Bound by his name

Chapter Three - Lunch For Two

The campus café was louder than Vincent remembered.

Students crowded every table, laughter echoed from every corner, and the smell of fresh coffee filled the air.

Vincent stopped just inside the entrance.

"I can eat by myself."

William looked over his shoulder.

"I know."

"Then why are you still standing here?"

"Because I'm waiting for you."

Before Vincent could think of another excuse, William waved toward an empty table by the window.

"There."

Vincent followed reluctantly.

"You do realise," he said as they sat down, "that people are staring."

William looked around.

"They're staring at me."

"...That doesn't help."

"It should."

"How?"

"If they're looking at me, they're not looking at you."

Vincent opened his mouth.

Then closed it again.

That...

...actually made sense.

A waitress approached.

"What can I get you?"

William smiled.

"Cheeseburger, chips, iced tea."

She turned to Vincent.

"And you?"

"I'm fine."

William looked at him.

"No, you're not."

"I meant I'm not hungry."

The waitress waited patiently.

William folded his arms.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Vincent avoided eye contact.

"...Breakfast."

"It's nearly three."

"I'm busy."

"You need food."

"I need to finish my lab report."

William sighed dramatically.

"One grilled chicken sandwich."

Vincent looked horrified.

"I didn't order that."

"I did."

"You can't order for me."

"I just did."

The waitress bit back a smile before walking away.

Vincent stared at him.

"You're unbelievable."

"I've been called worse."

A few minutes later the food arrived.

William immediately pushed the sandwich across the table.

Vincent frowned.

"I said I wasn't hungry."

"Try one bite."

"No."

"One bite."

"..."

"One."

Vincent sighed.

"If I eat one bite, will you stop asking?"

William grinned.

"Probably not."

Vincent took the sandwich anyway.

One bite became two.

Then three.

William said nothing.

He simply smiled to himself.

"I hate that you're right," Vincent muttered.

"I know."

"So..."

William rested his elbows on the table.

"What made you choose engineering?"

Vincent swallowed.

"It makes sense."

"That's the most engineering answer I've ever heard."

"It pays well."

"Still boring."

Vincent thought for a moment.

"I like solving problems."

William nodded.

"Now that's a better answer."

"What about football?"

William smiled.

"I've loved it since I was six."

"You want to go professional?"

"Maybe."

"You don't sound sure."

William's smile faded just a little.

"My dad wanted me to."

Past tense.

Vincent noticed.

He didn't ask why.

Some wounds deserved privacy.

Instead...

"My mother used to tell me..."

He stopped.

William waited.

Vincent looked down at his tea.

"Never mind."

"No."

William's voice was gentle.

"You can tell me."

For the first time in years...

Vincent wanted to.

"My mother used to say..." he whispered, "...that life isn't about becoming who other people expect."

William smiled softly.

"She sounds smart."

"She was."

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable.

It was peaceful.

As they left the café, several students greeted William.

"Hey, Moretti!"

"Training later?"

"See you tonight!"

William greeted every one of them by name.

Vincent watched quietly.

"You know everyone."

William shrugged.

"I try."

"I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I forget names."

William looked sideways at him.

"I remembered yours."

Vincent felt heat creep into his cheeks.

"...That's different."

"Why?"

Vincent had no answer.

Across the road...

A silver SUV sat parked beneath a tree.

The driver's window was lowered just enough for a camera lens to peek through.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Photographs.

Vincent laughing.

William smiling.

The two of them walking side by side.

Inside the vehicle, a man lowered the camera.

"They've already become friendly."

His colleague nodded.

"Mr Wynne will want to see these."

The engine started.

The SUV disappeared into traffic.

Neither Vincent nor William noticed.

That evening...

William returned from football practice exhausted.

He pushed open the dorm room door.

The lights were dim.

Vincent sat cross-legged on his bed wearing headphones, completely absorbed in a thick engineering textbook.

William smiled.

"So..."

Vincent looked up.

"So?"

"I've got a question."

"What is it?"

"If the building caught fire..."

Vincent blinked.

"...What?"

"And you could only save one thing..."

William pointed dramatically.

"Your textbooks..."

"...or me?"

Vincent stared at him.

For three whole seconds.

Then...

A tiny laugh escaped him.

"I'd save the textbooks."

William clutched his chest.

"I knew it."

"They're more expensive."

William gasped.

"You're ruthless."

"I've been told."

William flopped onto his bed.

"You know..."

"What?"

"That was the longest conversation we've had."

Vincent closed his book.

"It was."

"I think we're making progress."

For the first time...

Vincent agreed.

"Maybe we are."