Chapter 25

Tyler looks like he's considering sitting in the empty space next to me, but then motions to Mark and Alex, indicating that one of them should sit there. They both do, Alex in Mark's lap. Tyler grabs a chair from a nearby table and sits at the head of the table. Wise choice. Savannah just goes silent the whole time and just keeps staring at the table, her eyes dark. Everyone just chats, not about any specific topic. Sometimes they chat as a group, other times they chat in little groups, and I just stay back to observe. I always found it kind of mesmerizing, how there are lots of different people with lots of different stories, and if fate wishes them either good or bad luck, their stories might intertwine.

At some point I suddenly feel Savannah's breath on my neck, and hear her whisper.

"Would it be alright if we did this evening instead of Friday?" she asks. I'm confused so I turn to her.

"Where we supposed to do something on Friday?" She looks kind of hurt, the darkness in her eyes still there. She looks grumpy, more than usual. She looks like a grumpy bear.

"We were supposed to go out with the girls, but since we're already out this afternoon and the guys are here too, we might go out this evening directly." Oh right. I forgot.

"It would be fine by me." So she turns to the group and asks everyone. The only person who says no is Tyler and, weirdly, Savannah tries to convince him to come, and succeeds. What? I thought she hated him. But, since it's already late, we decide to stand up, take a trip in the park, then find some place to eat.

We get out of the mall, Savannah walking by my side, the girls, Mark and Alex, who are all lovey dovey, in front of us and the guys behind. Ava turns to talk to Savannah in an awkward way, since she's holding Jane's hand, and Savannah goes by her side so they can talk properly. Just like magic, Tyler apparates by mine.

"Hey." I try.

"Hi." He responds. There are a few moments of silence. I wouldn't know if to call them embarrassing or peaceful. I like this guy. He seems like the genuine kind. I like genuine people, they'd probably be the black sheep in this side of the city. Then he says: "She doesn't seem to like me much."

"Who?"

"Your girlfriend."

"Oh, Savannah?" I give a little laugh. "She isn't my girlfriend."

"Ah. In that case may I ask you again for your number?" I see Savannah's head tilt slightly towards us, and both Tyler and I look straight ahead at her, but I chose to ignore her and give him my number.

"One thing, I'm giving it to you as a friend." I add.

"Huh? Yeah, sure. So, by the way, my name's Tyler, for the third time, nice to meet you."

I laugh and shake his hand while I say "For the third time and this time properly, nice to meet you too."

We talk about random stuff. Turns out he goes to my same school, even though I don't think I ever saw him. Then, I might be wrong, going out of the toilets that time Savannah wanted me to meet her there, I saw a blonde guy with hair almost reaching his shoulder turn the corner. I didn't see his face, but his hair seemed to match Tyler's. He also plays basketball, he invited me to one of his games, and is also passionate about astronomy. I asked him if he was into quantum mechanics too, apparently that was his favourite kind of science. Meaning I hope I'll get the chance to listen to him explain to me how molecules work for hours, if we'll ever be friends. I love quantum mechanics, but don't know much about it. We talk about some cosmology theories, then, when I mention the multiverse theory, we start coming up with possible universes. He talks about universes where Michael Jackson would be still alive so he wishes himself a good time to the concert he's going to right now, since MJ's his favourite singer. I say that I wish my past self a happy time at the Meghan Trainor's concert I went to when I was ten. I already know I had a good time, but I still wish one to be kind. He then asks me if she's my favourite singer, but I answer no, because she isn't. She used to be though, and that's what I tell him.

"So who's your favourite artist?"

"Salvador Dalì." I answer.

He chuckles, bumps into me slightly, and says "I meant musical artist."

"Good, because that was a lie, I think Van Gogh is my favourite, though I'm not sure. I don't know who's my favourite artist. I don't think I have a favourite, I just get obsessed with a song until I get bored with it, find a new one, and move on. Who's your favourite artist? And I mean visual artist."

"I wouldn't know. I don't like Van Gogh much, too popular, too classy. I think something from the early '900s."

"Ugh, I don't like art from the twentieth century."

"But you like Van Gogh?"

"Yeah."

"Pff, lame."

"Excuse me? Van Gogh is amazing. Like the way he captures the deepness in everything, as if every single thing in that painting had a soul, and he captures exactly that. Plus the lines are perfect. I have discovered in middle school that messing up simple lines like that is very easy."

"Fair."

"I also like Escher a lot. I could stare at his art for years and not get bored. It is truly mesmerizing."

"You do know he was born on the one before the last year of the nineteenth century, right? He's practically from the twentieth."

"Shut up, I know. He's the only one from that period that I like."

"I have the feeling you're hiding the truth."

I giggle and say "Shut up." even though he's partly true. Some art is really good.

"You know, you didn't quite strike me as the cultured, intellectual type." I hear Ava say.

"Neither did I think she was." Savannah and Jane say just after, in unison. All the girls and the guys look impressed. I blush and look down, hiding my face. I never thought of myself neither as cultured nor as intellectual.