His version of love

Chapter 2: The invitation

Iris’s POV

I did not sleep much that night the note stayed on my bedside table unfolded staring at me every time I opened my eyes

“You’re right on time”

I read it so many times that the words stopped looking like words. I tried to be logical, maybe it had been left in the book by the previous owner, maybe it was a part of a game or maybe someone had forgotten it years ago but none of those explanations felt right. the paper was clean the ink had not faded and the note was neat as if it had been placed there recently. I turned the note over, nothing, no signature no date no clue then I checked every book I had bought that evening receipts old bookmarks a dried flower pressed between two pages nothing else. By morning I had convinced myself I was overthinking it because London had a way of making ordinary things feel mysterious. I slipped the note into my journal,put the business card back into my wallet and got ready for class maeve was already in the kitchen. when I walked in she was wearing one of her oversized sweaters and reading emails on her tablet while drinking coffee

“You look tired” she said.

“I couldn’t sleep”

“Too many books?”

I smiled weakly

“Something like that.”

She looked up

“You’re usually excited after buying books what happened?”

I almost told her I almost mentioned the man in Camden, the business card and the note instead I shrugged

“Nothing important”

Maeve studied my face for a moment then reached over and pushed a plate of toast towards me

“Eat before you leave.”

“Yes boss.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Call me if you’re staying late on campus.”

“I will.”

I left the flat a few minutes later and walked towards the underground station. blackcretz university was beautiful in the morning old stone buildings stood beside modern glass ones and students filled every path carrying books laptops and coffee cups the campus always smelled like rain and paper, my first lecture was on shakespeare I sat near the back opened my notebook and tried to focus. the professor was brilliant everyone said so, he spoke about ambition power and the way people rewrite their own lives through stories. I wrote every word down and at one point he said

“History is often written by the people who lived to see it”

For some reason that sentence stayed with me. After class I wandered through the university library. it was one of my favorite places on campus, tall shelves, quiet corners, windows that looked over the gardens. I found a table near the literature section and opened one of the books I had bought yesterday evening the note slipped out and I stared at it

“You’re right on time”

“Interesting” a kind voice said,I looked up quickly, a girl with curly hair and round glasses was standing beside my table She pointed at the note

“I wasn’t trying to read your stuff it just caught my eye”

“Oh.”

She smiled

“Sorry, I’m Ava.”

“Iris”

She sat down across me without asking

“You’re new here right?” She asked

“First year.”

“I thought so I’ve seen you around.”

We talked for a while she’s studying creative writing and had an opinion about almost every author I mentioned. she was loud funny and impossible to ignore

“You should join the campus writing society” she said

“I’m not so sure about that”

“You’re an English literature student you clearly read too much”

I scoffed.

“That’s rude”

“It’s accurate”

I laughed. for the first time since finding the note I felt normal again and by afternoon I had almost forgotten about Camden, Almost. When I returned home maeve was not back from work yet, I dropped my bag on the floor changed into comfortable clothes and sat at my desk. The business card was still in my wallet I took it out then read the front and back once again

“Eric Belmont blackcretz literary foundation”

Soon after I opened my laptop the same foundation’s website appeared almost immediately as a search suggestion the coincidence was straight out of a movie I of course knew of the foundation, heck every student in the English department did. the blackcretz literary foundation is connected to the blackcretz university but not part of the university itself, it’s one of the most respected literary organizations in the country. it funded scholarships publishing opportunities writing fellowships and who can forget its famous private mentorship program. students submitted writing samples sat through interviews and waited months for a reply I remember overhearing some lecturers talking about the foundation as if it were a doorway into the high class literary world. If a young writer is accepted publishers editors and agents start paying attention.

I never applied, I never entered one of their competitions, I’ve never sent them a single page of my writing I’ve only ever thought of the idea of doing so then suddenly my phone buzzed and It was an email from blackcretz literary foundation, for a second I thought I had clicked something by accident because the coincidences were too good to be true.

I opened it and it said

“Dear Iris Calloway you have been selected for an invitation only dinner hosted by the blackcretz literary foundation. Formal attire is required this invitation would disappear the moment you leave this inbox so do print it before you do so”

I read it twice then a third time I checked the sender and the address was official, the Logo matched the website. I had never applied to blackcretz literary foundation the only connection I had to it was a man I bumped into in the rain less than twenty four hours ago my phone rang it was Maeve calling

“Hey Iris I know you miss me so so so bad, I’m calling because I know you wanted so I beat you to it but don’t worry I’ll soon be home little one”

Still shocked I did not respond

“Iris?”

“Huh? Yeah that’s good”

“What? Iris you sound strange”

“I think something just happened”

“What happened?”

I looked at the email again then at the business card on my desk

“I just got an invitation from blackcretz literary foundation something about a dinner and formal attire”

There was a pause

“You applied??!!! And didn’t tell me!??”

“No Maeve calm down I would have told you if I did you’re my rock”

“Oh okay I was heartbroken for a bit”

“But then why would they invite you?”

“Oh so I’m not worth the invitation?”

“Come on stop it you know I didn’t mean it like that”

“I know just teasing I really don’t know though, give me a second.“

I ended the call then printed the invitation sat down and closed my eyes for a few minutes to process everything I opened my eyes once again and fifteen minutes had gone by I must have slept off. I carefully slipped it into my journal a few pages away from the note from Camden I was about to close the journal when something caught my eye. At the bottom of the printed invitation beneath the foundation’s signature was a Sentence I hadn’t noticed earlier

“I’ll see you next Friday”

I stared at it for a long time the handwriting was unfamiliar It was written with a pen so it wasn’t printed on It was very tiny and subtle.

“Could they do that officially?” I asked myself

I dove into the fantasy of Eric doing this as some sort of romantic gesture writing on an official document just for me. sounded far from the truth but it was the only thing I could think of that made sense the email had already disappeared so there was nothing I could do about it, maeve called again

“You’re still awake?”

“Maeve… there’s something in the invitation

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a handwriting in it.”

“Well what does it say?”

“I’ll see you next Friday.”

There was a pause

“Take a picture and send it to me” she said

I did and a few seconds later she replied

“Yeah a much better looking handwriting than yours”

“As if, but you can see it?”

“Yes”

“So I’m not imagining it”

“No you’re not imagining it”

I looked at it again and the sentence was still there

“I’ll see you next Friday.”