Chapter 82: Chapter 82

Burney’s was dim and smoky, the kind of joint that smelled like stale coffee and wet coats on a night like this. I claimed a corner booth, legs bouncing under the table. This wasn’t buzzing me like it should—Cora was a wildcard, all sharp edges and quiet stares, and I’d let her drag me into this “date” without much fight. Felt more like walking a ledge than chasing a spark.

I fished a smoke from my pack, flicked the lighter, and pulled in deep. The rain hammered the window like it had a grudge, blurring the streetlights into smears. My eyes drifted to Kim’s car out front, parked crooked under the awning.

Footsteps splashed through the door, and there she was. Cora, hair a wild tangle of black, dark smudges under her eyes like she’d forgotten sleep existed. Same baggy t-shirt hanging off her frame, same faded jeans—oversized everything, like she was hiding in plain sight. She spotted me, froze for a beat, then shuffled over, shoulders hunched against the downpour clinging to her clothes.

I pushed up from the seat, hand out for a shake, forcing a grin. “Hey.”

“H-h-hey.” Her palm was cool and damp in mine, grip limp before she yanked it back quick. She slid into the booth across from me, voice cracking on the edges. “Ssorry I’m l-l-late.”

“No worries. I just got here anyway.” I dropped back down as she did, waving off the apology. “What’re you having? Their mochas are worth trying.”

“I-I’ll… black coffee.” She tucked a strand of that mess behind her ear, eyes flicking to the table, then me, then away. Her fingers twisted the menu’s edge like it owed her money.

The waitress swung by a second later, notepad flipped open, pen hovering like she was half-asleep on her feet. Mid-twenties, bleach-blonde hair pulled back tight, uniform wrinkled from the rush.

“What can I get you two?” she asked, eyes on me first.

“Two black coffees,” I said, nodding toward Cora. “Strong as they come.”

She jotted it down quick, glanced at me, then to Cora. “Anything else?”

“No, thanks,” I replied.

She gave a respectful nod and walked off.

“You, uh, Cora,” I tapped ash off my cigarette, then shot her a look. “You smoke at all?”

She shook her head fast, that tangle of hair bouncing. “No. Never really… got into it.”

I took a drag, letting the smoke curl out slow. “I quit cold for a couple years back in college—thought it was messing with my runs. But then work piled up, deadlines everywhere, and boom, I’m chain-lighting these things again just to keep my head straight. Bad habit, but it sticks, you know?”

Cora’s lips twitched into a small, shaky smile, her fingers still shredding the menu’s corner. “I-I tried it once. In high school. One drag and I was coughing my lungs out for, like… two days straight. Felt like I was dying. Never touched it again.”

I chuckled, low and easy, the sound cutting through the rain’s steady drum outside. “Sounds about right. First one’s always a killer.”

She let out a soft laugh too—nervous, breathy, like it surprised her to make the noise. Her cheeks flushed a little, eyes darting to her lap before flicking back up.

The waitress was back in under two minutes, mugs clinking down on the table, steam rising thick and black. “Here you go. Holler if you need a top-off.”

“Thanks,” I said, giving her a nod as she shuffled off. I wrapped my hands around the mug, the heat seeping into my palms, and took a sip—bitter kick, just how I liked it. Cora mirrored me, blowing gently on hers before tasting, her shoulders easing a fraction as the warmth hit.

The silence between us was… weird. The steam from the coffees curled up between us, twisting in the light and making the room feel smaller, more intimate.

I cleared my throat, the rasp sounding louder than I wanted. Exhaling, I tried to look relaxed, but my fingers tapped against the mug nervously. She let out a quiet, almost shy chuckle, one corner of her lips lifting as if amused by my discomfort.

“Y-you,” she stammered, glancing down at her coffee before back at me, “working morning or night shift today?”

“The boss gave us five days off,” I said, forcing a casual shrug. “Um… where do you work? Or are you still at university?”

“Still going to university,” she replied, her tone soft but confident, though her fingers fidgeted with the edge of the cup. “With my sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” I said. “Wish I had siblings too. It gets… boring when you’re alone, you know?”

She nodded slowly, taking a small sip of coffee, then placed the cup down. Her eyes met mine again, and for a moment, the awkward tension softened, though the silence returned, pressing down like a weight neither of us knew how to break.

“Y-y-you,” she began, clutching her coffee like it was her lifeline. “Do you… have anyone in your life? Like a… a girlfriend, heh-heh.”

To buy myself some time, I took a sip of my coffee, letting the warmth settle in. Anyone in my life? Fuck. Jasmine. Tessa. Kim. Kayla—though we didn’t see each other much. Thanks to the system, I knew more women now than I ever had before.

“Um, no,” I replied, finally looking up. “I’m not really looking for a girlfriend. I’ve got a lot to focus on right now.”

“Right,” she said, her eyes locking with mine for a moment. “Gotta focus on life, yeah…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Especially not now. I think I’m getting paranoid, you know? I swear someone broke into my house a few days ago, but… I can’t be sure. I was sick at the time.”

“O-oh,” Cora said, glancing at her phone. “I… I forgot to… call my sister.”

I arched an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden shift in the conversation. “Okay…”

“I’ll be right back,” she muttered, her voice trailing off as she stood up.

I just sat there for a second, confused as hell. Then I reached for my cigarette, took a long drag, and let the smoke burn its way out of my lungs. The coffee on the table had gone lukewarm, but I drank it anyway. Bitter, strong. It fit the moment.

My phone buzzed.

Ivy’s text showed up:

’When are you coming? This piece of junk needs repairing.’

She also attached a photo of Delilah’s old, battered computer.

I typed back: ’In an hour.’

Locked the phone and set it on the table.

After a few minutes, Cora appeared, that same strange smile on her face.

“Sorry,” she said softly.

“It’s fine,” I replied with a small smile. “How’s the coffee? You like it?”

“I like it,” she said, settling into the chair across from me. “It’s really good.”

“It is,” I nodded. “Never seen this place make a bad cup. Baristas actually know their stuff.”

“Y-yeah,” she muttered, fidgeting.

I carried the conversation, though it felt like I was forcing it. Was I keeping her here? Or was she just complicated like that?

“Hope I’m not forcing you into drinking coffee with me,” I said, smiling faintly. “If you feel uncomfortable—”

“No!” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just… bad at… uh, having—conversation. Sorry.”

“You say sorry a lot,” I teased lightly.

“Yeah…” She looked down, twisting her hands.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I enjoy quiet sometimes. We don’t need words to enjoy company, right?”

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EVENT

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Cora’s Interest +50

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The fuck? Damn girl, calm down. I didn’t realize what I said would trigger this kind of reaction.

She blushed faintly. “Thank you… heh-heh.”

Scary smile, messy appearance, but she wasn’t a bad person.

We talked for a while, about the weather in this shitty city, how brutal the concert had been yesterday, and what kind of music she liked. I have to admit… this was one of the weirdest interactions I’d had in a long time. She had no clue how a real conversation worked. Her eyes stayed glued to me more than normal, and sometimes she’d chuckle at the absolute wrong moments, making me blink like, what the hell?

She was a good listener, though. Not like my ex. Huh… never thought I’d compare my ex to a girl like Cora. Even though everything about this little “date” was awkward… at least the coffee was solid.

“I, uh,” I said, checking my phone. “I need to go. Got to fix a buddy’s computer.”

“Oh,” she replied, her shoulders slumping. “Okay.”

“I’ll drop you off,” I offered. “I borrowed my friend’s car today.”

“N-no,” she said quickly. “I can go on my own. I need to… visit my sister anyway.”

“Is she close by? I could—”

“We live together,” she cut in, almost defensive. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Hmm,” I muttered, grabbing my wallet from my back pocket. “So… um… see you again?”

“Yep,” she said, her smile strange. “See you again. Always.”

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