Chapter 4 (Annette)
2111 Words
“It’s not a date,” I told my reflection for the third time.
My reflection didn’t look convinced.
I’d changed shirts twice already—three times if you counted the moment of weakness where I’d considered the dress Lyanna bought me last Christmas that I’d never worn. The blue sweater was casual but nice. The gray one was safer. Less “I’m trying too hard” and more “I just happened to look decent today.”
I went with the blue.
“You’re fidgeting.” Lyanna’s voice came from my doorway.
I jumped, spinning around. “I’m not fidgeting.”
“You’ve changed three times.” She leaned against the frame, arms crossed, that knowing smile spreading across her face. “What’s his name?”
“There’s no name. I’m just getting a laptop.”
“Uh-huh.” She pushed off the doorframe and walked into my room, sitting on my bed like she owned it. “And you need to change shirts three times for… a laptop?”
“Twice.”
“So there IS a guy.”
I tidied my hair, staring at the mirror again, refusing to look at her. “He’s just being nice. He spilled coffee on my notes, so he’s replacing my laptop. It’s not—”
“A date?” Lyanna’s grin widened. “Right. Definitely not a date.”
My phone buzzed on my nightstand.
Kael: Still good for 2pm? I’m heading to the store now.
I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. It wasn’t too late to cancel. I could say I was sick, or busy, or that I’d changed my mind about accepting a brand new laptop from a complete stranger.
But the thing was… I didn’t want to cancel.
And that was the problem.
I typed back: Yeah, see you then.
His response came immediately: See you soon
Three words. Three simple words that made my stomach do something stupid.
“Why are you smiling at your phone like that?” I nearly dropped it. I’d forgotten Lyanna was still here. I looked at her, eyebrow raised, arms crossed.
“I’m not smiling.”
“You absolutely are.” She sighed softly and flopped onto my bed. “So who is he?”
“No one. Just someone who’s replacing my laptop.”
Lyanna sat up. “Wait. Someone’s buying you a laptop? Annette, you can’t just accept expensive gifts from strange men—”
“He’s not strange. He’s…” I paused. What was Kael, exactly? “Nice. He accidentally spilled coffee on my notes, and he insisted on replacing my laptop. I tried to say no.”
“Clearly not hard enough.” But Lyanna was smiling now. “What does he look like?”
Heat crept up my neck. “Does it matter?”
“Oh my God, he’s hot, isn’t he?” She sighed again, this time with a worrying smile
“Annette—”
“He was really insistent. And honestly?” I looked down at my bandaged hands, at the laptop bag with its cracked screen. “I need it. For my thesis. I can’t afford to replace it myself right now.”
Lyanna’s expression softened. She knew how much my thesis meant to me. “Okay. But text me when you get there. And when you’re done. And if anything feels weird—”
“I’ll call you immediately,” I finished. “I know the drill.”
She hugged me. “Have fun. But not too much fun.”
He was already there when I arrived.
Kael stood outside the Apple Store with his hands in his pockets, looking completely at ease despite the fact that he was about to drop hundreds—maybe thousands—of dollars on a laptop for a girl he’d met yesterday. When he saw me, his face lit up, and something in my chest did a stupid, traitorous flip.
Just a laptop replacement, I reminded myself. A guilt-driven, overly generous laptop replacement.
“Annette.” He said my name like he’d been waiting all day to say it.
“Hi.” I adjusted my bag strap, suddenly aware of how nervous I felt. “You really don’t have to do this. I’ve been thinking about it, and it’s too much—”
“It’s not too much.” He stepped closer, and I caught his scent—something woodsy and clean that made my pulse quicken. “I ruined your notes. The least I can do is make sure you can rewrite them.”
“But a whole laptop—”
“ is necessary for a master’s thesis, right?” His eyes—dark and intense—held mine. “Let me do this. Please.”
There was something in the way he said it. Not demanding, not even really asking. Just… sincere. Like it genuinely mattered to him that I had what I needed.
“Okay,” I heard myself say. “But I’m paying you back.”
His lips curved into a small smile. “We’ll see about that.”
“What about this one?”
I looked up from the laptop I’d been studying to find Kael holding up a MacBook Pro. The expensive one. The one with all the upgrades and the price tag that probably cost more than my paycheck.
“Absolutely not,” I said immediately.
“Why not? You said you need it for video editing, right? For your research presentations?”
“I said I sometimes do video editing. Sometimes. Like, twice.” I pointed at the much more reasonable MacBook Air on the table. “This one is fine. More than fine.”
“But this one is better.” He set the Pro down in front of me. “Better processor, more storage, higher resolution screen—”
“Kael.” I looked at him seriously. “That’s a three-thousand-dollar laptop.”
“And?”
“And I’m not letting you spend three thousand dollars on me.”
He tilted his head, studying me. “What if I want to?”
“Then I’d say you’re being ridiculous.”
“Or generous.”
“Ridiculously generous.”
His lips quirked up. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“They said it’ll take about forty-five minutes to set everything up and transfer what they can from your old laptop,” Kael said as we left the store, me clutching the receipt I’d insisted on taking even though he’d paid. “Want to grab coffee while we wait?”
I should say no. I should thank him for the laptop and wait by myself like a normal person who didn’t let attractive strangers spend obscene amounts of money on them.
“Sure,” I said instead.
We walked to a small café two blocks down, the kind with mismatched furniture and local art on the walls. Kael held the door for me, and we claimed a corner table near the window.
“What do you want?” he asked, already pulling out his wallet.
“I can pay for my own coffee—”
“Annette.”
The way he said my name made me stop. Not frustrated, not annoyed. Just… patient. Like he had all the time in the world to wait for me to accept that he wanted to do this.
“Vanilla latte,” I said quietly.
His smile was devastating. “Be right back.”
I watched him walk to the counter, watched the barista’s eyes widen slightly when she saw him, watched him order without even glancing at the menu. He moved with this easy confidence that I envied. Like he’d never questioned his place in the world.
What would that be like?
He came back with two drinks—my latte and what looked like black coffee for himself—and a chocolate croissant.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I know.” He slid into the seat across from me. “But they looked good, and I figured we could share.”
We. Share. Two words that felt way more significant than they should.
I wrapped my hands around the latte, letting the warmth seep through the bandages.
“So,” Kael said, breaking off a piece of the croissant. “Master’s thesis on pack dynamics. That’s specific.”
“I’ve always been interested in hierarchies. How groups organize themselves, who leads, who follows.” I took a sip. “It’s not that different from human societies. We just use prettier words.”
“And where do you fit in those hierarchies?”
I laughed, but it came out bitter. “Nowhere. I’m the outlier who doesn’t quite fit anywhere.”
“That sounds lonely.”
“Sometimes. But you get used to it.”
“You shouldn’t have to.” His eyes held mine, intense and genuine.
The words caught in my throat. I deflected. “What about you? Where do you fit?”
“That’s complicated.” He turned his coffee cup in his hands. “My family has expectations. Responsibilities. Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in what I’m supposed to be instead of who I am.”
“Sounds suffocating.”
“It can be. But sitting here with you?” He smiled. “This is the most normal I’ve felt in a long time.”
My heart flipped.
“I was adopted,” I said suddenly. “When I was a baby. I don’t remember my birth family.”
“Do you want to?”
“Sometimes I wonder who they were. Why they gave me up.” I gestured at myself. “I don’t look like my adoptive family. Sometimes I feel like there’s something missing. Some piece of myself I’ll never understand.”
“What if you found out? Would you want to know?”
“I don’t know. Would it even matter? I am who I am, regardless of where I came from.”
“It might matter more than you think,” he said quietly.
“My mother went through something difficult,” Kael said, staring out the window. “Something that broke her. I didn’t think she’d recover.”
“I’m sorry.”
“She’s stronger now. Healing.” He looked back at me. “It taught me that strength isn’t about never breaking. It’s about putting yourself back together after.”
Without thinking, I reached across the table and touched his hand. “She sounds badass.”
He chuckled and his eyes dropped to where our hands connected, then back to my face. “I’m glad I met you.”
“Me too.”
My phone buzzed on the table. Both of us jumped slightly, the moment breaking.
I pulled my hand back, feeling the loss of contact immediately.
Lyanna: How’s it going? Need a ride home?
I glanced at the time. We’d been sitting here for almost two hours. It felt like twenty minutes.
“I should…” I gestured vaguely at my phone. “My sister’s checking in.”
“Right. Of course.” Kael stood, and I noticed the reluctance in the movement. Like he didn’t want this to end either. “I’ll text the store, make sure your laptop’s ready.”
We walked back together, the comfortable silence between us feeling significant. When we reached the Apple Store, the employee handed over a bag with my new laptop, and I clutched it like a lifeline.
“Thank you,” I said. “Really. This is… you didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.” He stepped closer, and I caught that woodsy scent again. “Can I see you again?”
My heart was hammering. “I’d like that.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” I agreed.
I texted Lyanna: Ready when you are.
Outside, we waited in comfortable silence, neither quite ready to say goodbye.
Then Lyanna’s car pulled up.
Lyanna stepped out of the car, and her eyes locked on Kael. Her expression shifted instantly—alarm, maybe fear.
“Annette. We need to go.”
“Lyanna, this is Kael, he—”
“I know who he is.” Her voice was cold in a way I’d never heard. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Before I could respond, another car pulled up. A man got out—tall, dark-haired, walking toward us.
And then everything stopped.
Lyanna went completely still. The man froze mid-step. They stared at each other like the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
I looked between them, recognition dawning.
Oh.
Oh no.
- Writer
