Mr. Ventura answered my question before I left the home, but the answer to my question isn't one worth sharing; the answer may disappoint you.
So I'll refrain from boring you, for the time being, unless you're already bored. If so, then I apologize.
After leaving Olympia's home, I walked myself home, greeted my parents, then my sister, and then I fell into bed. I slept like a log, which is what I wish I could say. But unfortunately, I received a text message. By whom, you may ask?
Miss Perfect.
Kiyo kiyo. Are you ready to go witch hunting? I know we rendezvoused at midnight last night, and it's getting close to 8, but I had an idea. How about we have dinner before our hunt? They say the early bird gets the worm, but what's the good of waking early without energy? Albeit, we won't be eating this witch (maybe a sandwich), but still. And instead of breakfast, this'll be dinner, but who said we can't have breakfast for dinner? Well, we won't, so I guess I am. Let's meet for a bite at 9, so that gives you a little over an hour to get ready. I'll send you the address.
P.S. You're paying!
What a pain. After pulling an all-nighter last night, it seems like I'll have to pull another one today. This lack of sleep has already been getting to me, so I guess I'll take a nap until it's time to head out.
When I awake, the phone tells me that it's 10 at night.
In other words, my phone tells me that I'm royally screwed.
The one time I'd appreciate my sister waking me from my sleep, she doesn't! I probably should've asked her to do so for me.
I slept for a little over two hours, but I still don't feel energized. I feel better than before, but only slightly. I wish I were still getting my eight hours of sleep. Wait— This isn't a time to be worrying about my sleep deprivation! Olympia's going to kill me once she finds me! Screw hunting witches. Olympia's going to be hunting me! Is this how women felt during the Salem Witch Trials? Hell, what am I saying? My situation and those trials are nothing alike. One was due to hysteria and hatred towards women, the other because I stood someone up.
Gah! There is no time to be overanalyzing this whole ordeal! I need to see if Olympia is still waiting for me! Well, better late than never! Guess I'm as bad as an early bird. In this case, even worse.
Again, I leave my home without informing my parents or my little sister. In other words, I snuck out, again. I seriously need to apologize to my sister once I get the chance.
As I head to the address Olympia sent me, which seems to be a…maid café? An odd choice for dinner. A maid café? Maybe Olympia chose it because it's absurd—a place that doesn't fit the usual. Or maybe it fits her too well, and that's what's bothering me. I wonder if they've memorized her go-to order.
As I headed to the rendezvous point, a mysterious figure appeared just around the corner of the café. The same mysterious figure the night before. It's not as late as when I first saw him, so I can see his face a little more clearly. It's still hard for me to distinguish specific features about his face, but it looks like there's a scar under his left eye. His eyes are empty, fixed on me yet somehow focused beyond—as if watching something lurking just out of sight.
Again, I feel tense around him, yet my body feels loose, comfortable in his presence. I don't know who he is, nor do I know his relationship with Olympia. Nonetheless, I feel safe around him. At least, I think I do. My body says so, but my mind says otherwise. But my mind only disagrees because of the context of our encounters. Both times we've crossed paths were in the midst of the night, in which the only two people occupying the area were us. Both times I ran into him, I was on my way to Olympia. That can't be a coincidence
It's obvious that there's something that he wants to say to me, but nothing comes out of his mouth. His expression is blank, as if he's waiting for me to initiate the conversation.
Seeing that I was hesitant to strike up a conversation, he took the lead, "On a date, are we?"
I froze. Was it a date? No way. But the thought made my heart race anyway.
"D-Date? No, I'm just here to meet a friend," I frantically respond.
"Oh? Is that so? You're meeting this friend at a café at 10 at night? Sounds like a date to me. But what do I know? You know, this café is rather pricy. Did you bring enough funds for this place?"
With this question, it finally hits me: I forgot to bring my wallet. In such a rush to not make Olympia wait any longer, I forgot to bring the most essential thing to bring to a place to eat. Will I have to ask her to pay? No—worse. Will I owe her? Will I become one more person she has to carry?
"Here," he interrupts my frantic panicking, "this should be enough to cover the two of you. Just so you know, for next time, Olympia is someone who's not afraid to pay for someone else, but it'd be nice if she didn't have to worry about others or herself, right? Consider this my way of saying thank you for doing your best at making Olympia happy." He grabs my hands, opens my palm, and places a $100 bill in what was a broke grip. "Don't worry about having to pay me back. You've done enough. But if I were you, I'd run as fast as I could. Since she considers you a friend, she's not afraid to give you an earful. Don't take advantage of this, her true kindness. Well, best be off. What does she say, again? Oh, that's right. Ciao, ciao."
He turns around and heads to the corner leading to the café. I follow suit, but as soon as I turn the corner, I notice that he's long gone.
Guess the only thing I can do, the only thing I should do right now, is run as fast as I can—heart pounding, breath ragged.