Iturn my back on them both, and walk out of the Dean's office with a new pep in my step. I am sure I feel Hunter's eyes on my ass but maybe it is just a by-product of my run in with the Dean, either way I welcome it, adding a little bit more sass to my step. Maybe later I will wallow in self doubt but for now my mouthy retort at our illustrious Dean and Hunter's strange affirmation, leaves me on top of the world.
That feeling follows me all the way back to my suite. Once inside, double checking that my door is locked, I open all the curtains to enjoy the beautiful view before walking into my study. I place my bag on my desk before settling into the large gray armchair that I have swivelled around to face the window. I grab my mobile and call Grandpa.
"I am sorry Grandpa that he phoned. I just politely reminded him that I am a Bellafonte, but again sorry he interrupted your day," I speak quickly, not even bothering to say hello, but Grandpa will be waiting and will know it is me anyway.
"Oh please, I tore that dip shit a new one. Ginny, his actions were inappropriate, and that is being polite. Admittedly I have also briefed our lawyers. I am not putting up with them pulling this shit, we are only in week four of your being there. Imagine if you didn't have our name, makes me wonder what else is happening at St Joseph’s, now that we are no longer affiliated with the Committee. I was never a fan of Dean Johns. Actually pretty much as soon as I met him, I knew I wouldn’t like him. Now Ginny, I know I said this was about you, but if someone crosses my little girl, well you know I am bound to get a little loud and territorial," Grandpa replies, I hear his chair squeak as he reclines back, no doubt putting his feet up on the desk as well.
"Enough of all that banal stuff, tell me sweetie, how are things going there? Your mother is driving me crazy, by the way," Grandpa muffles into the phone. I visualise him there in his office at our home, balancing the phone under the crink of his neck as he settles back further into his leather office chair, with his black tea on his desk.
"I miss you so much Grandpa. I am not sure I am cut out for the teenage stuff. Boys, girls, teachers with attitudes as big and as bad as my peers. The workload is insane, their expectation almost hurts my shoulders. Like I totally get they are here for academic excellence and understanding what their expectations are and matching them to ours, but they continually threaten us with shame of failure. I am all for motivation but it is almost intrusive,” I shuffle my position in the chair, so that I have my feet curled under my legs before I continue. “They keep spouting that in the real world you need to be able to juggle, honestly if we had employees like this at Bellafonte's we would have cut them before they finished the week," I say as I finally settle down comfortably, ready for a big chat with my Grandpa.
"Are you falling behind?" he asks genuinely interested, not for the sake of having a go.
"Coding. Seriously who would have thought Coding would kick me in the ass. I can understand the diagnostic requirements of interred metals in a chemical composition with a flailing minor sequence, but I can't understand the why's, what’s and how’s of Coding. I have a new tutor though, so I will see how he goes. The Champion of the school actually." I finish and take a breath before I look out at my view again. I hear Grandpa talking softly to Grandma and wait until they finish.
"Gran sends her love, sweetie," he says with an evident note of contentment in his tone. Grandma is and always will be Grandpa’s weakness. I love that he has always told me that too. Maybe that is what I am focused on when I speak next.
"Do you believe in fate?" I ask hesitantly, my eyes close softly and I lay my head back on the back of my chair.
"Fate? If it is meant to be, it is meant to be. My Nonna, bless her little Italian heart, said that to me nearly everyday of my life, you remember..." he starts.
I reply quickly with a giggle, "Of course I remember, how could I not? If you hadn't walked into town that day, you wouldn't have met my Grandma," I smile as I speak with him. The story of how Grandma and Grandpa met is one of the most romantic stories I have ever heard, it is their story.
"But how do you know the difference between fate and hope?" I ask, biting my lip in my concern.
"Verginius, is there anything I need to know about?" Grandpa stops stirring the tea on his chest and I hear him place the china set on his desk. I squeeze my eyes so they stay closed, unsure how to respond to him. But I think it is more that I don’t want to hear his answer, or even my own. The thing with Grandpa, is that he is my all time confidant, I can tell him anything without worry or concern of his judgment. It's not because he loves me unconditionally, but more because he understands me the most, out of anyone in the universe. Exaggerated? Not in the slightest.
"You remember when Mum and I arrived to stay with you after Dad died?" I speak slowly.
"Of course, sweetie. Your mother was a mess and you were my quiet little mouse that followed me around everywhere but said nothing," he says back in his quiet, reflective voice.
"Yeah. You remember my friend that mum never wanted me to talk about?" I offer. I sit up straighter as I speak with him, eventually standing so that I can lean onto the edge of the window, my head to the glass.
"The boy that cut you?" he says very slowly. Why I doubt that Grandpa will remember, I have no idea. I shake my head at myself, annoyed that I thought that.
"He's here Grandpa," my voice falls to a low, quiet whisper and again I squeeze my eyes shut as I speak. I am surprised as a little tear rolls down my face.
"What did you say, Ginny? Speak up, you know I am hard on hearing," again, his words are slowly spoken. He is not hard on hearing, he is testing me. Not in a bad way.
I don't answer for a few moments, not long enough to stretch the silence to uncomfortable but enough for me to think carefully about my words.
"He is here," my voice rings louder as I finally figure out that I just have to accept that Hunter is here, that he is in my life again for some reason. Now I just have to figure out what that reason is, if it is indeed fate.
"Well this just got interesting didn't it, my sweetie," he laughs into the phone, "Do I need to come down and whoop his ass?" I hear the good humor in his voice return, his booming voice clear, telling me that he has my back.
"Nope. Sure makes it interesting though. I just need to figure out what it means. But still isn't that strange, Hunter here at St Joseph's," my eyes follow the people walking in the afternoon as we speak.
"I think there could be a story there Ginny. How about you promise me to keep an open mind on how fate works and I'll promise to keep your mother away from your business until you return. Gin, you got this okay, whatever life throws at you I want you to know that you are my girl, you are the strongest person I know. Now go be an awkward teenager, get drunk, make a bad decision or two, fall in and out of love. Don’t mess with other people's feelings and always be honest. One thing I am adamant about though Ginny, is never play with fate. Do us proud love,” he finishes softly.
I sit back on the chair as I rub away the loneliness from my face, “Always. I miss you so much, Grandpa. I am used to seeing you every day, it’s just weird. I’ll call you in a couple of days. Give everyone my love,” I finish and we both blow a kiss before hanging up the phone.
I snuggle down in my chair for a few minutes and stare out the window, thinking about my Grandpa. He really is my rock. Returning back to the Bellafonte fortune as a tweeny was difficult, particularly as I was mourning my Dad and losing my best friend Hunter. Grandpa is the only one patient enough to coax me out of the little black clouds that used to follow me around. He was the one who was okay with me not talking, until I was ready, and then he was the one to push me to be the person I am today. I mean mum, Grandma and Addy are always there for me but I just had a deeper, stronger relationship with Grandpa. Maybe it was because Dad died and Hunter left, perhaps it was the male connection thing, regardless he was the first person that I turned to for pretty much anything and everything. I even told him about my failed kissing experiment with Jackson.
Eventually, I stop my daydreaming, dragging myself out of my comfy chair to walk over to my desk, looking unenthusiastically, at the work I have scheduled for today. Before I sit though, I grab a tea. Once I do settle and focus on the work in front of me, the time ends up flying past in the blink of an eye. Eager to not mess with my study mojo, I take a break to make some noodles in my room and plow through the pile and send a quick text to our group chat letting everyone know that I am snowed under. I quickly get a series of thumbs up from everyone, except Dom.
During the afternoon, I deliberately ignore the emails that keep hitting my inbox. Looking over them now I am happy I did, my inbox full again with expected reading from today's classes, a couple of papers from Bellafonte's that need my input, and also a schedule of suggested timings from Hunter. Of course, he doesn't provide any greeting, just a timetable.
Opening the attachment I notice that he has scheduled a two-hour study block, every evening for the next few weeks. At least he has given me the party night off. I accept the study schedule, which will update my diary although I change the location to the library instead of my suite. Things got too heated last time we were alone, maybe the librarian's beady gaze and the rows of books will dilute his intensity. I doubt it.
My empty bowl sits on the edge of my desk long forgotten when I finally stop my study session. Looking at the neat piles of organized work I am pretty stoked with my effort. I made good headway on all my assignments, essays and research notes. The decision to stay hidden in my room, focussed rather than getting distracted by Dom's pretty eyes and Hunter, pays off. Pretty sure I can’t hide in my room forever though.
Eventually, the words start to blur as the sentences of Corporate Law run into each other, that is my cue to stop for the night. I treat myself to a quick shower to wash my hair, before I soak in the bubble bath under a sea of bubbles and a face mask. Before jumping into bed, my brain pretty much still buzzes from the information overload, I blow-dry and straighten my long blonde hair, pluck a few errant eyebrows and leave the bathroom, pretty happy with myself.
I fall asleep watching Netflix and eating a bag of my favourite candy snakes.
