Please, be careful - Part Two

After accompanying Caro to the nearest metro station I found myself alone with the icy February wind brushing against me everywhere. So goosebumps peeked under thick tights, bringing the cold to stick to any bone in my body, even freezing the blood.

In spite of the almost eighteenth London winter that I face, I cannot help starting to tremble, shrugging my shoulders in an attempt to gather some latent heat. The humidity seems to attach itself vehemently to every garment I wear, not to mention the way it annoysingly tries to threaten me with the shadow of an imminent influence - and inexorably I find myself wondering what is best thing to do to avoid both this eventuality, both Catherine's company that I have been avoiding for days, given her renewed interest in Seth's visit at our house.

Not that it is a news, of course, after all she has seen him there dozens of other times, but what made her suspicious was the absence of Charlie at his side; it has never happened that he came to see me alone, but I certainly cannot, nor do I want to, tell her the truth - Josephine's indiscreet and reprehensible comments are already sufficient to season my routine.

And it is just remembering this situation that, suddenly, I can think of a way to escape the cold and force Benton to give me signs of life: go to the store. Yes, because from where I am now, just beyond the school gates, it will take me twenty minutes walking, a enough reasonable distance to do - especially for him. Finding me in front of the cashier counter will certainly not let him be able to avoid me or pretend indifference, right? He will be obliged to pay attention to me and explain the reason for his attitude!

So, arming myself with conviction and renewed stamina, I turn my heels on the frozen sidewalk starting to make the first strides towards the Hard Disk Shop, that mystical place where the passion of a long-haired for hard rock music of the 80s gave birth to a vinyl, CD and various themed gadget shop in which Charlie has grabbed the role of a clerk with the help of comparisons and niche purchases. Already the day after finishing high school he found himself there sorting orders and consulting catalogs, demonstrating to his boss how much he wanted to collaborate on such a project.

I move fast, taking carfully care on where to put the next step on the asphalt, in order to avoid ruinous falls. Through streets and waits next to traffic lights, I hide my face in the colored scarf as much as possible.

Among the roads of the Brent the go-to is the same as always; passers-by do not fear the cold, walking in the freezing air as if nothing had happened and, the more I look at them, dressed in a few layers of fabric less than myself, the more the goosebumps become intense - so I accelerate, hoping to get at as soon as possible in the warmth of the shop and shake off this terrible sensation.

The gray sky threatens more rain, perhaps even snow, and I have neither a hooded garment nor an umbrella under which to shelter myself - not that it is new, indeed. This is yet another testimony against my instinct for self-preservation and, if I really want to avoid some ailment, I need to hasten the trend even more.

Thus, what should have been twenty minutes of travel, inexorably become fifteen and, just before the stroke of four in the afternoon, I find myself in front of the small windows with wooden frames, warm lights and a varied display of colored vinyl covers. The vintage ones are mixed with biographies of their composers or patches to be attached to jackets, backpacks or various clothing, while the more recent ones to posters and t-shirts fresh from the press.

A slight halo of condensation surrounds the edges of the glass, announcing an all too tempting heat at the moment, but before entering I approach cautiously and, on tiptoe, peek inside.

Catherine did not give me the gift of height, on the contrary, I doubt she pardoned me with anything - probably because the stocks of merits had ended with the coming into the world of Jace -, yet I try to make, of my meter and seventy excessively poor, a good use.

With the heart squeezed in a light grip I squeeze the nose against the window, praying that he has not changed his turn and thus made me come here unnecessary.

Inside, apart from a boy immersed in listening to some new album, I see Benton sitting behind the counter. His back is curved and turned in my direction, as if he were darkened and, from the way his body stays still I deduce that he is not even paying attention to the magazine on his knees.

Strange. Terribly unusual for him.

Charlie is made of smiles and silly jokes, of heat that has the flavor of summer days; he lets himself go to emotions with joy and even when he is angry he always retains his innate propensity to attract people - but now he does not seem very similar to the memory I have of him, he is weak and, therefore, instinctively my legs move towards the entrance. It bothers me to see him like this. I need to come in and see him smile.

So, on the threshold, I do not hesitate even for a moment, certain that I am doing the best thing for both of us.

Using non-existent muscles I push the huge door that jingles the bell hanging from the architrave, thus attracting the attention of the only salesman present: my best friend.

His eyebrows wrinkle, while a spark of confusion and unexpected surprise passes through his eyes, a mix that, for a moment, makes me hesitate.

«Jay ...?»

He almost seems to have seen an apparition, a sort of ghost - and in fact, if it hadn't been for my visit to his house, our friendship in the last few weeks would have been limited to a few messages and tags on social media.

I free the face from the huge striped scarf, then smile and approach him almost gloating, but it doesn't seem to change the situation.

«Are you looking for Seth? He just left...» turning slightly, he shows me the way with his thumb, as if he wanted to show me the direction he went: but why was Morgenstern here? And above all, why would Charlie believe I came to the Hard Disk for someone other than him? Visiting him in the shop is a sort of custom, since he started working here it happened dozens of times - why should I look for someone else. tho?

My feet stop near the cash register: «Actually not...» I confess: «I'm here to see if you were still alive» again I sketch a smile and it seems to surprise him.

«Oh!» Escapes from his lips, while suddenly his expression brightens, calming me. Finally the shadow of sadness in which he was basking until a few minutes ago seems to begin to dissipate. «I mean... hell, sorry, I thought...»

I laugh at his embarrassment, at the way he tries to put together a sentence of complete meaning, a justification: «Did you think that? Look, you're both my friends!»

Again he is surprised at something: «Friends?»

«Yes, why? Aren't we?»

Now the confused one is me. What did I say strange? Did I miss something?

He stares at me, clearly investigating every aspect of my face in search of something and, the more time passes, the more anxiety squeezes my stomach.

«You and I for sure, but if he is, I think you have to talk» he says suddenly, pulling a nervous smile.

«What do you mean?»

«Come on, Jay. Don't pretend».

But I'm not lying, I really struggle to understand the situation - or maybe I'm afraid to do it.

«I do not».

Benton gets up, goes around the counter and then leans on it. Now he's close, as much as I like it; to separate us there is nothing more than a few centimeters of emptiness and his presence gives me a slight semblance of calm. Those who are intimidated, angry or disappointed do not approach, remain far away, they feel the absence of something and somehow show it - but if he is here I have nothing to fear.

He looks at me again, then shakes his head with a half laugh: «So you don't know Seth came by to tell me about your... relationship?»

And the throat suddenly dries up.

What did he do?

If one part of me starts to rejoice that "we have a relationship", the other, the bigger one, suddenly feels overwhelmed by events and their consequences. Yes, because Morgenstern had to ask me first, wait, discuss how and to whom to say - Charlie is yes, friend of both, but in the feud created he is on my brother's side and this involves more damage than I would like. And at the moment I would prefer to avoid further dramas or bruised faces.

A tremor shakes me, but almost to foresee it Benton takes my hand and pulls me towards him in a warm, accommodating embrace. His scent intoxicates me, trying to dispel fears.

I feel his body pressing against mine, trying to support it. With one hand he holds the back of my neck and, regardless of the only client, lets go of the affection: «I know you're worried about Jace» he hisses, showing how well he knows me.

«In your opinion, will he kill me?» I rub my face on his chest, risking to ruin his flannel shirt with mascara - so if I escape my brother's anger, Molly will be the one I have to fear.

Charlie runs his fingers through my hair, gently stroking me: «It is more likely that he will kill Seth» then he hearten me, or at least tries. In fact, Jace has already shown that he is ready for confrontation when it comes to him, so I don't doubt he can try to break his nose again.

«The important thing is that you are happy, Jay. And that he treats you well. Don't feel compelled to do anything you're not sure of» his words sound like those of a brother and in fact, if it were not for a few details, I could almost define him as such, but in his tone, even if unwilling, I can perceive the discordant note of disapproval. After all, though he hasn't said it explicitly, he agrees with Jace that Seth is a very good friend but a very bad suitor - and I, their little girl, should avoid getting into such trouble, after all I doubt that the his heart may break because of me.

But vice versa, yes.