My name is Jason. As of this moment, I'm 35 years old. I work for a marketing firm that taglines our services as "the evolution of marketing". Nah, I don't own it or anything. My girlfriend kinda calls me their "bitch boy" because of the tremendous and, most of the time, sudden workload I would get on the fly.
I was born in London, but very quickly soon after, we moved to New York. I was, what... 3? So, yeah, barely a shred of memory there. One would certainly agree that I was more American than anything else.
I met Caitlin many years ago. Her dad would come into the bank (where I was working then) and he would take her with him. She was 16 at the time, still in her catholic school uniform and the somewhat snobby, "I'm better than you" attitude. I was 24, pretty much fresh out of Uni, obnoxious and, yeah, I admit, a bit of a player.
I would see them about twice a week, her dad would enter, the manager would make a call and he and her dad would enter one of the top level offices. Caitlin would be left at the waiting area doing... whatever. The first time, she had a schoolbook. I felt bad for her being alone, so I went over and sat with her.
"Hey kiddo, what're you reading?" I asked.
She looked at up me with a frown, "I'm not a kid, you idiot! I'm 16!" I find it extremely funny that she says it almost syllabically, "i-di-yet!"
Biting my lower lip from grinning, to no success though, I replied, "I was just playing nice. You look nowhere like a kid." What a dumb reply!
She stared at me with piercing eyes for a minute and turned back down to her book. "Go away," she mumbled.
"Would you like a soda?" I asked.
"No," this time, she replied without looking up. "I'm not eight. Go away."
The first few meetings we had were mostly like that. I'd ask how she was and she'd start it out with the "i-di-yet" name-calling. I was just messing really, even handed her one of those big colorful lollipops once, to which she replied with a look as if she was gonna smack me on the face with it.
One day, about a year since our first encounter, they came in and she looked like she had just come from crying, her eyes were still red and puffy. Her dad went on his usual routine, into the big doors and she sat, this time at the corner of the waiting area, her head down and flipped through the huge textbook in her hands.
I stared at her, thoughtful for a moment, and checked to see if my supervisor was around before getting up.
"Hey," I said, taking the seat beside her. "Are you alright?"
She didn't say anything.
I took a peek at the book she was reading, Math.. higher level math, to be specific, algorithms and probability. What??!! She was, like, what, Senior high?
She mustered a sniffle, which brought my attention back to her. "You know, I'm pretty damn good at Math. I could help you a bit, if you'd let me," I told her with a sincere tone. It's true, I'm fuckin fabulous at Math, among other subjects.
She stayed quiet for a moment, thinking maybe. I sat back against the chair, not wanting to be too pushy about it. Her dad must be the strict, over achiever type, not something I was a stranger to. My parents fought a lot because of that. They stayed together but, any dumbass could tell, it wasn't really a harmonious relationship.
I saw my supervisor coming out of her office. I got up to avoid getting into trouble but a "wait" made me turn around.
It was the first time I got to really see her vulnerable side, albeit blushed and puffy from crying". There IS something soft and delicate beneath all that bitchy exterior she used to put on. At the same though, there was a look of unsureness.
"I have to go. My boss might fire me for leaving my desk," I grinned, "I don't really care but, I won't get to see you again, if that happens." I smiled and, the same time, there was like a mental smack to the back of my head about what I'd just said. It sounded exactly like some line a player would use, and she was just a kid. "How about, you think about it and we'll work up something, a day or time when I'm off work."
She bit her lower lip in thought, "I don't know if... my dad would let me," she said, embarrassed about it.
"We'll work something out. He doesn't have to know anything other than your math results at the end of the year," I smiled, "that good?"
She forced a smile and nodded.
I turned back and realized one of my teammates covered for me by intercepting our boss, blocking her sight. I smiled and turned back to Caitlin, "I have to go now, will you be okay?"
She nodded.
About 20 minutes later, her father exits the big office. I turned to check on her, she had tied up her hair and looked much better than when she entered. She watched him take the steps going down, walking over to meet him. She turned to me and handed me a note.
When they left, I opened it. It had her mobile number and a "thank you" written on it. I felt a pat on my shoulder and turn to see the guy who covered for me, with a silly grin on his face. "Congrats dude, you finally got her number."
I shook my head, grinning as well, "Don't be an perv, she's a kid. I was just helping."
He laughed, "You think she's a kid? Better get your eyes checked, Jay. She's hot and far from being a child!" With that, he went back to his desk. I shook my head and went back to work.
I texted her that evening, realizing I didn't even know her name, nor did she know mine. (Yeah, I know, stupid huh? It's been, what, a year?) I wasn't wrong about her father though, so it was definitely a problem getting around him, not that I had any devious plan in mind to manhandle his daughter.
One of our recourses was online chat. I informed her when I was free from work and she would just message me when we could commence our "tutoring". It went pretty well at first. She wasn't slow or anything. Sometimes teachers just aren't very good at explaining in simpler terms but seriously, it was way too advanced for her. Since then, when she came back to the bank with her dad, she would flash me a smile and sit on her usual place by the corner of the waiting area.
Our once cold-shoulder meetings became goofballing around and jokes that only we understood. She even got to meet some of my friends at work and, I'm glad to say, she's warmed up to our environment. Oftentimes, she would open up about her thoughts, her concerns with her parents.
When the topics got too difficult to explain online, we started to meet outside, at parks, at the mall, some fast food place, even if it was during my lunch hour, any bit of time that I could make, I found myself making. We started to click really, she mellowed down and I... well... she was polite enough to laugh at my jokes. I guess I became her friend.
Admittedly by her, she wasn't very sociable with others because of the pace of education her father her through. She would be the youngest in a class or the smarter ones would think she got where she was because of her father's influence, those types of things.
Our meeting at work became more relaxed. On instance, we would toss each other candies from my desk to where she sat or she would actually come to my desk and chat about nothing (in an effort to distract me from meeting the deadline). So, yeah, we became really good friends.
There was a week of vigorous review for a big quiz she had coming. The day after, we met at a park on my lunchbreak. It was a nice day, the sun wasn't glaring, it wasn't too chilly or too warm. She laid down on the grass and I sat leaning against a tree, eating an apple.
She turned and looked at me.
"What?" I asked.
"Will you share your apple with me?" she smiled as she asked.
"Hmm..." I pretended to think, "how about you lay still with your mouth open and I'll toss you a chunk?"
"You're such an idiot! Can you be any less of a gentleman?" she pouted.
