"You're closed?" Isabella inquired again, her tone softer this time, like the rain that had just subsided outside.
"Yeah, we're—" Avery started, only to be cut off as the realization hit him with startling clarity. This was Isabella. From school.
He caught the glint of recognition in her eyes, and she tilted her head slightly, as if weighing the decision to continue their conversation.
His gaze flitted back to the bell, the betrayer of his fleeting irritation, before settling on her once more. "I ain't mean to bark at you," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Thought you was somebody else."
Isabella offered a polite smile, tinged with a teasing edge. "Somebody worth yelling at?"
Avery shrugged, trying to hide the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Somethin' like that."
A moment stretched between them, thick with unspoken words, as she stepped further inside, brushing damp strands of hair away from her face, revealing the delicate line of her jaw.
"So you work here?" she asked, casting her eyes around the dimly lit restaurant, where the tables stood in stoic silence.
"It's my families. I just help out after school... keep things from fallin' apart." He glanced over the empty tables, feeling the weight of responsibility draped over him.
She nodded appreciatively. "Looks like you're doin' a good job."
A short laugh escaped him, lightening the mood. "Only 'cause I ain't flipped a table yet."
Her gaze dropped to the polished tile floor, suddenly more interested in the patterns than the conversation. Avery felt the corners of his lips lift into a grin, enjoying the fleeting moment of connection.
"You're good," he said, his tone softening. "I don't mind you bein' here."
"I can order, then?" Her eyes drew to the menu above the cashier.
"Go on ahead." Said Avery, quickly abandoning the chairs and heading towards the counter. With her hands clasped behind her back, Isabella waited patiently while swaying on the soles of her feet. While she stared at the menu from afar, Avery couldn't help but observe her.
She looked even more enchanting up close than she had from a distance, a feat that seemed almost impossible in Avery's mind—yet there she stood. Different from her usual long braid she wore at school, her hair cascaded freely that night, the luxurious silk strands flowing well past her waist. The sheer volume of hair was impressive; he wondered why she didn't wear it down more often.
As for her outfit, the amount of clothing she wore was usually minimal, despite the gradual shift into autumn. Well, "gradual" was never quite the case with Avery around, but the warm evening air allowed for a short-sleeved blouse and rolled-up shorts. Isabella's fashion sense was striking, even after school; tonight, she showcased her shoulders in a vibrant lime-green tank top, slightly damp from the mist of a recent rain, cropped just above her belly button. The tight shirt hugged her upper body, the soft pink flower design right over her chest blooming like it knew the effect she had. Her fitted blue Levi jeans hugged her hips and thighs, perfectly tailored to allow a glimpse of the curves that effortlessly commanded attention. The denim clung to her slim yet curvy frame, a blend of softness and strength that drew the eye. Her skin shimmered under the glow of the overhead lights, caramel and smooth. She adorned her ears with golden hoops that sparkled with every turn of her head, and her wrist bore a delicate set of bracelets that jingled softly with her movements. At her feet, the unmistakable pop of pink Reebok Pumps stood out—a vibrant nod to '90s fashion, as if she had walked straight out of a magazine.
"Is there something on my face?" She asked, her lips slightly upturned.
He cleared his throat, his voice steady despite the dampness in the air, "Nah. You're just all wet, from the rain."
"I'm happy you noticed."
But that wasn't the only reason he couldn't tear his gaze away from her. There was something magnetic about her stance, an unspoken confidence woven into the way she looked at him that was more captivating than anything else he had encountered, and he felt himself drawn in closer.
"Can I have a quart of rice and some orange chicken?" She asked, her voice tinged with warmth as she fished five crumpled dollar bills from her pocket. Just as she did, a slim ID slipped from her grasp, landing on the counter with a soft thud. The photo on it was of a rough-looking man, his expression hardened by the weight of life, and she instinctively reached for it. In that moment, she flinched as her fingers brushed against Avery's while he moved to pick it up for her.
He glanced at the ID, furrowing his brows in confusion. "This ain't you, right?" he questioned, flipping the card over and sliding it back toward her.
"S-Sorry, it's my Dad's... I didn't steal it or anything. If that's what you're thinking," she stammered, her voice becoming timid, each word laced with an urgency that belied her fading confidence in whether Avery believed her.
Avery's expression softened, a genuine grin breaking through as he reassured her. "Relax, I'm not accusing you or nothin'." He then wrote down the order and turned around, sliding the paper to Hao, who let out a groan.
Unbeknownst to him, the rain had ceased, the rhythmic patter fading into a quiet stillness, as if the very sky held its breath, waiting for her to respond. The boiling emotions in his chest gradually simmered down to a calm warmth, and while he resisted admitting it, he knew it had everything to do with the girl in front of him. Guilt flickered within him, a lingering remorse for the sudden downpour he had caused, yet her presence somehow washed it away, leaving only intrigue behind.
Hold up—did she walk here?
"Where's your ride?" he asked, a genuine concern creeping into his voice.
She shrugged, her body subtly shifting as she tapped her feet against the cool tile. "Don't have one."
Avery stepped out from behind the polished wooden counter, the sound of his rugged boots echoing against the cool, tiled floor as he closed the distance between them, each step deliberate and filled with purpose. As he approached, she looked up, her gaze snapping back in surprise at how suddenly he had invaded her space, his presence commanding and larger than life. He felt an unfamiliar surge of self-awareness about his height, realizing how he might appear even taller and broader from this vantage. With his arms crossed firmly over his chest, he towered slightly over her, the concerned depth in his eyes giving away a protective instinct he couldn't quite hide. "So, you just walked all the way over here? Where do you live?" he asked, his voice infused with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Isabella raised an eyebrow, mirroring his challenging stance as she leaned back against the textured wall, a picture of playful defiance. "Why do you want to know where I live?" she countered, her tone teasing yet laced with intrigue. There it was again—her voice, effortlessly playful, acting like a charm that kept him on his toes. As she spoke, Avery felt a wave of uncertainty wash over him, making him squirm as he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly aware of the sweat gathering in his palms.
"What? I'm not a stalker or nothin'." he retorted, desperation seeping into his tone. "It's just not a good idea for girls to be walkin' 'round at this time of night. If someone snatched you up, you wouldn't know what to do."
A scoff escaped her lips, but the smile dancing at the corners of her mouth suggested that she found amusement in his fervent protectiveness, a small victory in their playful exchange. Avery scrutinized her closely, narrowing his eyes in mock seriousness. "Well, what's so funny?" he pressed, his demeanor shifting from curiosity to challenge.
She stepped away from the wall, her arms folded "The last thing I expected when I came in here," she said, her smile softening, "was for Avery Walker to worry about how I'll get home."
Avery's finger fidgeted against the worn fabric of his jeans, a subconscious effort to soothe the anxious energy coursing through him. His fingertips tingled with an electric current, threatening to betray his unease as he stole a glance at Isabella. There was something irresistibly captivating about her stance; her shoulders slightly back, her gaze steady and inquisitive. That drew him in more powerfully than he could have anticipated.
Beneath his stoic exterior, a wave of embarrassment simmered, triggering his old habits. In a moment of unpredictable instinct, a sudden gust of wind burst through the restaurant door, flinging it wide open with a theatrical flair. For the first time, his unruly abilities felt like both a blessing and a curse: a curse for the obvious chaos they could unleash, yet a blessing in that it momentarily diverted her attention from the telltale flush creeping across his face.
Hao approached the counter with a vibrant green takeout bag, its crinkled surface filled with the tantalizing aroma of his last order for the day. He lightly tapped the silver bell on the counter—*Ding!*—its sound cutting through the ambient chatter and clinking of dishes, drawing the staff's attention back to him.
Isabella's gaze was momentarily captured by the unusually ajar door, a gust of wind ruffling her hair as it swayed gently. Meanwhile, Avery, with a firm grip, lifted her order off the counter, cradling the container in his hands instead of handing it to her directly. "I'll take you home, so just wait here," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Isabella's head snapped back toward him, surprise widening her eyes, but Avery had already slipped away into the shadows of the restaurant's bustling back area, leaving her speechless. She wanted to argue, to protest his unexpected offer, but the fluttering in her stomach and the warm blush creeping across her cheeks made her rethink. Her heart raced as the thought of being alone with him began to play in her mind.
"Pops, can I borrow the car?" Avery called out, his voice tinged with urgency. "My...or well, this girl in my class needs a ride. Don't want her walkin' home alone."
From behind the stove's fiery gasoline flame, Avery's father, with grease-streaked arms and a face smudged with oil, grunted in acknowledgment. He lifted himself from his station, looking like a miner emerging from the depths of a coal mine, his apron a canvas of stains and splatters from countless hours of cooking.
"A girl?!" He exclaimed. Nathaniel knew what the new generation of kids did nowadays, more precisely in the backseat of cars. At least that's what Charlie did time and time again, not so discreetly. For now, Avery had proven himself to be different than his older brother; but Nathaniel doubted that would last long. "Fine, just don't knock anyone up, you're not gonna end up like these deadbeat teenage dads out here if you do—I will make you take respons—"
"Alright dad, jeez." Avery scratched his head in annoyance as his dad tossed him the single car key from his apron pocket.
Damn old man, I'm not knockin' anyone up.
Isabella studied the restaurant's black and white photographs, their frames dusted with age, as her attention was drawn away by the faint jingle of keys. Moments later, Avery reappeared, his hand clutching her steaming container of Chinese food, a playful grin illuminating his face. "Come on," he urged, his enthusiasm infectious.
She cast a glance back at the restaurant's glass door before hurrying to catch up to him as he moved purposefully past the eclectic decor and the cash register. "Are we not going through the front door?"
"Nah, everyone parks out back in Chinatown. Don't mind the chaos; we're closing up, so you're not botherin' anyone." Isabella nodded, a flicker of intrigue sparking in her eyes as they threaded their way through the dimly lit, cluttered kitchen. The air was thick with the aromas of sizzling garlic and soy sauce, but she kept her gaze averted from the extra staff members milling about, especially the man with the low-taper haircut, whose piercing gaze seemed to follow them with suspicion as they passed.
"Don't fool around, Avery!" the man called out, his voice gruff yet tinged with familiarity.
Avery simply shook his head as they stepped out into the cool evening air through the back door, holding it open for Isabella with a casual grace. "Ignore the old man, that's my pops."
Isabella chuckled, walking two steps down and landing on the gravel with a small thud.
The rain had stopped, but it left behind a thick layer of humidity in the air that made their skin sticky. The alleys of Chinatown were nowhere near as aesthetically pleasing as they seemed from the front; there were no pretty lights or a bustling community to liven up the area. Instead, the pavement was littered with numerous trash bags filled with wasted food and useless inventory. The dark, wet pavement was dimly lit by the flickering streetlights overhead.
Isabella swatted at the numerous mosquitoes that attempted to bite her exposed arms. Avery swatted away twice as many, as his unusually warm body temperature always attracted them. They approached a red GMC Typhoon, one of the most popular cars at the moment, known for its large size and comfortable seating. It was his father's third proudest purchase, after the restaurant and their home, despite its modest shape and style. Avery much preferred lower cars with sleek builds and extra gear meant for speed, but he couldn't convince his father to buy a Mitsubishi 3000GT VR-4 at the dealership.
Avery rushed to the passenger side, pulling the door open before Isabella even had a chance to touch the handle. She hesitated slightly before climbing in, maintaining eye contact with him. Before he could fully cross over to the driver's seat, he watched as she reached over to pull up the lock. After she settled back into her seat, she noticed his smile as he got into the car. The puzzled look on her face deepened as his smile turned into a soft chuckle.
"What's funny?" she asked.
Avery shrugged as he turned the ignition. "Nothing. Just didn't picture the night going like this."
She smiled and relaxed into her seat as she pulled the seatbelt across her chest. "Me neither," she said, brushing her fingers through her loose hair. "Do you know where Sunset Street is? I live on that block."
"Nah. You'll have to be the map, otherwise we'll end up somewhere in an alley," he replied.
"We're already in one," she quipped.
Avery shot her a sideways glance as he stepped on the gas and slowly reversed. The silence in the car wasn't uncomfortable, but it made him aware of every action he took. He could hear himself swallow, and his breathing was too loud. He wondered if she worried about similar things; she didn't seem to. Avery hadn't felt this nervous in a long time. He had experienced nervousness before, of course—like when he sat in a chair, watching a needle filled with poison determine his fate. But the nervousness he felt now didn't feel life-threatening; it was exhilarating.
"Do you have any music?" Isabella asked, her fingers deftly rummaging through the cluttered glove compartment, sifting through an assortment of CDs. "Yeah... pick one and pop it in," Avery replied, though she already intended to do so. He stole glances as she flipped past a few hits—Michael Jackson's latest album, Whitney Houston's soulful melodies, and even a TLC album?!
"Alright, you're skipping some of the best ones," he commented, hoping she wouldn't dig any deeper and unearth his father's collection of slow jazz, which felt too intimate and reflective for the moment.
Isabella's panther-like eyes sparkled with excitement when she discovered a gem. "Oh! You have Aaliyah's songs? This is one of her new ones too!" As Avery turned onto the main road, he looked over at her curiously. "Yeah? Is she your favorite or somethin'?"
The radiant smile on her face as she slipped the tape into the player was answer enough, but she eagerly elaborated, "Duh! Have you seen her music videos? Our dance routine for Friday night's basketball game—well, I guess it's your game—will be based on one of her videos." She pressed play, and as "One in a Million" filled the car with its smooth, infectious rhythm, she nodded her head in time with the beat. Avery found himself captivated by the surprising layers of her personality.
From a distance, Isabella exuded an air of stoicism—at school, she rarely revealed much of her inner self. Yet, her confidence was undeniable, especially when she and her cheer squad performed provocative dances that entertained the entire student body. Still, a few things didn't quite fit together. Despite her popularity as a cheerleader, she didn't seem to have many close friends. Avery often observed her during lunch, sitting serenely beside the flowerbeds in the school courtyard, apart from her cheer "friends," who gathered in a loud, boisterous group at the cafeteria's middle table.
Avery had noticed that during free periods, she gravitated towards the library, where she could often be found nestled in a corner with her feet propped up, fully immersed in a book while her Walkman played harmonious tunes in her ears. The first time he caught sight of her, it was purely coincidental; he was buried in study for an upcoming exam. The subsequent visits weren't quite as accidental; he found himself making more daily trips to the library, pretending to boot up the internet on the single school computer for his research paper.
Even in the bustling hallways, Isabella turned heads with her eye-catching fashion choices and undeniably alluring figure. She was truly one of the rare souls at their school who marched to the beat of her own drum, seemingly indifferent to the judgment of others. The contrast between how she appeared from a distance, stoic and composed. How she came alive in person was striking; it only intensified Avery's intrigue and attraction to her.
Avery only had one problem.
The idea of pursuing a girl made him nervous for more than one reason, and it wasn't because his palms were always sweaty. Given who...what he was, the word dating had a big red X plastered all over it.
What would happen if she discovered his true nature? What if she hated him for it, or, even worse, exposed him? What if all this overthinking was for nothing and Isabella wanted nothing to do with him in the first place?
"Turn right!" Isabella shouted, her voice tinged with panic as she pointed out her window at the last possible moment. Avery felt their bodies lean with the curve of the car as he yanked the steering wheel, narrowly avoiding the street curb.
"Girl—you damn near made me plow into that fire hydrant! You've got to warn me earlier!" he exclaimed, heart racing.
"You were driving too fast!" Isabella huffed, her eyes wide with adrenaline.
As the blaring music from the stereo faded into an awkward silence, Avery seized the moment to broach a subject that had been lingering in his mind. Whether he should pursue Isabella, or anyone for that matter, wasn't a decision that could be made in the heat of the moment.
He recalled Bonnie's party invitation, which he had accepted without a second thought, a decision he now regretted. He only agreed to go to that party for one reason: Isabella.
If she'd be there.
Aside from her, for the first time in forever, he promised Tito that he'd hang, for real that time. He was all too familiar with the number of broken promises he had made, and for once, he felt guilty. After all, he'd never hear the end of it from Tito if he bailed.
Yet the truth loomed larger: there was no way in hell he'd attend unless he had an opportunity to be with Isabella.
That was the only aspect that could make the forced mingling worthwhile.
"So, uh, you're good friends with Bonnie, right? You're going to her party?" Avery ventured; his voice tinged with nervousness. But Isabella's gaze remained fixated on the scenery racing past the window.
The car came to a slow stop at a red light, right across from a group of kids who appeared only slightly younger than themselves.
"Stop! No, no, I've done nothing wrong!" A boy falsely screeched, as his friends pretended to drag him across the sidewalk.
"How cruel, they're making fun of that kid from school." She said, with her voice low and fist resting against her cheek. Her face appeared emotionless, but when the golden streetlight reflected against her bronze skin, Avery swore for a second that her eyes were ever so slightly glossed over.
"Does that bother you?"
Isabella turned to Avery, answering with a light shrug, "Why should it? At the end of the day, Oliver deceived us all." Avery's eyes squinted at the unfamiliar name, "Who?"
"That was his name, the guy who got taken away today at school. It doesn't bother me in the slightest that he's gone; the supernatural are monsters, after all. It's just annoying to see kids make fun of him, as if they're any better."
Isabella's words soaked in Avery's mind for the remainder of the ride. Monster was such a nasty word to describe his kind...but maybe she had a point.
Morally, Avery would say he's a decent guy with high values and a conscience; yet, in the same person, he had the ability to destroy and hurt those around him.
Despite her statement, Avery couldn't find it within himself to detest her, like he did anyone else who spoke badly about the supernatural. Somewhere in her words, he sensed her sympathy for the opposing side, and that alone was enough for him, even in their hatred-filled society. Hopefully, her remorse would grow over time.
As they drove, Avery gave up on asking about the party, at least for that night. Maybe she wouldn't want to go anyway.
"Mine is the light blue house, right here," Isabella said, her finger softly tracing the outline of her home against the fogged glass of the car window. The vehicle glided to a halt, the engine's gentle purr fading into the evening air as Avery pressed the brakes and shifted the gear stick into park. "You only live two blocks down from me, huh? Well, what do ya' know," he remarked, glancing over at her with a hint of surprise, while watching her unbuckle her seatbelt with a mix of curiosity and warmth. As she reached for the door handle, Avery quickly sprang out of his seat and jogged around the car, opening the passenger door with a flourish. Isabella's lips curled into a small, playful grin. "Quite the gentleman," she teased, stepping onto the gravel road that crunched beneath her sneakers.
"Thank you for the ride," she said, her voice laced with genuine appreciation. Avery stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his worn jeans, leaning against the frame of the car.
"Uh, huh. But don't walk at night for Chinese food anymore. Otherwise, you'll end up in my car again." he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in a light-hearted smile. Isabella chuckled, the sound bright and carefree as she retrieved her bag of steaming food from beneath the passenger seat.
"Goodnight, Avery," she called warmly, turning to shuffle past him. As she walked by, a strange flutter of hesitation sparked in his chest.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't said enough. In that fleeting moment, he realized how much he wanted to talk to this girl.
Just like that, he knew he wanted to engage her in conversation beyond this one-time favor. With the weight of final exams lifted from his shoulders, he felt liberated, free from the relentless anxiety that had shadowed him for so long. Maybe it was okay to finally live his life normally without the constant anxiety in his chest. Or better yet, maybe there's something better outside of school and the restaurant.
I hope this is really okay.
"Isabella, hold up." Avery extended his hand, barely grazing her shoulder. She flinched, spinning around as if he were the boogeyman. "W-What?" she asked softly, her voice trembling slightly.
"Uhm," Avery said, leaning against the car, his hands retreating into his pockets as a nervous habit. "See you around tomorrow?"
In response, Isabella shifted her weight onto her left hip, crossing her arms defensively. "No." With that, she turned away, her hair cascading behind her like a silken curtain as she walked toward her house.
Avery lingered, waiting until she slipped inside. Instead of using the front door, however, he noticed her stealthily bypassing the porch. She approached a small open window nestled against the side of the house, its height just enough to pose a challenge. With the grace of a cat, she jumped up, her fingers curling around the window's edge, and effortlessly swung herself upwards. The side panels of the house provided her stability as she propelled herself inside, disappearing behind a layer of green curtains that billowed slightly as she passed.
Her movements were so fluid and assured that the bag of Chinese food dangling from her wrist never once hindered her agility.
What in the world...
As Avery turned around, his shoe accidentally nudged against a hard object, causing him to halt mid-step. Nestled in the tall, untamed grass of the lawn lay a small, white, translucent bottle, its surface glinting faintly in the sunlight. Curiosity piqued, he picked it up and examined it closely. The bottle was remarkably clean, devoid of any dirt or grime, suggesting it had only recently come to rest there.
Inside, the bottle was filled with small, oval-shaped blue pills, their vibrant hue contrasting starkly with the bottle's clarity. Avery noted the expiration date embossed on the cap. It was old, yet the bottle was still nearly full, raising questions in his mind. He twisted the bottle once more, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface, and turned to look at the white sticker label affixed to one side.
"Naproxen?"