The Secret Manuscript
Page 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ben took the note out of his pocket and stared at the number. This time, it would not be used to unlock a mysterious door to a secret room; he had a much more common use for it. Standing in front of a payphone, Ben inserted some coins and then dialed the number.
After a few rings, a soft voice answered and Ben did his best not to sound nervous. He had read a few more chapters in the manuscript and there was no mention of her at all. For this conversation, he was flying solo. In the original story of Ben’s life, he never got the girl, so it was now up to him to keep her — a task that was easier said than done. Any ongoing relationship that transpired between him and Vanessa would rely solely on Ben’s wit and charm, which up until that point in his life was non-existent. Ben mustered a few cohesive sentences and attempted a few jokes. Eventually, he convinced her to see him.
The bus arrived at the university campus a little after four o’clock. Ben exited and ran to the coffee shop. When he finally arrived, he burst through the door and looked around. Panting and sweaty, Ben looked at his watch — he was twenty minutes late and Vanessa was nowhere in sight.
Dammit! he thought.
Figuring that Vanessa grew tired of waiting and left, Ben went to the washroom. He thought about how he had toyed with fate to get a girl he was never supposed to get, and presumed this was the universe’s way of correcting course. Ben dispensed a large swath of paper towel and dried his hands before leaving.
As he exited, he saw Vanessa coming through the front doors of the coffee shop. Being caught off-guard and nervous, blood rushed to his face. She looked around, and once she spotted him, she waved.
“Hi Ben,” she said as she approached. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay.”
“My class ran a little bit longer than usual,” she said, taking off her jacket and sitting down. “Our prof was handing back our assignments.”
Vanessa looked stunning. Her toned body suggested she was no stranger to the gym, or yoga perhaps. Her clothes were new and fashionable. She was the complete opposite of Ben. His thin and wiry frame had never seen the inside of a gym and he was wearing the stolen clothes of a stranger. Fashion was definitely not his forte, but Vanessa didn’t seem to mind. She actually seemed to respect that part about him. Unlike many other guys she had encountered, Ben was just being himself and not trying to impress her. It was obvious he did not care what others thought about him.
“So how did you do on your assignment?”
“I got an A-, but I think I could have done better. It’s just really hard to know what the profs are looking for, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“So, what have you been up to?” she asked.
“Not much.”
“How’s the editing coming along?”
“What editing?”
“You were editing your manuscript the last time I saw you.”
“Oh yeah, right. Um… it’s going okay, I suppose.”
There was a noticeable difference between their first meeting and the second. To Vanessa, Ben seemed unusually awkward, and she could not figure out why. On their previous meeting, Ben had exuded so much confidence, but after only a few short sentences, she felt like he was a completely different person than the one she had met before. Without the aid of the manuscript, it was as if Ben were a superhero who had suddenly lost his powers. He was back to being his regular self and had to think of something quickly.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked.
“Sure, I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Ben returned a few minutes later holding two medium-sized hot chocolates.
“Here you go,” he said as he carried the cup over to her. Due to his nerves, his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He fumbled to set the drink down, and when he finally did, he tipped it over, spilling the hot liquid all over her. Vanessa reacted quickly and avoided the scolding beverage, but it drenched her jacket.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry.” Ben pleaded. “Here, let me get you some napkins,” he said as he rushed off.
He considered the incident to be another sign from the universe telling him not to meddle with the natural order of things. It seemed as though some external force was trying to sabotage him, or at least that was the story he told himself.
When Ben returned, he saw the full extent of the damage — the coat was ruined. Though he had less than fifty dollars to his name, he still offered to buy her a new coat.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll just have it dry cleaned.”
“At least let me pay for your dry cleaning,” he insisted. Ben reached into his wallet, took out a twenty-dollar bill, and handed it to her. “If it costs more, just let me know.”
Ben was too humiliated to continue the date, so he apologized profusely, and then ran out the door.