Page 4 of Fated Love with You

“Um, can I get either of you some, uh…” A server suddenly steps in front of our table, her fingers trembling against the notepad. “Coffee? Tea?”

“I’ll have hot tea in a glass cup, with milk and two shots of vanilla,” Miss Temple says. “Mr. Rochester will take his usual blend of coffee that matches his soul, I’m sure.”

“You remembered,” I say, turning to the server. “I’ll take a small black coffee in a paper cup, to-go.”

“Yes, sir.” She rushes away without another word.

“Like I was saying—” Miss Temple clears her throat. “Adeline only follows the rules when she feels like it, and she hardly ever feels like it. What do you think that means?”

Like father, like daughter.“It means she’s a seven-year-old child.”

“She turns eight next month.”

“Don’t expect an invitation to her birthday party.”

“I’d rather receive a change in her behavior.” She leans closer, narrowing her eyes. “Issues aside, I think she’s one of the most talented violinists in the world, and if she were to become more disciplined over the years, I think she’d etch her way into the history books as the best of all time.”

I say nothing.

“But if she continues being defiant during the symphony rehearsals, skipping class with the maestros because she ‘knows this stuff already,’ and flying home on a whim, she’ll never live up to her full potential.”

“Anything else I need to know?”

“Just the usual.” Her expression softens. “She slipped out of her dormitory minutes after the nightly headcount. Security didn’t catch on to her absence until she made it to the airport.”

“What did her note say this time?”

“Read it yourself.” She pulls a sheet of paper from her purse, sliding it across the table as the server returns.

Dear Whoever Finds This,

I HATE this school, and I loathe everything about every single one of you.

Especially Miss Temple.

I’m not learning anything new & I can outperform you all in my sleep.

IN. MY. SLEEP.

Drop dead and cry in your graves.

I’m flying home to my dad.

Thanks for nothing.

Adeline

P.S.My dad hates all of you, too.

He told me so.

Jesus, Adeline…

These words aren’t as cruel as her last few letters, but her insistence on running away and frequently flying home is putting things in serious jeopardy.

Only a few people in my life are aware of her existence, and I’ve done my best to keep it that way since she can’t live with me in Seattle full-time.

At least, not yet.