CHAPTER 4
1082 Words
Rain was coming down in sheets now. Isabella’s teeth were chattering so hard she thought they might c***k.
Luka stood in front of her, back to her, shoulders tense under his soaked dark coat.
“Get on.”
Isabella stared at his back. “What?”
“You heard me.” He didn’t turn around. “Get on my back, Isabella. Your ankle is swelling.”
She hesitated. “We’re not... I mean, you said—”
“Isabella.”
His voice wasn’t angry anymore. Just tired. “Get on.”
She swallowed. Wrapped her arms around his neck and climbed on.
He was warm. Solid. He adjusted her carefully, like she weighed nothing, and started walking down the trail.
For a long time there was only the sound of rain and their breathing.
“I’m sorry,” Isabella whispered into his shoulder. “For today. For the parking lot. For everything. I won’t ask about the interview again. I promise. I just... I’m so sorry I interrupted your... your day.”
Luka didn’t answer for a while. Then: “You should’ve listened when I told you to leave.”
“I know.”
Another beat.
“I’m sorry too,” he said, awkward, like the words hurt. “For what I said. At the overlook.”
Isabella snorted, wet and ugly. “That was the worst apology I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“I know.” She could hear the ghost of a smile in his voice. “I’m not good at this.”
“Clearly.”
They walked in silence again. The rain eased to a drizzle.
“Luka?”
“What.”
“Am I heavy?”
“Don’t ask that.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s cliche.”
Isabella buried her face in his shoulder to hide her grin. “I was going to say I’m light as a feather.”
“You’re not light as a feather.”
“Rude!” She gasped dramatically. “You’re so mean.”
“You’re annoying.”
She kicked her legs a little. He jolted.
“Stop that.”
“Make me.”
“If you don’t stop I’m dropping you in that puddle.”
Isabella immediately grabbed on tighter. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
She grinned into his coat. “Are we friends now? Because people usually become friends after fighting.”
“No.”
She pouted. Tried to wiggle off his back. “Then put me down. You shouldn’t carry people you’re not friends with.”
He tightened his grip. “Stop squirming.”
“See! You do care!”
Luka shook his head. She could feel him fighting a smile. “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you.”
His car was parked at the trailhead. Black. Quiet. Different from the one he drove that night. Just as expensive.
He set her in the passenger seat carefully. Wrapped her ankle with a bandage from the glove compartment first aid kit. His hands were careful. Gentle.
Then he got in the driver’s side and they drove in silence for ten minutes.
Her stomach growled. Loudly.
Isabella went red. “I’m fine.”
Luka glanced at her. One corner of his mouth twitched. “Right.”
He pulled into a 24-hour diner twenty minutes later. Neon sign. Vinyl booths. Smelled like coffee and syrup.
They sat in a corner booth. He ordered black coffee. She ordered pancakes and orange juice and tried not to stare at how his wet hair was curling at the edges.
The waitress left. It was quiet.
“Why pancakes?” Luka asked.
Isabella shrugged. “Comfort food. Sue me.”
“They were her favorites,” he said, quiet.
The air got heavy. Isabella didn’t need a translator to understand who he was talking about.
Isabella reached across the table without thinking and touched his hand. “I’m sorry. About your mom.”
He looked down at her hand on his. Didn’t pull away. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
He finally pulled back. Took a sip of coffee. “What do you want to know, Isabella.”
She blinked. “What?”
“You said twenty minutes. Ask your questions.”
“I... I can’t. Not now.”
“Why not.”
“Because this isn’t an interview.” She gestured between them. “This is... this is just us. Eating pancakes. In a diner. At 6AM. And I don’t want to ruin it.”
Luka studied her. For the first time since the parking lot, his guard was down.
“You’re weird,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
They talked. About nothing. About bad movies. About how he hated coffee shops because they were too loud. About how they keyed her ex’s car and didn’t regret it.
She laughed. He almost smiled.
*******
He pulled up to her building. Didn’t turn the car off.
“Thank you,” Isabella said. “For... everything. The carrying. The pancakes. Not leaving me in the ditch.”
Luka nodded. “Go inside. Ice your ankle.”
She reached for the door. Paused. “Luka?”
He looked at her.
“I know I messed up. And I know you don’t owe me anything. But if you ever want to—”
“Monday,” he cut in. Staring at the windshield. “2PM. My office. 20 minutes.”
Isabella froze. “What?”
“You heard me.” He finally looked at her. “20 minutes. Don’t be late. And don’t bring that press ID.”
Her mouth fell open. Then she was clapping, bouncing in her seat like a kid. Exactly like she did the night he helped her vandalize Drew’s car.
“Really?? Oh my god, thank you! Thank you!”
Luka watched her. The corner of his mouth lifted. Just a little.
“Stop that. You’re drawing attention.”
“I don’t care!” She grabbed her crutches from the backseat. “2PM. I’ll be there. I promise!”
She got out. Closed the door. Waved like an i***t.
He sat there for a second. Watched her limp-hop to her door, still grinning.
Then he drove off.
Isabella stood on her porch, crutches under one arm, heart doing something stupid in her chest.
Her phone buzzed.
Maddie: DID YOU GET HIM????
Isabella: I think I messed up. and he still gave me the interview.
Maddie: WHAT?!!!. DETAILS. NOW.
She wasn’t the footnote.
Not yet.
- Writer
