone in my heart. "I don't have much, but my self-reliance is one of the most valuable things I possess."

During my sophomore year of high school, my adoptive father lost our house and savings before taking his own life. Life became challenging after that. Fortunately, my mother stood by me, supported me, and shielded me.

Later, as my mother's health deteriorated, I stepped up, caring for her and shielding her from harm. The burdens of life can weigh heavily on one's shoulders. It's tough. Yet, I haven't buckled under the pressure, all thanks to the resilience instilled by the concept of "self-reliance."

I could sense Vincent's gaze on me as I vanished through the café's entrance.

***

The weekend brought more customers than usual. Noah's café typically attracts more male patrons, especially on Saturdays.

Seven or eight customers requested my phone number, while three or four left theirs. Two even left small gifts before scurrying off.

"Hahaha," the shameless manager chuckled, "I understand them. For those enamored with Greek mythology, seeing a real-life Greek goddess is a thrilling experience."

I rolled my eyes and handed all the gifts to Noah. "Here, they're all for you. I won't accept them. Make sure to return them when you see them next time. Anyway, I'm done for the day."

"Eve—" Noah called out, sounding a bit uncertain. "Would you like to grab a late-night bite?" He quickly corrected himself, "I mean... go out for a meal."

Seeing his nervous and even blushing demeanor, I couldn't help but smile. Compared to Vincent, who could utter audacious remarks without flinching, Noah seemed as innocent and endearing as a three-year-old cartoon character.

"No, thank you. I still need to head to the bar street," I declined politely.

Noah appeared a tad disappointed and inquired casually, "Meeting friends?"

"No, it's for my part-time job there," I explained.

Upon hearing my response, Noah hesitated before falling silent. While he might have meant well, not everyone possessed Vincent's assertiveness and desire to meddle in others' affairs. Perhaps he would speak up once we grew more acquainted. However, from Noah's perspective, I had only been working at the shop for less than a week. Even if he wanted to get to know me better, the time we spent together wasn't sufficient to delve into personal matters.

Yet, I already understood his concerns quite well. I smiled and reassured him, "Don't worry, it's a large and well-managed bar. It's quite safe."

I could see the relief wash over him.

After a moment's contemplation, he mentioned, "I've spoken to my mom about private piano lessons; she's considering it."

Despite feeling somewhat intimidated by Vincent's forceful demeanor, Noah was genuinely kind and thoughtful. I smiled warmly, "Thank you, Manager, you're amazing."