by Alexis Davie
“Coming right up,” Penelope said with a nervous smile. As soon as her back was turned to Nico, she leaned close to Alana and whispered, “I’m going to kill you.”
“Oh, relax, Penelope!” Alana whispered back, grinning at her as though they were partners in a conspiration. “We both know you could brew a vanilla chai latte with your eyes closed, if you wanted to, so there’s nothing for you to be worrying about!”
“What if I screw up?” Penelope demanded, her hands already shaking with anxiousness. “You shouldn’t have put me on such a pedestal!”
“Girl, you deserve to be on that pedestal,” her co-worker replied, softly patting her shoulder. “Besides, it’ll be the perfect chance to impress him!”
Penelope was about to argue that she wasn’t trying to impress Nico—in fact, she would’ve dared say that impressing Alana’s brother was the last thing on her list of priorities—but then Alana raised an eyebrow at her in the exact same way Nico had just a few moments ago, and Penelope knew that she couldn’t lie to her. In that instant, she realized how truly similar the gazes of both siblings were: she felt like they were both able to see through her, as though she were made of glass, as if Penelope’s eyes were literal windows to her soul.
In the end, she said nothing, opting to start preparing the vanilla chai latte Nico had ordered.
“Don’t worry,” Alana added in a hushed tone. “I can see that he likes you, too.”
Penelope ignored her, but she couldn’t help the smile that overcame her mouth.
3
“Here you go.”
Nico raised his head from his cell phone—he had been reading some articles Alana had sent him a few days ago—just as Penelope placed his vanilla chai latte tea in front of him, on the small round table where he had sat down to wait. Steam was coming out of the cup’s lid, and he carefully took his beverage between his hands and blew on it to try to cool it down a little.
“Thank you,” he said, his eyes locked on the way Penelope pushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. Her hands were small and delicate, or at least, that was how they looked. Her skin was rosy and smooth, and Nico had to practically force himself to let go of her hand after Alana had introduced them. He didn’t know if he had imagined it, but it had felt like Penelope had struggled to let go of him, too.
Nico couldn’t stop staring at her. God, she was even more beautiful than Alana had described her to be.
“Um…” Penelope cleared her throat. “Anything else? Would you like some more napkins, or…?”
“Uh, no, no, that’s—I’m fine, thank you,” Nico said, desperately trying to come up with an excuse to keep talking to Penelope. He kind of wanted her to sit down with him so that he could just talk to her for a while, but he didn’t know if that would get her in trouble with her and Alana’s boss or manager or whatever. Then again, they had opened up almost an hour ago, and he was, by the looks of it, the first customer of the day, so maybe it wouldn’t be that big of a problem.
“Well, then,” said Penelope, clapping her hands together. “If you need anything else, just wave us over, okay?” Then she started to turn away, presumably to go back behind the counter with Alana.
“Actually,” Nico hurried to say. He reached his hand out to grasp Penelope’s wrist, but he managed to hold himself back at the last second. Even if he was almost entirely sure that she liked him, he didn’t want to push any boundaries or cross any lines.
Besides, if Alana’s suspicions were true, he had to remain on Penelope’s good side.
Penelope stopped in her tracks and turned her head to him.
“I—” Nico glanced around the coffee shop until his eyes landed on Alana, who locked her gaze into his. She raised her eyebrows at him and then waved her hands in a shoo motion, as if she were telling him, Go on, you big dolt! He turned his attention back to Penelope and gestured to the chair across from him.
“Would you like to sit down for a moment?”
Penelope’s eyes widened slightly, and Nico could see a soft blush on her cheeks.
“Oh, I—I don’t know if I should—” She looked back at Alana, who decided in that precise moment to turn her back to them and busy herself. Nico didn’t even know what she was doing; he just knew that she was pretending to be busy, despite the fact that he was pretty sure there was nothing left for her to do. Then Penelope stared through the windows of the establishment out at the street, as if she were trying to figure out if another customer was going to walk into the coffee shop in the next couple of minutes.
Finally, she sighed to herself, and when she turned back to Nico, she was smiling softly. “I guess I can sit down for just a bit.”
Penelope took the chair opposite Nico, who took a deep breath, as he struggled to think of something to say.
“So, uh.” He cleared his throat. “How long have you and Alana known each other?”
“Not for long, really,” she answered, her hands on her lap, like she didn’t know where else to put them. “Only since I started working here, which was almost a year ago now.”
“You guys are the only people who work here, right?”
“Yeah,” said Penelope with a small mirthless chuckle. “And I guess I can see why? It’s not like we get a lot of customers on a regular basis.” She paused. “Um, Alana said you were away from Evergreen Grove for some time?”
“Oh, yes, that.” Nico chuckled, nervously running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I was away for almost five years.”
“Working?” Penelope asked, but then she immediately raised her hands in front of her in defense. “I mean, if it’s not too personal—”
“No, no, not at all!” Before he started to talk, Nico took a sip from the warm cup he still held between his fingers, and though he usually hated agreeing with Alana, he was glad that she had been right about this. “Oh, my god, you do prepare the best vanilla chai latte I’ve ever had.”
Penelope began to stammer, the blood rushing to her cheeks in an adorable blush. “I really think you’re giving me more credit than is due—”
“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.”
She stopped mid-sentence, and for a second, she simply stared at him, like she was trying to process what he had said. Suddenly, Nico felt like maybe he had overstepped one of Penelope’s boundaries, and he immediately started to backtrack.
“I’m—I’m sorry if that was too forward,” he stuttered. “I know we just met—”
“No, no,” Penelope said. “It’s just… no one had ever told me anything like that before.” She glanced around the coffee shop, as if she were making sure that there was no one but them and Alana. Then she undid her ponytail, grabbed her hair between her hands, and tied it again, leaving only one loose strand of her blonde hair resting against her temple. Nico wanted to reach out and push it behind her ear, but he had already almost messed up once. He didn’t want to push Penelope.
“Anyway,” she started, bringing Nico out of his thoughts. “You were saying that you were away for five years?”
“Oh, yes,” Nico remembered, taking another sip from his tea. “Our family has a couple of small youth centers scattered across the country, and I spent the last five years working at one in California.”
“Youth centers?”
“Yeah,” he continued, glancing down at the plastic cup he was holding between his hands. “I guess you could also think of them as shelters. We take in a lot of kids, and also teens, and even a few young adults, who get kicked out of their homes for one reason or other. We teach them how to deal with their anger issues and how to put their energy into different coping mechanisms for things that have happened to them or things they’ve lived through.”
“Oh, wow,” Penelope sighed, and she leaned her arms on the table between her and Nico. “That sounds so wonderful…” She turned to the counter, where Alana—no longer pretending to be busy with other things—was on her phone. “I wonder why Alana never mentioned anything about it.”
Nico knew exactly why his sister hadn’t told Penelope about their youth centers. “Well, she’s a bit too soft for some of our toughest cases. Mom tried to have her help out in one of the closest centers to Evergreen Grove after she got out of college, but she couldn’t really handle it.”
Penelope’s eyes were wide open, and she glanced at Alana once more before turning her attention back to Nico. “I would’ve never thought Alana was ‘too soft’ for anything,” she said.
“She doesn’t look like she is, does she?”
She let out a small laugh, trying to cover it up behind the palm of her hand. “Not really, no.” Penelope leaned in closer to the middle of their table, and Nico felt the need to do the same. “To be honest,” she whispered, “when I first met her, I thought she was going to step all over me. I was terrified of her!”
Nico snorted, looking at his sister out of the corner of his eye for a second.
“Nah,” he said in the same hushed tone Penelope had used, “she’s a big softie. I know she may not look like one, but appearances can often be deceitful.”
When he turned his head to Penelope, Nico noticed for the first time how close they actually were. He could almost count every single one of Penelope’s lashes, and he could see how strikingly blue her eyes were, with little, tiny splashes of other colors in her irises, and he could see how chapped her mouth was, probably from the cold. He could move his hand only a few inches and it would be holding hers. He could lean in just a little closer to kiss her.
God, they were so close that he could feel her breath on his face, the soft exhales of air through her slightly parted lips.
He could just kiss her.
“I…” Penelope swallowed, and Nico was drawn to the movements of the muscles of her throat. “I think I better get back to Alana,” she whispered. “You know, just in case someone else actually walks through that door.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
They both leaned back, as though they had been zapped. Penelope stood up from her chair and gave him a small wave before turning her back to him, walking behind the counter so she could join Alana again.
Nico finished his vanilla chai latte, but he remained exactly where he was. Even if Alana was wrong about Penelope and her suspicions were actually unfounded, he wanted to spend more time with the blonde woman. He wanted to get to know her. He just… he just wanted to be with her.
But if Alana was actually right… then he had to keep a really close eye on Penelope, anyway.
For her own sake.
4
Nico vanished before Penelope could talk to him more. The coffee shop had suddenly been filled to the brim with customers, and by the time Penelope had noticed, Nico was gone. Perhaps he had tried saying goodbye and she simply hadn’t heard him due to the chaos inside the establishment, because he had left a napkin with his name and number scribbled on it on top of the counter. Underneath his number, he had also written: I would love to continue our conversation.
What conversation? Penelope couldn’t help wondering while she finally, finally, closed down the shop for the day. Alana had offered to stay and help her, but after the day they’d had, she had wanted some time to herself to simply think about what had happened between her and Nico.
Not only was he incredibly handsome—when she had sat down to talk with him, Penelope had felt like she could be completely, unabashedly honest with him. She had felt like she could tell him anything, absolutely anything, and he wouldn’t judge her. He would look for ways to help her. He would hold her hand through it all and smile at her once she had crossed whatever bridge was in front of her.
And while they had been sitting together, they had been so close to each other. Penelope had never felt so drawn to someone in her entire life. At that moment she had shared with Nico—a moment that had seemed to happen in their own little world, where not even Alana could see them—she had hoped with all her being that he would kiss her.
Was that what Nico was trying to say through his note on the napkin? Because the only thing Penelope remembered about the conversation they’d been having before was that Alana was actually a big softie, despite her appearance of, I could probably kill you in your sleep and look fabulous while doing it. At least, Penelope had been terrified of her the first few days they had worked together. Then she had figured that Alana had to have a softer side, since she seemed so worried about helping Penelope deal with her occasional insomnia, but she had never guessed she was actually like that all the time.
And then… and then Nico had almost kissed her.
Penelope had pulled away from him and said something stupid about having to get back to work or something or other. God, now she wanted to slap some sense into herself. She hadn’t been thinking clearly all day long because of that damn nightmare, and now she had ruined the only chance she might’ve had to start having an actual social life, instead of hiding in her work and then in her home with Rex.
But I didn’t COMPLETELY screw it up, she thought, remembering Nico’s note on the napkin he had left behind for her. He still gave me his number. He still wants me to call him. He wouldn’t do it out of pity, right?
Penelope sighed to herself. She knew it was a possibility. After all, Nico had worked with people who could definitely use some compassion, and he didn’t seem reluctant to give it. However, she wanted to believe that Nico had felt that same pull towards her, that he would’ve kissed her if she hadn’t gotten nervous and pulled away from him.
Besides, Alana had told her he liked her.
As she made her way back home, Penelope took the napkin note out of the pocket of her jacket. Since she had forgotten her phone at home, she’d had no other choice than to carry Nico’s scribbled number with her until she had another place to write it down. She stared at the numbers and at the words Nico had written underneath them, tightly holding the napkin between her fingers, but being careful enough not to accidentally rip the paper in her hand.
Would it be too forward of her to call him or send him a message as soon as she got home? Perhaps she should wait for a little bit. Then again, what if Nico dropped by the coffee shop tomorrow and asked her why she hadn’t called? Would he lose interest if she didn’t call him? She couldn’t wait for him to be the first one to call, neither he nor Alana had her phone number. The ball was entirely in Penelope’s court.
She pocketed the napkin again, this time in her jeans, and shook her head, glancing up at the night sky.
Thankfully, it seemed like it had only snowed last night, since there was no more snow on the streets than Penelope had seen that morning when she left for work. It wasn’t as cold as it had been that morning either, but Penelope still put her hands in the pockets of her jacket, and she extended her fingers before tightening them into fists again.
Maybe my dreams will tell me the answer for once, she thought hopefully, though she highly doubted it. Her dreams had never been helpful before, and she didn’t think they were going to start being so now. Maybe they’ll tell me whether I’m going to end up calling him, or if I’m supposed to wait until I see him again or… or WHAT I’m supposed to do.
As long as she didn’t have that stupid nightmare with the giant wolves again, Penelope knew she could deal with whatever she saw in her dreams.
She was three houses away from her own when she heard a howl that sounded much closer than the one she and Rex had heard last night. A shiver ran from the top of her head to the very end of her spine, making the little hairs on the nape of her neck and her arms stand up, despite the fact that she was wearing her jacket and the temperature wasn’t as low as it had been earlier. She turned around, glancing at the empty street behind her. All of the lampposts were on, and yet Penelope didn’t see anything or anyone.
What were you expecting to find? A damn wolf hiding behind a house?
She was about to chastise herself for her paranoia getting the best of her when she suddenly saw a distant figure approaching. It was the
figure of a man, that was for sure. As it kept approaching Penelope, she realized that the figure was followed by two other seemingly smaller figures.
She knew she ought to turn back and hurry the rest of the way home. She was only three houses away, so she could definitely make it before the three figures caught up to her. But she didn’t. Something kept her in place. Penelope felt as though the snow under her feet had turned into ice and had crawled under her skin, freezing her, paralyzing her.
Like her blood had turned into liquid nitrogen.
Soon, the three men were close enough to her that Penelope could make out their individual features. The man in the middle was the one she had seen first: burly, with short, cropped gray hair and a glare on his face. The other two men, who surrounded him like they were his bodyguards, were not as well-built, but they had black hair cropped short in the same style as the man in the middle and glares to match. They had their arms crossed over their chest, unlike the muscly man, whose hands were on the pockets of his coat.
“There you are,” said the burly guy, and his voice was like sandpaper against Penelope’s ears. He smirked at her, and alarm bells went off inside her head. “We’ve been looking for you.”
What are you doing still standing here?! Penelope screamed at herself. Get home! Get home and lock yourself in!
But she couldn’t move.
“Who are you?” she demanded, unable to even take a step back. “What do you want?”
“Why,” the man continued, holding out his hands to his sides, as if his answer should’ve been obvious to her, “we want the girl who can see the future, of course.”
Penelope could’ve sworn her heart had dropped from her chest to her feet. How did they know about that? How did they know about her?
She finally managed to get her legs to respond to her, and she took a step back in the direction of her home.