With rising trepidation, my eyes remain fixed on Zander's back as he strides purposefully down to the very end of the café and slides into a booth with two female customers embarrassed but thrilled, their faces betraying everything. How did Zander know it wasn't a guy who wrote that letter? And is he even at the right table?

Sighing, I take a quick moment to look at the napkin again and a sinking feeling akin to minimal pain hits me, the contents were explicitly clear – I should know my place. I had no right to flirt and make a slut out of myself with someone out of my league. I was dull and in they're more than colourful words, trying far too hard.

Ouch.

It stings but I'm used to all this; I'm used to the candid names, the hateful glances, and the subtle hints implying I wasn't meant to be apart of 'the crowd.' By no means is Catherine Lewis worthy of anything but malice or in some instances, sympathy. I dealt with a lot of prejudice and scorn growing up without Gran, false sympathy reflected in the faces of many. I knew they were judging me and assumed I was destined for insignificance rather than greatness, being a child so easily given up on and tossed aside. 

"WHAT THE HELL?"

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"

Startled, I realise I've done it again, I've taken another trip down to the past. Vigorously shaking my head to bring myself back to the present, I look over to the now furious and malicious females who're on their feet, huffing and puffing.

"Are you calling me a bitch?"

"All I'm saying is that you need to apologise to my friend, got it?" Zander doesn't even flinch from accusatory nail jabbed in the air and aimed for his face.

"Why should I even? She's flirting with no shame, so openly and with someone she doesn't belong with."

"And God made you the judge of that, is that right?"

"Whatever. I was just telling her where her place is."

"Yeah, and I'm telling you that you better apologise."

"Why?"

"Because the contents of that napkin weren't very nice, and that's putting it mildly because if you were guys, you wouldn't even be able to stand in front of me for saying stuff like that."

"So you're calling us bitches and now you're threatening us?"

"No. Like I said, I'm just here to demand an apology because you two have no goddamn right to pass something like that to anyone."

Their mouths hang open and so does mine. Is Zander Nolan sticking up for this pathetic piece of a woman? I'm not the only one stunned because other customers who have filed in stare at the scene, not to mention the staff excitedly looking on from the side – their jobs neglected and forgotten for the moment.

"You can't do this to us!" One of the women screeches, her face beet red from embarrassment.

"That didn't stop you from doing something so irrevocably stupid to my friend."

Grunting, the first woman stomps her foot, "What an asshole!"

"If you were going to be like this, we would have never taken interest." Ah, so this whole time, their objective was Zander, not me? It wasn't mere spite but their desire to make a pass at Zander and be noticed, to be in my place and have a chance. 

"Yeah, if I'm an asshole for sticking up for someone who isn't in the wrong then it's my sin to bear. But making her feel like a piece of shit isn't something I'm willing to condone, so I suggest you apologise while I'm being nice." Gulping at the icy tone and emphasis on the word 'nice' my jaw hangs open.

"And what are you going to do to us? Hit us?" The mockery in her tone makes everyone in the café frown. Only an immature imbecile with the brains the size of a mosquito's would say something so juvenile.

"No, because no man should hit women. What I will do is take that napkin you wrote on and show it to someone who holds a law degree."

"You can't do shit to us!"

"Yeah, and see right there. You looked awfully unattractive. If you want attention then get it from someone easy. Don't harass random strangers because I wouldn't bat an eye at an insect quivering for attention."

 I'm in semi-minor shock. Somehow, I've managed to perch against the very edge of the booth cushion because my eyes are seeing the unbelievable while my mind still tries to process the entire scene. My daze is only brought to an end by the round of applause by spectators. Blinking, I search the crowd of onlookers to see satisfaction written on their faces. Like father, like son right? He's captivated all of them with his chivalry but frankly, I'm not so sure I'm in favour of Zander's good-hearted intentions.

I'm grateful for him sticking up for me, but these women, yes women were no different than the vast majority of females playing the game of dark matchmaking – they see a goal, and they aim for it, investing everything they have into it. Including their dignity and the flip side of it was that desperate, unheeding men did the same as well. Zander may have just been the apple of their eyes momentarily because of his looks, but down the line they'll find another sorry soul to lure in, and the likes of these love hunters will only trample the good-hearted ones who fall first, and when they fall, they can hardly get back up.

This is why love scares me, but more than anything my brief experience with what I thought was once love, opened my eyes to the negative aspects of it. It isn't fairytales and happy endings, maybe that sounds redundant coming from someone who supposedly matches people with their 'destined other' but all I want to do is save the innocent love people grew up knowing. The money and lack of social contact being an added bonus. Or maybe its just something greater I'm denying since my own happiness and fairytale ending will never come true, why not see it through others? And I'm most likely denying this truth because it's cynical, but the truth usually is.

"Catherine!" Coming to my senses, I glance up to see Zander looking down at me with concern once more.

"What?"

"Let's go, a place like this shouldn't even let people like them in."

"...Yeah." Throwing my parka back on, I follow him out the door and silently walk down the salted sidewalk, my head down and my hands firmly fisted in my pockets.

I'm swimming in my own dark thoughts again when my head hits Zander's chest and I walk right into his tall figure. "Don't you have anything to say?"

 "Um, thank you?"

"Not that. Cupcake, you okay?"

"...Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Ye – "

"Because I'm not okay. And you're not okay. And what they did is not okay." The sun's already set and early darkness brought by the season makes the lights outside shine brighter. From where he's standing, the streetlights shed more light on his face which seethes with mildly contained rage.

"It's not even a big deal," I reply, my voice distant. 

"How come? Because I'm still exceedingly pissed."

"If you're pissed about something so trivial, then –

"Its not trivial Catherine, what they said was offensive. Having it written down makes it even worse. Flirting? Out of your league? Conniving bitch? Who are they to say that? What the hell is wrong with people these days?"

"They were just desperate."

"Like hell they were."

"Well what can I do? I can't undo reading the napkin."

"You could have yelled, stuck up for yourself!"

"And caused a scene? What do you want me to do? Start a cat-fight? Stoop to their level and say the same things? Do you even know me? I'm the textbook definition of non-confrontational!"

"This isn't the time for self-righteousness!"

Exhaling a shaky breath, I settle on being more candid than what's my usual level of comfort, "I'm not being self-righteous, I just don't want to be like them! I don't want to reach their level of villainy."

"Maybe not with someone you know, but they're strangers. You have every right too."

"I'm not made of iron nerves as you, it's not in my blood to confront evil to its face. I don't like attention, and I don't like clashing with people who are a waste of time and space."

"How come?"

"...Because I'll be the one regretting it in the end." At this present moment, I'm completely vulnerable, my eyes watering and my heart already falling down to the pits of my gut. I've had enough. It was a mistake following him out here, it was a mistake stepping a foot out of the apartment complex, and it was a mistake ever reading that damn napkin.

It doesn't take Zander long before he visibly softens at my crumbling composure, "Wait, you've been through this before, haven't you?"

"Think whatever you like, I just really want to forget everything."

"Don't let them ruin your day, Catherine. That's letting them win."

"I'm not. You're the one upset."

"Can you blame me?"

Sighing, I look up to the sky and close my eyes before directing my attention back to very inquisitive eyes, "no I can't, but try understanding me a little?"

"I try to understand you everyday, but this I don't get."

"Then don't."

"It isn't that simple."

"Why not?" Silence. He stops talking, but the heaviness in the expression he gives me really mystifies me. We may be neighbours but this makes absolutely no sense – why should he even bother with me?

"It's just not like that Catherine." Suspicion mounts and a tingle of something alien travels up my spine, through my arms, and down my legs.

Sighing, I can only give him a small, forced smile, "forget it. Let's just forget anything ever happened." Turning around, I start marching towards the bus stop.

"Your friend is going to kill me when she finds out this happened." His whispered words make me halt into place and turn back like a stiff statue. Those people back at the café might have scared, upset, and ruined my day but Celia will eat me alive for not speaking out. Zander's rage is minimal in comparison to what Celia will do.

The horror must be written on my face because he's grabbing hold of my shoulders and scanning my face, "what? What is it?"

"She's going to kill me."

"Who?"

"Celia."

"What? No, she'll dig her claws into me, I'm sure." Shaking my head, my lower lip quivers and this alarms him, "you're serious? Okay, I won't let her anywhere near you."

That's a promise that's full of empty words, she'll gnaw the truth out of me and once she does...I'm a goner. My friend has temperamental issues, and she'll be livid once she discovers I let them walk all over me.

"Now I'm scared to even go home."

"That bad, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"Hmm, in that case. Let's not go home. We didn't get to enjoy that coffee, let's go somewhere else."

"Like the first experience wasn't bad enough?"

Zander's lips form into a hard line as he gives me a pensive look, "We were just unfortunate to be there at the same time as them. Normal, sane people don't obsess with a stranger's attention like that."

"But they barge into someone's apartment demanding eggs and eat their food?" I ask, my voice low. Expecting a defensive reply, I'm a little surprised to hear a chuckle escape his lips.

"See, the old Cupcake is already back."

I want to tell him that there is no 'old Cupcake' because that isn't even my real name, and that he was still unfamiliar to me as a person – just how close does he think we are?

"C'mon a second experience won't kill you."

Sighing, I give in to his more than eager face and those damn pleading eyes. Nodding in assent, we cross the street at a stop sign and locate another coffee place a little further down. Walking in, I sigh in relief to see that most customers were an older age group reading worn out novels or newspapers. Best of all, every individual was minding his or her own business, not even remotely interested to their surroundings.

Ordering a drink each, we manage to find a vacant table and take a seat there, both of us obviously thinking of the other café but not admitting it to the other person.

"Damn, this might have been a bad idea," Zander admits, abashed. 

Ha. Now he wants to go home? I'm tempted to be mean and say, 'I told you so' but he was actually wrong. This second experience is like a gust of fresh air to my lungs, it was refreshing and much needed. I might not be able to sleep at night because of the whole napkin incident, but this second attempt at a coffee place doesn't make me want to hide under a rock and avoid any place that has to do with coffee for the rest of my life.

"It's a little helpful," I appease the egoist by giving him the right amount of praise because he grins from ear to ear.

"Good, because I'm still pissed at what happened."

"It could have been worse."

Much, much worse.

"No it couldn't have, especially considering what I thought when you first got the napkin." Raising a questioning eyebrow, I wait for him to shed a tremendous amount of light on that, my mind drawing a blank.

"You really don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Catherine. I thought some guy was asking for your number." Having taken a sip of coffee right at that second, I begin choking and coughing – classic. That's just a classic bit of logic.

In my current state, no one was going to ask for my number. I was an unattractive, bundled up mess. "With me looking like this?" I blubber, astonished to say the least.

"What's wrong with the way you look?"

"Currently, everything."

"What makes you say that?"

My God, are his eyes even open? I'm a disaster. My hair as usual, is messy and unkempt, my glasses have on more than one occasion fogged up because of the cold, and I'm wearing two thick layers of sweaters underneath my jacket – I'm a walking whale.

"That'll never happen. Trust me."

"And I don't see how that's not going to happen."

Oh the irony of my future client discussing his Matchmaker's love life. "I don't care for it," I proffer with an air of finality. 

"So that's it," leaning back in his chair, a grin replaces the frown on his face.

"What?"

"So that's why you haven't fallen for my charm."

"Wha – "

"That explains a lot."

"Am I supposed to?" I ask slowly, not really sure how to react to such a blatant statement, does he even realise that he's admitted to being egotistical?

"Of course!"

Hesitantly, I just shake my head, "Really?"

"Cupcake, that's offensive."

"Um..."

"I am the male equivalent of Achilles' heel, a weakness for all women."

Sighing in exasperation at the depth of his self-obsession, he waits for an affirmative reply but with one dramatic sweep of my hand, I grab my coffee and sip on it, choosing silence – it's golden after all.

"...This is where you say yes," Zander imposes smugly to my absolute discomfort.

"Yes to what?"

"Playing dumb isn't going to get you away from this Catherine."

"I don't know what you mean."

"There's no way you're immune." Raising my cup again, his face becomes the only visible thing as I peek over its rim. His eyes narrow and a small smirk perks at the edge of his mouth.

Asshole. I'm trying to discover a way to obtain immunity, but I obviously can't voice this out loud.

"There's a variety of diseases in the world, you just don't happen to be my disease. And Achilles is just another character of myth, meaning nonexistent and irrelevant to my personal life." I've either said the right thing or something offensive because he stays quiet, only nodding slowly.

After a moment's pause, he whispers something I wasn't expecting, "Impressive."

"Huh?" Here I am waiting for an immature outburst, but he only brushes off what I said by playing cool. And this is a Zander Nolan that somewhat terrifies me, cold and calculating is hard to grasp when all I've seen is a hyperactive puppy of sorts.

"You know Cupcake, I can see why the people around you stick to you like glue."

People around me? And again, are his eyes open? The only people around me are Celia and Ms. Zhao and if things continue, where I'm stuck with Zander and Patrick then Mona and Randy might be sticking around me whether I like it or not.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Plenty. If you're done your drink, we should get going."

Titling my head sideways, my eyebrows furrow questioningly but he avoids answering me. Instead, he puts his jacket back on and points to the entrance. Paying for the drinks, he waits for me to finish mine and then I'm throwing my parka back on, bracing myself for the cold awaiting me.

Stepping outside, a cold shiver runs down my back as the night air becomes thin and frosty, wind gusts blowing by, hitting my face raw in the face. "I really hate winter," I declare tearfully, dawdling next to Zander as we walk down the now nearly deserted mini-downtown area.

"It has its perks."

"Like what?" I ask pessimistically, still shivering.

"Skiing, tobogganing, snowboarding, skating..."

"Pff yeah, everything for athletic people."

 Raising a skeptical eyebrow towards me, I can sense the disbelief on his face, "there has to be something you like to do?"

Giving him the blankest look I can muster, I watch in silence as his eyes widen, "seriously?" Shrugging my shoulders lightly, I continue my dawdle but a hand grabs onto my jacket and pulls me backwards.

Flailing wildly, I almost slip and a shriek escapes my lips. Sliding on some snow mixed in with ice, I shut my eyes closed and anticipate the horrifying encounter of my back slamming into concrete, snow, and ice.

Nothing.

Taking a quick peek, I see the sky above me and a streetlight in a corner filtering in light, as well as lights from opened stores. How haven't I fallen yet...God? Craning my neck back some more, I see Zander's sheepish face, his arms holding onto my jacket and I quickly right myself up and huff away the fears that hit me.

Glaring at him, I stick out a pointed finger, "Are you crazy? I thought I was going to fall!"

"If you fall I'll catch you, don't worry."

"Wha...that has nothing to with this! Anyone could get hurt if you do that!"

"...Sorry."

"You better be." Placing a palm against my chest, I try telling my heart that I've lived and it needs to stop its excessive beating.

"Now that you know you're not dead, let's go."

"What?"

Grabbing my arm this time, he drags me along in the opposite direction of the bus stop. "What are you doing? The stop is right over there."

"We're not going home," Zander clips, drawing us further away from the bus stop and my means home.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Thank you for explaining it so descriptively Mr. Sand is sand, and palm trees are like palm trees."

"If I tell you now, you may back out." My face contorts in what I hope portrays my lack of understanding. Where the heck are we even going?

He continues to drag me for another five minutes before stopping in front of a rink – an ice rink.

"Oh no," I groan, shaking my head incessantly. 

"Oh yes."

"Why?"

"Winter isn't just for athletic people."

The optimistic baboon has no idea...I'm a great skater. I just hate having to be amongst all those people. Biting down on my lip, I don't say anything as we walk inside but to my immense pleasure, it's entirely empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, I follow Zander as we look for a skate rental shop and manage to find one just off to the far back. Grabbing a pair, I lace up my skates and head over to the completely desolate rink.

The first initial step onto the ice is always the hardest, and because the air as you're skating hits you faster, like when you ride a bike, I take off my glasses and place them in a pocket.

Holding onto the rail for support, I hesitate a little before taking a step then start skating a little awkwardly, adjusting to the feel of skates and to the ice. After a few laps while holding the rail, I let go and skate with ease, the sensation and feel of it coming back to me.

Turning around however, I almost tumble and fall while laughing because Zander's figure gets up and falls down every second. It's even funnier as he falls butt first and crashes hard, only an 'ahhh' and 'owww' coming out of him. Watching him fall a few more times, I finally take pity and decide to help him. "Need some help?"

" I thought you said you weren't athletic!"

"I'm not."

"Then how do you explain this?"

"What?" I ask innocently, amused by the bitter and flustered expression on his face.

"You doing figure eights and doing laps!"

"I never said I was bad at those things, you only assumed that. And if you thought I was bad at sports, why take me to a rink in the first place?"

Crossing my arms, I start tapping the blade tip of my skate on the ice watching his dejected and hurt appearance, "that's because..." mumbling something I can't hear, I try leaning in further but he doesn't repeat his words.

"Do you want some help?" I repeat.

"Yes."

Stretching an arm out, he grabs onto it and almost makes me fall in the process but somehow, I manage to dig my blade firmly enough into the ice that I'm able to help Zander up and maintain an awkward form of balance – I'm just wonder woman tonight.

Dusting off his butt for ice, I can see the relief of having to be able to stand without falling instantly again, a raspy sigh escaping from him. But his legs become shaky in seconds and he holds onto my shoulders to keep himself standing.

Giggling, he sharply turns to me and narrows his eyes and I try masking my laugh with a cough, "you find this funny don't you?"

"Nn – No."

"Ha ha. And Catherine if you let go, I swear I will kill you."

"You and what weapon? By the time you get off this rink, I could catch a train and be long gone."

"Funny."

"I'm kidding, I won't let go." Searching my face for what I think to be reassurance, he suddenly yanks my hands lightly out of my pockets and firmly grabs onto them, interlacing our fingers together.

"Looks like I found myself a skate champ."

"I'm not that good, I only know the basics."

"And she's modest too." Letting go of one hand, he nudges me before giving me the okay to start skating; his grip on my right hand tightens as I guide him on the ice and soon enough, he's skating on his own after a few laps.

"I should let go now."

"NO!"

"But you can skate fine now."

"Cupcake, don't let go." Wanting to be a mean tease, I gradually untangle my fingers from his and let go, watching his face for the terror that'll amuse me. Instead, his face darkens and I'm suddenly pulled into his side, his eyes boring into mine.

"Erm..."

"I told you not to let go."

Well the tables have definitely turned.