Chapter Thirty: Cupid's First Arrow

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– Zach –

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– Zach –

Two days into summer vacation and I'm starting to predict a routine that I'll be sticking to for the entire season. I'll get up, go for a quick jog, work the day time shift at my new job at the bar and spend the night drawing, enjoying the silence by myself. There's only one problem with that: my parents want me to go home for a visit.

Naturally, that would be my first choice. I do miss Mom's breakfast pancakes and Dad's repetitive stories about his younger days, but the jobs I get in the city here pay twice as much which can lessen our financial burden. Perhaps the better option would be to drop by for a week's visit sometime next month.

Yeah, I'm probably lying.

Deep down I know that's not the real reason why I hesitate going back.

My bag is hanging off my shoulder as I make my way to work. I breathe in the warm air, smelling coffee and toasted cinnamon while passing by the row of bakeries. Dried flower petals decorate the pavements and the trees cover the street in different shades of green. It is like a scenery taken directly from a painting.

Apart from the weather, everything else feels the same. The city is as busy as usual, and most pedestrians still fail to pay attention when they walk. I'm one of them.

I reach my destination five minutes early. I greet the others who are also working the day shift but I don't initiate much of a conversation. There's barely anything on my mind, except maybe Terra.

Maybe.

I change into my uniform and fold the sleeves of my shirt. I haven't spoken to her ever since that night. I won't go into details with myself about what that night is. I run a hand through my hair and give myself a good slap when no one is looking.

I'm perfectly fine.

I head over to the counter to start my shift. The bar is fairly quiet during the morning, which I am thankful for because it allows me to think. I tap my fingers against the spotless glass surface, suddenly changing my mind. I realize that I don't want to think. Every time I do, my pulse quickens and I have to suppress this strangely foreign feeling that I still don't know how to confront yet.

Why can't I get her out of my head?

The front door swings open and a customer walks in. I dart my eyes to the clock hanging just below the ceiling. It's ten o'clock sharp. Well, this guy is punctual. He walks towards me with a grin, and that's when I start to find him familiar. Too familiar.

There's only one person I know who can smile like that

"Orange juice, please." Daniel beams, taking a seat right opposite where I am standing.

I should greet him, but my distracted mind is rendering me speechless.

"No, I did not stalk you, I just happen to need a drink in the morning, no biggie." He shrugs, the smile on his face unfaltering. "There are only about five different bars within these neighboring blocks, and hey, I find you in the first one I walk in. You must be secretly praying to see me."

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