Sloane was wearing a long navy trench coat and a colourful scarf around her neck. Her little hand tightly gripped her mother's. Her father was adjusting his tweed coat in the mirror of her childhood home.

"Paul said that we would meet in St. Stephen's Green." He grabbed the house keys from the dresser next to the door, and they promptly left home. 

Sloane didn't know who Paul was, apart from the fact that her dad was very close friends with him. They would go for drinks a couple evenings a week, she knew he was with him when only her mother kissed her goodnight that day. She also knew that he was a musician, a famous one at that. Other than that, this Paul guy was a complete mystery to her.

As Sloane's family's house was located a ten minute walk away from Grafton Street, they didn't feel the need to take the Luas. It would be a nice bit of exercise. As Sloane walked, she felt the harsh Dublin Winter collide with her face. She adjusted her scarf to cover her mouth and nose.

"Robert, how long do we have left?" Her mother's voice was the sweetness in the bitter.

"We'll be there in five minutes Quinne, we'll go to a Café to warm back up with the Hewson's too." So their last name was Hewson? Another piece of information for Sloane to hold onto.

The De' Etselle's had  moved to Dublin because of Robert's keenness on Irish culture. It had been a few years since the big move. He was a real art lover, whether it was music, theatre, or visual art. He owned a magazine in Switzerland, titled 'Le Miroir Suisse'. They regularly published about local art from all around the world. Sloane recalls her father collecting pieces of art in the walls of their hallways, cherishing each painting with more love each time a new one was added to the collection. 

Soon enough, Sloane noticed a big green blob in front of her. It got bigger, and bigger, until it was made apparent that it wasn't a blob, rather a park.

"We're here, I'll just text Paul that we're standing by the entrance." Robert took out his phone from his coat pocket and began typing away.

"Mom, I'm cold."

"I know sweetie, as soon as they arrive I'll buy you a hot chocolate, okay?"

"Ah- there's my man!" A sudden exclamation from Sloane's father, as he walked towards a man wearing tinted sunglasses and a flat cap. He was walking enthusiastically towards him, holding the hand of a short boy. The two men hugged generously, before eventually separating.

"Where's the wife?" Robert asked.

"She won't be joining us, she's in Paris right now." Paul exclaimed.

"All good. Paul, this is my wife, Quinne and my daughter, Sloane." Sloane's father pointed to her mother and herself. Paul shook hands with Quinne, then kneeled down to Sloane's height to greet her.

"Hello, aren't you the cutest? I'm Paul." He held his large hand out. Sloane took the invitation as they shook hands firmly. She noticed her face slowly turn red. "This is my son, Eli. He's your age, you know that right?" She looked over to Eli, who was standing like a statue next to his father, his hands in the pockets of his bomber jacket. "Eli, say hi."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"It's freezing, shall we go sit down somewhere?" Sloane's father suggested.

"Sounds perfect, Eli and I have been walking for a while, right?" Eli nodded expressionlessly.

"There's a really nice Café down the road, they have great hot chocolate. I'm sure Sloane would love to drink one." Quinne locked eyes with her daughter, smiling at her. Sloane grew embarrassed. The adults laughed, Eli remained silent.

                                                                                            *

The two families eventually made it to their destination. Standing before them, a beautiful Café with an inviting atmosphere. Everyone was dying to step inside and feel the warmth of coffee and hot chocolate. Maybe it was the fact that everyone was cold and uncomfortable , but Sloane and Eli hadn't exchanged a word since they met. The adults were chattering the whole time, though. They seemed like they would be great friends for each other. Sloane hoped that the awkwardness would end and Eli would actually speak to her.

Soon enough, a waiter sat the group down at a long wooden table. "Sloane and Eli can sit next to each other, so we can sit as a three here." Her father carefully arranged the seating, everyone complied. 

"Let me take your coats." Paul helped Sloane take off her coat, grabbing Eli's bomber jacket in the process. He hung them on a coat hook behind the table, then sat down across from Robert and Quinne. Sloane quietly thanked Paul and sat down next to Eli, who seemed to be bored out of his mind.

"So, uhm- what are you going to order?" Sloane looked up at an only slightly taller Eli sitting to the left of her.

"Like a coffee or something." His tone was coarse, acting deeper than his pre-pubescent self actually was. He managed to finally make eye contact with her.

"Oh, okay." Sloane wondered how someone her age was already drinking coffee. Wasn't that for adults only? She'd never seen someone her age have it before. Her father had let her sip some of his a couple years ago, she wasn't fond of its bitter taste.

"Do you think they're 'tryna set us up?"

Sloane tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"It's like- like they expect us to get along or something. It's so stupid. I just wanna like- play with my friends and all people do is make me feel bad for it."

"Oh." She didn't know how to empathise with him. All she could do was listen.

"Yeah, you're a girl. You don't understand do you?"

"Yeah- I do. I understand."

"Yeah right." Sloane's tone wasn't enough to convince Eli. He looked at her with an ounce of pain, overlooked pain in his eyes. They were a dark maroon. If eyes were the window to the soul, she sure wondered what was through them. 

"I- I think they just want us to be friends."

The last thing she remembers from that day was a snippet of a conversation from the other side of the table.

"Robert, this new project is going to be marvellous."

"Let's hope the publishers pick it up in time."

"Let's."

"Look, the kids look like they're finally getting along." Her mother's voice.

"Just what we wanted, no?"

They could be friends. If Sloane tried hard enough to be friends with him, he'll surely soften up. She just has to try a bit harder.

She didn't remember the rest. She sat in her unfurnished room with the notification staring back at her blank face.