“Alex, your place is amazing.”
She shrugs, grabs the bag again, and walks to the kitchen area, setting it down on the metal dining table. “I know. I furnished the place myself. I love everything in here. This place—”
“Is like a work of art,” I interrupt, and she nods.
“Yeah, exactly. It’s my own living canvas.”
“I love it, Alex. It makes me feel so… warm,” I say honestly.
“Yep, that’s how I feel here too. Shall we eat before this gets cold?”
We take a seat at the dining table and grab some chopsticks from the takeout bag. Not bothering with dinnerware, we eat straight from the containers.
“So, in your eyes, how’s Nate doing?” I ask.
She sucks in a long noodle and shrugs. “He’s… he’s doing what he does best. Moping and keeping busy with his art. Distraction is key for him. If he’s distracted, he’s okay. He’s constantly painting anything that reminds him of Ria, which isn’t bad because they’re beautiful, but it’s not healthy. When he’s not working, though, he gets super sad. I kinda hate seeing him like this.”
Sighing, I give a small nod. “And how’s Zaria doing?”
“She’s okay, but not doing much better than Nate.”
“They need to sort their shit out.”
“Oh, don’t I know it. Man, those two are the worst at being in a relationship, I swear. But neither of them will listen to me, so there’s nothing I can do.”
“You’re a good friend, Alex.”
“I am. I’m a great friend, Matt.” She smiles, then sucks up some more noodles. “So you and Jaci, huh? How’sthatgoing?”
“Really well. We’ve been talking on and off all day. She seems great, and I’m excited to learn more about her. Did you make contact with anyone?”
She nods, grabs a fortune cookie, and breaks it in half while throwing the fortune in the bag without reading it. “Yep, with a guy called Logan. He seems okay, maybe a little cocky, but I can work with that. He’s a tattoo artist in downtown LA.”
I chuckle. “Most men are cocky in one way or another, even me sometimes.”
She fake gasps. “Oh no, you would never, Matthew.”
I laugh and grab an egg roll as she continues with her noodles.
Being here and not knowing Alex all that well, I think I’d like to get to know her better. So I figure, given the theme of internet dating and getting to know people by asking questions, I’ll use the same method with Alex. We may not be dating, but it’s a good way to get to know someone, and I want to ask her some deeper questions.
“So, feel free to tell me if I’m pushing the friendship too far by asking this too soon… but you met Zaria in a women’s shelter, and I’m guessing you weren’t volunteering there?”
She tenses slightly. “No, I was staying there after my douche boyfriend, Kyle, up and left with all my stuff. Plus, he lifted all the money in my bank account, literally all of it. He left me with not a damn thing. Couldn’t pay my rent, couldn’t even afford tobuy a bottle of fucking water. I was so screwed. Thank fuck for that shelter.” Her eyes flicker, and she blinks a few times, then continues, “I had to quit college, I just couldn’t afford to pay for it. Had to get out of the apartment I was in. Had to sell the few items I had left, which amounted to the jewelry I had on my wrist, for food.” My forehead creases. “The cops didn’t help. They tried to find him but said there was no hard evidence it was him, so they couldn’t do anything. The shelter was… a godsend. They helped me get back on my feet. Gave me odd jobs here and there to allow me to buy things. Then Ria came in, and my world turned upside down. We hit it off. She offered to help me. Paid for me to finish college, so I studied and got myself a part-time job at a café to afford this place. Man, I owe her so much. I don’t know why she took such a liking to me, but I’m eternally grateful to her for helping me through. I’d still be at the shelter if it weren’t for her.”
Shaking my head with a heavy sigh, I had no idea what she went through. “Wow, that’s crazy. I’m so sorry that happened to you. No wonder you’re weird about dating again. I totally understand why now. What I don’t understand, though, is… where was your family in all of this? Why didn’t they help you when all this shit went down?”
Her face falls, and she sniffs softly, the air shifting around her as her shoulders draw in. She chews on her bottom lip, eyes glassy, and I can tell there’s more behind them than she’s ever said out loud.
“I don’t have any family left,” she says quietly. “I’m an only child. My parents went on a weekend trip upstate… it was supposed to be their first proper getaway without me. I was staying with my grandma when the news broke. There’d been a massive pile-up on the interstate. A fuel tanker lost control in the rain and exploded. Dozens of cars caught fire.” Her voice wavers, the memory cutting deep. “We spent hours glued tothe TV, calling hospitals, police stations, anyone who’d answer. We couldn’t get through to them. Every time the phone rang, I thought it was them. But it never was.” She takes a shaky breath, blinking fast. “They were the kind of people who stopped to help. So when they didn’t come home, we knew. Three days later, the call came. Witnesses said they’d pulled over to try and help people out of their cars when the tanker went up again… they didn’t stand a chance…” her voice breaks, barely above a whisper, “… they went out heroes. And just like that, I was seven years old and an orphan.”
My chest tightens. I reach for her hand, and when my fingers brush hers, a warmth flickers between us. “I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say. They were good people.”
He weakly smiles. “They raised an incredible daughter.”
“Thanks. But Gran had a hand in that too. But unfortunately, she passed when I was eighteen, and after that… it was just me. I had to figure it all out the hard way.”
