Holland, with his back to the door, was dressed in what looked like a line cook's uniform. He stopped what he was doing to wipe his forehead with the back of his sleeve and then blasted a giant sink with steaming water. Spinning around when he was done, he stopped when he saw me and gave me a small satisfied smile. "Amara! You came."

He pulled onions from a basket under the counter, not even looking up as he grabbed a knife. I had yet to even formulate a response. He'd looked happy—or was that surprised—that I was there.

"Sorry, I fully intended on being able to talk to you today, but Martin called in sick, so I'm both of us for the night."

The knife in his hand danced over the onion, mincing it to perfection; cooking show perfection. I could not stop staring at his hands. I might have been smiling. But if anyone ever asked, I would swear the onions were making me cry.

"You work here?"

"Yeah." He rolled another onion onto his chopping block. "You didn't think I was asking you out, did you?"

"I kind of didn't know what to think." I answered honestly, "but I did think you were nuts."

Chuckling, he quickly swiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "I thought we could talk in between rushes, but that was before I knew I'd be prepping too." The knife paused in his hand and he waved it at a stool just inside the doorway. "You can still stay if you want, but I probably won't have many breaks today."

The stool was wedged between the open door and the edge of a counter laden with plastic trays meant for dirty dishes. I was barely eight inches into the place, and I understood why the door was open in the first place. My hair would hate me by the end of this; it was already frizzing.

Holland worked so silently for some time, I wondered why I was there. When the continuous chopping stopped, he disappeared around the corner, once again not even looking my way. He was so immersed in a zone, I probably didn't even exist in his headspace right then.

A box of leeks thwacked onto the counter and he leaned on it, wearing the same smug smile he'd worn on the field. "You stayed."

"Not sure if I should," I admitted.

Holland only shrugged, and began cutting into the leeks; we were at some kind of impasse, with neither of us really wanting to show a desire for me to stay. Fine, Holland, I'll break it. "You intended on talking... What about? I mean, I thought we were leaving each other alone."

"I don't know, I just figured..." his attention remained focused on the vegetables in front of him.

As much as I wanted to know what he was thinking, I waited for a safe time to speak. The boy had a fast moving knife in his hand. Covertly, I fiddled with my phone, taking a video of his hands as he diced the leeks. He stopped so suddenly, I almost dropped my phone trying to turn it off quickly. I was sure he caught me, but I wouldn't know because a man walked through right at that moment.

"Ryan, you got those—what's going on here? Who's this?"

In any normal situation, I'd bullshit a reason for my presence, but I truly wasn't meant to be there. What was I supposed to say? Anything I said, heck, even me being here, was likely to get Holland in trouble.

Without removing his attention from what he was doing, Holland introduced me. "Jeremy, this is Amara. She's my personal support animal."

The man looked between us as if expecting one of us to flip out and one of us to be in need of a funeral. "You do realise that those are usually animals and not human females who can take offence to that? Also why?"

"I am working two jobs tonight, Jer," Holland rationalised. "So, you know, she's here to keep the stress at a minimum."

Jeremy, arms crossed, pinned me with a look like my dad's whenever I lied. "She's going to distract you. I need those carrots."

"Done."

"Onions."

"Done."

"Leeks."

"Almost done." Holland grinned and gestured at me in question.

Visibly annoyed that he really had no reason to object, Jeremy nodded. "Carry on, but no distractions." He paused with the tray of decimated carrots in hand and looked at me once more, muttering, "No one else can have their girlfriend here."

"Uh, girlfriend, no!" I clarified, probably a little more adamantly than I should have.

"Girlfriend, no, but support animal, yes. God, you kids are strange." Jeremy disappeared around the corner, shaking his head.

"He calls me here to talk, and then he avoids talking to me." Amara examined her fingernails, her tone childishly bored.

"I can hear you, you know." I was almost done with the peppers anyways, and then I could talk. Probably only for a couple minutes because then it would be time to wash dishes. She opened and closed her mouth several times, but said nothing. Shan did that too whenever she was too pissed to put words together. Great start, Holland. Picking up her phone, she scrolled through it, her expression becoming increasingly sad looking.

With the peppers done, I wiped my hands off and leaned on the counter beside her, close enough to try and see her screen. "So, what are we doing?"

"I'm reading, and you're working." I didn't even get side eye, but I deserved it, I guess.

"Not working right now." I grinned and flicked a strand of her hair. I wasn't sure if the red sunburst or the half blue half black looked better on her.

"Mmmhmm." She fought a smile pretty hard and then gave up, tugging her hair out of my fingers. "Stop that."

"I like the blue," I stepped back so she wouldn't feel like I was cornering her.

"Thanks." Did she just blush? "What are we talking about?"

"The notes. Maybe we could try and figure out who it is. You know, and help them? I mean, we have this look into what some psycho is thinking, we should maybe use our powers for good."

"You think so?" It sounded like she was reevaluating me.

"You don't?"

Smiling, she admitted, "I've been trying to figure it out since you started sending me pictures of the notes."

"And? Any ideas?" I leaned down again, excited at the prospect of trying to figure this out.

"So far, most of them have been generic, but there are two constants."

"A girl. And popular."

She was nervous about all this, that much was obvious. I don't know why, but it bothered me that she was stressing. So much I felt like I needed to try and kill the worry. "What if we go through them all, maybe we can find something else?"

Idiot. What was I going to find that she couldn't while she was obsessing over the notes? 

"Like what?" Clearly she thought I was a genius now.

"Like that it's not you."

-.-

Awww.