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Sep 03, 2013 14:48
Ezra: Guess who I'm having lunch with? ;)
Me: Enlighten me
Ezra: Remember that guy Benjamin from yesterday? :D
Me: You're having lunch with him?
Ezra: Well.. Him and Les. But still! Les is totally on board with fixing us up! :D
Me: What about James?
Ezra: We're not TOGETHER so what's the harm? ;-*
Me: Well... Good luck!
The apartment is filled with Lady Gaga’s Applause and a peculiar smell, a mixture of cigarettes and bacon. I’m in my room, trying to ignore the sun shining outside as I’m putting together a paper for school. Every other second a flustered slash happy Ezra pops his head into his room asking what to add to the cooking next. He is trying to make Pasta Carbonara. He sings along to the song, knowing every word as he dances around the kitchen. I sigh heavily. It’s not that I’m not happy that Ezra is happy. It’s the reason for his happiness that makes me unhappy.
One Mr. James Duchamp is coming for lunch.
- O
There was usually never a quiet moment in the apartment of Jensen, Good & Cho with the three youngsters always up to something. That’s why it was a bit strange with the only thing audible during the dinner being the rattling of cutlery against the plates. No, there hadn’t been a fight, nor had something awful happened (at least not of the dreadful kind). The reason for the sudden quietness in the kitchen was the appearance of a fourth dinner guest. One Mr. James Duchamp.
“So...” It was Mr. James Duchamp who breaks the silence. “Flo, how’s practice?”
Florence looks up from her platter, startled by the question, and it takes a few seconds before she manages to swallow her teriyaki chicken down enough to be able to respond.
“Oh, it’s going great,” she says, and after carefully glancing around, taking in the temperature of the conversation, she adds “Coach thinks I’ll be able to try out for the Olympics team next year!”
Mr. James Duchamp beams at her.
“And you?” she asks politely.
“Jamie just got promoted to assistant manager,” Ezra beams and puts a hand the other guys shoulder.
Oliver can feel his insides turn and he quickly looks down. No. No, no, no. This was not what was supposed to happen. This Mr. James Duchamp should’ve been long gone from their lives by now. Oliver had not mentioned one thing about the coffee with him to either Florence or Ezra, but somehow he had still been able to sneak back into his life, littering it.
Oliver is not one who hates people, except this one. The relationship between Mr. James Duchamp and Ezra Good was way too long and way too messy, dragging Oliver into it as well. All the talking behind the backs, the scoffs and scorning comments had made everyone feel miserable. And now it would all start again.
Quickly Oliver finishes his plate, and even though he is still hungry he stands up with his plates and head for the dishwasher. “I’m going for a walk,” is all he can muster up saying.
“Thanks for the food, kid” Mr. James Duchamp smiles at him, but Oliver still heard the tone in his voice. He leaves the room, leaves the apartment and start walking down Pond Street, a sour taste still in his mouth.
- O
