Alyson Cox believes in fate. So when her ex, Ethan Richardson, shows up at the diner Alyson works in after two years of elusiveness, she doubts if they are fated to be together.
However, with Alyson only being able to work for one summer before she...
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Ethan comes every night. The other waiters seem to know that there is something odd between us—not that I have ever told them, though—as they let me take his order every time. Days go by swiftly, and I start counting down the days I have left in Redwood.
"So, want anything new tonight?" I ask as I take out my notepad, standing next to Ethan's seat. I figure that Ethan likes Cassandra's desserts, for he has been ordering one after dinner every night.
"Hm." He props his arm up on the table and scrolls his gaze through the menu. Moments later, he looks up and smirks. "What do you recommend?"
I have been standing while he is sitting, and he stares into my eyes with his pair of crystal-clear ones. The proximity between us still makes me hold my breath.
Clearing my throat, I point at the chalkboard on top of the cash register. 'Cocoa Crème Fraîche Cupcake', it says. Cassandra is spectacular when it comes to French desserts, I still swoon over the spongy and delicate macarons she made a few days ago.
I turn back, just to find out that Ethan is still staring at me. "It's like sour cream cupcake, it's good," I say.
Ethan quirks me a small smile and shrugs. "If you say so."
I continue manning the cash register after that, constantly casting glances at Ethan. I can't help but notice that Ethan comes here every night, alone.
Most of our friends have moved out of town for college, but there are still a couple of people whom he should know. He was not the most popular guy back then while he did have some true friends that he grew up with. I stare at the back of him, and I somehow feel a wave of solemness from him. It seems to have burdened with a lot.
Two hours pass by like a blink of an eye, Ethan is supposed to leave like a customer—but he does not.
Cassandra walks out of the kitchen and gives him a rather amused glance. Nodding her head upward, she asks Ethan, "Why don't you join us?"
A glint of surprise flashes in Ethan's eyes. "Sure."
And then we start pushing all the tables together and sit around them again, this time with Ethan sitting next to me. We pass around the leftover food, and every time my hand brushes his, I have the urge to take it. I haven't felt his touch since the day in the park.
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Everyone walks out into the dim street. It's one in the morning, while I feel like collapsing onto my bed after another long night, I look over to Ethan, whose figure stands out under the streetlight.
"Alright, be careful and stay safe. See y'all tomorrow." Cassandra's voice echoes in the dark. As everyone else starts walking away, I head toward Ethan.
His tall figure hovers me as I stand in front of him. We are bathed in the warm yellow light. Letting out a sigh from his nose, he gives me a soft stare as he tucks a corner of his lips up.
I let myself soak in the moment of silence between us. I watch his chest go up and down as he breathes. Finally, he tilts his head slightly. "Let's go," he whispers.
We both know where each other's homes are, we don't even have to think about the routes—the locations have been engraved in us.
"You know, I still remember how we held hands and hugged each other when strolling in these streets," Ethan suddenly says, his words slice through the silence. "Those were good times."
I look up at Ethan, and my heart aches. How has this been two years already?
As Ethan stretches his arm out, I freeze. "Don't," I simply say.
Incredulous, Ethan frowns. "Why?"
"Don't give me false hope." I try to hide the shakiness in my voice, but I know I can't do that.
Ethan's features soften. He takes back his arm and shoves it into his jean pockets. "I'm sorry," he says.
"Just, stop apologizing." I don't want it to come out as irritating, but the fact that I don't understand his intention frustrates me. What does he exactly want? Why is he back? And most importantly, why is he seeing me if he doesn't want to fix anything?
I hear Ethan sigh. It hurts me that things between us have become so complicated. Maybe love really does not solve things, it causes problems.
Just when I am engrossed in my own thoughts, I hear something else. We hear something else.
At first, it sounds discordant but at the same time, being trapped in a bubble. But then I hear it again, this time jarring and bracingly clear. It is a scream.
We stride toward the alleyway—where the scream is from. Everything seems to slow down at once. I see a girl, her purse at the edge of being seized away from her hand. She screams again and I take a good look at the gang of people who are trying to steal the purse from her—they look almost like silhouettes in the dark, but I get to see their sports shaved heads. There are gangs in Redwood and everyone avoids the alleyway in the dark, because that is basically the place they wander.
I haven't seen the girl anywhere in Redwood before. Just as I am whiplashed between panic and terror, Ethan marches up and grabs a steel stick on top of a bin.
I stare at him wide-eyed and I slack my jaw. Because, holy shit, he hurls the stick at the gang member's head. No one sees that coming, including me. The gang member lets go of the girl's purse. She mutters something inaudible and escapes.
And then the guy raises his hand to his brow, there is a welt of blood bursting out. I am paralyzed with fear. It's their moment of confusion that saves us, because at that moment, Ethan grabs my hand. And we run.
Out of the alley, past the streetlights one by one and we reach a line of closed shops. The wind stings my cheeks as it whistles in my ears, almost whipping my head back. We take an abrupt turn and enter the quiet neighbourhood where it is almost pitch black.
The adrenaline inside me is boiling, I hear the clomp of their boots beating on the floor behind us while my heartbeat roars in my head. I feel the floor under us undulating, as I try to match Ethan's long strides.
I hear them behind us. I hear glass breaking. I feel a nick on my elbow. As we continue to run, I feel something wet on it as if a dam has opened up and released everything at once.
But Ethan keeps going. He pulls me through a tiny jig-saw pathway until it leads to a park. We dash through the fences. Ethan yanks me this way and that way until we reach a wall deep inside the park. Our momentum crashes just as we both slam against it.
We stand there, our chests pressed together. I feel the fast, steady thud of his heart while mine is pounding in my ribcage. I listen to the sharp in-and-out of our breaths.
