M A T T  p u l l s  o v e r  by a restaurant I've never seen before. 'Dance to the Beets', it reads.

Beets?

I double check the sign. To my horror, it didn't miraculously rearrange its letters into something more... edible.

Which only means one thing: the starring factor of my nightmares is coming to life.  

"I hope you don't mind that I'm a vegetarian." Matt breaks my string of horrific realizations. "Don't worry, all-veggie meals aren't as bad as people make it out to be."

I plaster a smile on my face and say, "Nah, I'm good with all-plant diets. Plants are underrated. We are alive all thanks to them, after all."

We hop out of his car and enter the restaurant. The place had nice, reddish colored decorations. Posters praising beets are hung across the left wall, and to the right, a vast menu occupied the polished brick wall. 

The whole place was like a beet fan club. 

We are seated in the middle of the booth area. A waiter in maroon khakis and pink polo shirt hands us the menus and departs. 

Scanning the menu, I realize that all the items— surprise, surprise— consist of beets as the main ingredient. I take back my words; this is a nightmare. 

A few minutes later, the waiter takes our orders. I settle on a sweet potato and beet pie, while Matt orders beet mac 'n cheese. We both choose beet Sprites, mainly because there was nothing else that is beet-less. 

"So," Matt says, breaking the silence, "do you think your fate result is short-termed or long-termed?"

"What do you mean?" I ask. 

"Well, I heard that for some people, the fate result can actually be a temporary, albeit influential, occurrence in one's life. So do you think yours is ephemeral?"

I think about it, recalling bits of the Fate that is etched in my head even though they meant nothing at all. "I honestly don't know. I can't even understand what it says. As in I bet it's some sort of a puzzle, for sure. You?"

He drums his fingers twice on the glass table before answering. "Mine is sort of a puzzle, too. Though it didn't sound like a bad thing at all." 

I shrug, "Not so fast. Not to be a buzzkill, but you never know what fate has in save for you."

Our food comes in, and I fight the lingering urge to excuse myself and hide in a bathroom stall until everyone forgets I exist. 

Instead, I take a bite out of my pie, and Matt looks at me expectantly. 

At first, it tasted like a normal potato pie, except it had an extra creamy flavor to it: a savory tang that was close to traditional potato pies but substantially richer, with a dash of harmonious spices. It didn't taste bad at all. So I went to nod in approval at Matt- 

-but then, like a second thought, the decadent flavor transformed into what I discerned was rotten tomatoes. I guess the potatoes were doing their job perfectly until the beets interrupted all the fun and went: 'Oh, here comes my part!' 

Matt's face drops at my latter expression. "Hey now, it isn't that bad, is it?"

I smile through the agony I'm living through with every chew. "It has an... unusual variety of palates is all." 

We go through the rest of the meal in silence, with me enjoying the first few seconds of the pie and trying to ignore the lingering aftertaste. When our drinks came, I took a huge, first sip. And to my dismay, it had the same good-then-bad effect as my food. 

"You and beet fruits are frenemies, it seems," Matt mused when he finds that my expression upon taking the first sip mirrored the one I showed earlier. 

"No kidding," I mumbled.

We decide to go for a walk after leaving the restaurant. Matt told me he's part of our school's lacrosse team. I wasn't surprised because it's logical: he's one of the popular jocks and he looks like he's in great shape for lacrosse. He's asked me to come see him play next week, and for his sake, I promised to show up and to even paint my face in our school's colors. 

Matt parks the car by my house, and before peeling away from my street, he rolls down the passenger side's window and calls out, "Hey, Moira."

I turn around. "Yeah?"

"I've had a great day today. We need to do that more often."

I smile at him. "Sure. You've got my number."

He gives me a thumbs up before driving away. I watch him go with a goofy smile on my face. Perhaps the main element of this outing wasn't my idea of an ideal date, but Matt is surely a fun guy to be around.

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"Are you sure it was a date though? And with Matt fudging Butler?" Mia whisper-gasps, slamming a hand on her chest in mock surprise. The school librarian shoots her a warning glare, sobering her into silence - or at least a more toned-down volume. 

"Mhm," I consent distractedly, trying to concentrate on the task at hand: writing a history essay that was assigned just last period. Don't mind me: it's a typical nerd thing.

"Well," she says in a quiet tone, "I'm proud of you, sistah. I can't believe that you landed your first date with a jock. Are you guys going to do it tonight?"

"Do it?" I question distractedly in a loud voice. Instantly, I realize what she meant. My face heats up as the school librarian pops up in front of our table with a sinister glower. Oops. 

We got kicked out of the library, but the bell rang a few minutes later anyway, so Mia and I parted ways to attend the last class of the day. 

I go to settle in my usual spot in Geometry when I find Matt seated next to my desk, looking out of the window distractedly. I take a deep breath before walking the length of the class. 

"Hey," I greet him silently, dumping my bag on the floor. 

He turns to me and gives me a toothy grin. "Hey, yourself. Never realized you were in this class." 

I smile shyly. What could one possibly say to that? 

During the lesson, I felt Matt's eyes follow my every move. I couldn't pay attention in class because of the pressure of his gaze. My feet were tucked underneath my seat restlessly, and I played with my pen self-consciously. When the class was out, I quickly filed my notes and left the class. 

Just before reaching the gates, though, I hear Matt's voice calling my name from a distance. People are eyeing the both of us as I await his approaching figure. 

"Moira, wait up. Are you free this evening?" He asks, and we both walk together to the parking lot. 

"I guess, yeah. Unless my dad decides that tomorrow, in particular, is a school night." I chuckle. "Why?"

"Well, I was planning on taking my dogs for a walk in Central Park. Would you like to meet me there and maybe keep me company? Or are you not a dog person?" He asks with a boyish smile.

I then recall my conversation earlier with Mia. Before we got kicked out, she pointed out that maybe it wasn't a date. Due to my lack of experience in such matters, I had to make sure myself what Matt and I exactly were.  

So I brace myself for the worst. "As in a second date? Or is it the first? Am I going too fast with this?" I spout, feeling lamer with every word I let out.

Matt shakes his head, amused. "Let's count this as a second mini date, yeah?"

"Ok, then. Sounds like a plan." I say bashfully. "I'll see you then. If I won't be able to make it, I'll text you."

"Alrighty. See you, Moira." He waves at me before heading in the opposite direction, towards his car. 

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With some miracle, my dad decides to ignore the fact that we're in the middle of the week and lets me off for the night. Giddy with happiness, I set to text Matt to confirm our meetup. 

Hey Matt. Guess who let his daughter go on a mini date on a school night?

A few moments later, my phone chirps. I grab my phone hastily and read what he sent.

Matt: Your dad is the coolest xx here's Bailey saying hi! (video)

He sent me a GIF of him and one of his dogs. I coo at how cute they look and send him a string of heart emojis.

Matt: Let's meet at the Pond. You'll know it's me when you find me ;) 

A few hours later, after showering and getting ready, I grab some snacks - including a bunch of vegan-friendly candies like Starburst and Skittles as well as a pack of Campfire marshmallows for myself - and head outside, embracing the flower-scented gust of early April. 

I make it to the destination a few minutes later - living close to Central Park is a luxury a few are grateful for here in Manhattan. After consulting a map and taking a couple of turns, I find the pond Matt was talking about.

And he was absolutely right: I'd know it when I found him. 

Struggling with five or so leashes, Matt tugs at the loops in his hand and tries to command his dogs to sit still. Unfortunately, his dogs are not resilient, and they defiantly struggle to break free from their leashes. I come to my senses and rush to help the poor boy. 

"Need a hand with these little doggies?" I ask, already handling some of the dogs' leash loops.

Matt looks up and grins at me, but then looks away and back to his pets when Bailey the Labrador tried to chew her rubbery loop from Matt's grip. "They're not usually that perked up, but apparently they have a soft spot for huge stuffed cookie monsters." He points with his head to the right, and I look to where he's indicating to find a stuffed animals parlor, where a huge prized Cookie Monster was hung, gleaming in the center like a rewarding treat.

Together, Matt and I manage to distract the dogs enough to lead them away to a less-appealing area. When they start sniffing around and showing their good behavior, we let them off their leashes to explore the place.

Matt and I find a bench close to the pond where we could keep an eye on the five dogs. I take out my pack of marshmallows and offer Matt some.

One look at the marshmallows and he instantly goes green. I give him a questioning look.

He explains, " For me, marshmallows are a no-go."

A surprised gasp escapes me. "You don't like them precious mallows?" 

"Don't like? I detest them. In fact, this glutinous snack and similar sweets are what made me become a vegetarian. It's weird, I know, but maybe it's a psychological thing. What else've you got?" 

"Well, I got some dried fruits, Reese's, and oh! I got a bunch of accidentally-vegan chocolate bars," I say, rummaging through my tote bag. 

Matt takes his chance and snatches the pack of Reese's hungrily. I narrow my eyes at him. "Vegetarian, you said?"

He guiltily eyes the pack of peanut butter cups before saying, "Reese's is my weakest spot. It's the only exception in my vegetarian diet." 

"Mhm. It's that way for me only for marshmallows. They're my go-to snack when I'm feeling down." One of the dogs, the brown beagle, makes its way toward us. It looks up at me with its tongue stuck out. I scratch behind its ear softly. It nods its head deeply into my touch.

"That's Delwin. He's a ray of sunshine, that one." Matt studies my interaction with Delwin with a small smile on his face.

"Hey, Moira?" Matt shifts to face me when the silence stretches.  

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you a question?" He drums his fingers on his thigh.  

"Shoot," I say, still running my fingers through Delwin's caramel fur.

He clears his throat. "What's your favorite color?"

My eyes widen in surprise before I burst out laughing. Not expecting that reaction, Matt smiles but gives me a puzzled look. "What's so funny?"

I wipe the tears that have traitorously escaped my eyes. "Nothing. It's just the way you braced yourself before the "bomb" question... I thought you'd ask me whether I'm a virgin." 

Despite the setting sun and the awakening of the shadows, I could make out a red tinge adorning his ears and neck. "It's just...a legit question. I mean, the "favorite color" question.  Don't people ask that in dates?" 

"Hold up," I pause, sobering up. "This is your first date?" 

"Well," he says, running a hand through his messy blonde hair nervously, "second if you count yesterday, but technically, yeah."

"Wow." I never thought someone as popular as Matt wouldn't have dated anyone as far as the second year of high school. Don't get me wrong: we're still sophomores and most of my class hadn't even gone to parties, but I thought the popular kids were way ahead on the social bandwagon. 

"Yeah. Just... please don't mention that in front of... my teammates." He rubs his reddened neck. 

I smile at him and try to fuse the tension. "Don't worry. I won't tell a thing. Actually, it's my first date too - second after yesterday - so you're good." 

"You never told me your favorite color though." He smirks, punching my arm playfully.

I gave that a thought. I never had a favorite color. It all depends on my mood and what it's applied to. So I glance around me and give my intuitiveness the stirring wheel. What catches my attention is a particular shade in the sunset sky above. I point toward it and say, "I'm not subjective toward colors, but I think I choose this beautiful shade of blue for now. What about yours?" 

He pauses at my answer and then he grins. "Black, of course. What kind of question is that?"  

I give him a taunting pointed look. "Should've guessed." 

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"Yeah, yeah. Ugh, alright. Got it. Goddamit, I know! See yah." I hang up before Mia could utter another command, groaning out loud sleepily. 

Kyle Moore, Ella's eldest brother and Mia's boyfriend, is throwing an early party this Sunday, as in today. Mia is pretending she's throwing it for me for taking the Fate tests successfully without mentally breaking down when in actuality the party is thrown by a bunch of seniors from our school to celebrate... whatever they were celebrating. 

Friday comes around in a haze, so does Saturday, but today, Mia is making a huge deal out of the upcoming party and troubles my sleep as early as 8 am to "wake my lazy bum up and help her out with the themed decorations". If it weren't for Matt, a huge enthusiast for de-school parties, I would've fed both of my best friends an excuse and spent the night cuddling with my favorite comforter while snacking on my favorite snacks. But I dismiss these heavenly thoughts before I could lust for them and ruin my mood.

At least Matt promised that we'll leave when the night was still young so I could have some rewarding me-time before Monday takes over the week.

I take a long shower, washing my delicate brown curls leisurely. I then get dressed: I put on a short-sleeved white laced shirt over a white tank top, followed by a nude pink maxi boho skirt, and faux-leather cream vintage sandals. 

I leave my hair to dry. I fix the frizz by applying some hairspray and putting up my hair in a ponytail. 

Matt, like the punctual gentleman that he is, shows up 45 minutes behind schedule. As soon as I see him, I hit him on the head disapprovingly. 

"Ow! What was that for, huh?" He rubs the back of his head, pouting at me with a playful glint in his greenish-blue eyes. 

"Exactly what have you been doing in the past hour? Shaving your legs?" I eye him dubiously. 

He rolls his eyes at me but gives me a pouty face. "I was fixing something for my dad 'cause he needed an extra set of hands. Didn't realize I was running late."

"Alright, alright. Let's get going before Mia whips our bums." 

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"DO WE NEED EXTRA SNACKS?" Ella shouts from downstairs.

"There's no such thing as extra snacks, Ella. Snacks never have limits. But do not you worry, my comrade. My boyfriend is on a quest to Target and he knows what to do."

"DO NOT REFER TO MY BROTHER AS YOUR BOYFRIEND WHEN I'M AROUND, BRUJA," Ella 'yells', her naturally toned-down voice barely audible from the crunsh sound of the dangling paper decorations.

"SORRY," Mia says unapologetically, and then looks back at me from the top and eyes my reticence with a smirk.

"What?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Would rather cuddle with your new boyfriend on Ella's couch, don't you?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I groan.

"Yet." She wiggles her eyebrows.

I smack her calf, causing her balance to waver. The ladder I'm holding down tips forward with a warning groan, but I push it back toward the wall hurriedly. When Mia stops rocking like a clown and regains her foothold, she glares at me, paper decorations crushed under her murderous grip. 

"Moira, you stupid child! I almost fell off and broke my neck!"

I shrug, mirroring her smirk from earlier. "Would've been a priceless spectacle."

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When we were done with hanging the decorations, all four of us - Matt, Mia, Ella, and I - went food shopping. Not for the party, but for ourselves. It was still 2 pm, so we had plenty of time before everyone started coming.

I find Matt at the baked good section, searching the shelves for something decadent. "Hey, Matt?" Matt looks up when he hears his name. "Found something you'd like." I throw him the pack, and as soon as he registers the content, he lets it drop from his hands.

"GAAAH!" He zooms past me, away from the pack of mini marshmallows.

"Oh, oh, oh! Are you guys playing the floor is lava?" Ella passes by us, her cart full to the brim with frozen pizza and burger patties. Matt eyes her cart with disgust.

"He's a vegetarian and he isn't a fan of gelatin." I dump my own snacks in Ella's cart.

"Whaaaah? How are you two dating, then?" Mia pipes in, throwing her Haribo packs (yes, plural) one by one in Ella's cart. Ella gives us both a dirty look, and we both flutter our eyes innocently.

"You know that saying, opposites attract? Well, it's something of the sort," Matt says, bumping my ponytail with his fist as if it were a punching bag.

"Hey! My ponytail is a restricted section!" I swat his hand away.

He rubs his neck nape with one hand and raises the other in defense. "Sorry!"

Mia bursts out laughing and punches Matt in the back not-so playfully. "Relax. She's just kidding. You know? For a jock, you pretty much are a brownie."

He blushes fiercely, and I fight the urge to squeeze his reddened cheeks. "Hey! I'm a man. Respect my ultimate manliness."

Ella actually coos, causing Matt to scowl. "You guys are evil."

Mia stands tall and boasts, "So we were told."

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Ella's place, in normal circumstances, is usually one where I'd feel like I'm visiting my grandma's house on the city side. Un-Manhattan-like, the Upper West Side is shaded by thick, ancient trees and adorned with scattered antique shops. However, with a high school party taking its toll, this lush-full, rural area reclined back to its rightful setting in a borough as rowdy as Manhattan, with music blaring out and the beat of the shuffling songs rebounding through the bodies of everyone within the radius of this neighborhood.   

Matt and I walk on the unkempt grass of the front-yard, avoiding drunken wanderers and high seniors. We manage to make it to the front door in one piece.

The front door was wide open and welcome for all. We found a vacant couch and decided to settle there until either Ella or Mia finds us: as soon as the first wave of people arrived, the pair disappeared through the crowds, possibly handling the task of hosting the party. I tsk to myself. As if.  

Instead of my friends, however, one of Matt's football teammates found us first. He had a brunette beauty clinging to his bulky arm, playing with his shaggy hair with no mercy. I find myself rolling my eyes. Let the drama begin. 

"Mattaaaaaay! Good game last week, kiddo. We've been qualified all thanks to you, bud!" The guy ignores my existence, his glazed-over drunken eyes fixed only on Matt. The latter looks tense, apparently not liking the conversation. 

"Um, thanks, Ned. You played alright, too." He says, then sets to stand up. "I gotta go get Moira a drink. Excuse me."

Just as we were about to leave our seats, the guy places a hand on Matt's shoulder, forcing him to return to his seat. I share a puzzled look with Matt, who smiles at me in reassurance. 

That's when the guy, Ned, decides to acknowledge me. He motions his hand in salutation, and I wave awkwardly back at him. 

"Remain at rest, friend. I'll get you and your girl something to drink. They got beer here, Mattey! Better get some of it before it runs out." He sways back with the brunette still clinging to his side. The dancing bodies around them engulf the pair. 

Matt breathes out in relief. I ask him, "Who the Hades was that?"

"He's, uh, a teammate. A senior. I thought it'd go worse than that because he's been wanting to make my life a burning hell because of the fact that I'm coach's favorite, I guess. Which is totally not true given that I'm one of few who has to practice every Saturday when everyone else snores in their beds." He glances at me. "Let's get some pizza before he comes back and actually remembers why he came to me in the first place." 

I laugh. "A'right."

On our way to the kitchen, I find Ella perched by the stools, drinking a mysterious beverage in a red cup. 

"Hey, Elaine," I say. "Wutcha drinking?" 

Ella smiles at me a little too brightly, which, from experience, is not so Ella-like.

"Want some punch?" She giddily pushes the cup toward me, causing the overflowing cup to spill scarlet fluid on my white shirt. 

"Whoopsa! I'll get something to clean that up for you!" She rushes to the kitchen and bumps into Mia, spilling more punch on the poor girl. Only Mia is less forgiving than I was and decides to snatch a cup from someone's grasp and spills it all over Ella's blonde hair. 

Ella gasps, punch dripping all over her face and smudging her light makeup. They both gawk at each other angrily, and I wouldn't be surprised if their ears fumed like rushy trains. 

I grab Matt's hand, turn around, and walk toward the front door before the whole thing goes south, for one way or another, they'll land me into the climax of the problem and blame me for God-knows-what. I lead us toward my favorite ancient tree, where Ella's childhood tire swing still perched on a withered tree trunk. I settle on it while Matt gracefully climbs the tree and sits on the branch from which the tire is tied. 

We remain silent for a few minutes, watching the party take its place. I knew my friends would get tipsy or distracted and forget I ever existed, but that didn't really faze me. I know they loved me despite their quirky, eccentric selves. 

I steal a look at Matt, who I found was studying me intently. I feeel my face heat up from the attention. 

"What?" I crook, fighting the urge to look away. Maintaining eye contact still poses a challenge for me. 

"It's just... I really want to get to know you." He says, breaking the long eye contact by running a hand through the tree trunk he's perched on. "I know this sounds corny, but for some reason, I knew you're special the first time I saw you back in the Analytic building. It's like you have this aura around you like you're Chosen or something."

"Chosen?" I ask, confuzzled. 

"Not literally. I mean that maybe you have a purpose bigger than that of any of us. Like you were made for something... grand. That's what I think."

"Thank you, Matt," I smile at him, appreciating his compliment. 

"No, I mean it." He says, now really looking at me. His aquamarine-blue eyes never looked so vibrant before now; they are like halos of resplendence, reflecting all the light around us. "It's not flattery. And I wonder if anyone else can see it. I wonder if I'm not the only one who can see you as someone with potential."

My breath hitches in my throat. I never heard anything like this in my entire life. Never before has someone made me feel so singled out. Not even my parents told me something as... impacting as this. Compared to what Matt was saying, assuming he was genuine about it, everything else dimmed out of existence.

And for some reason, his words clicked inside me, like I realized that was the last piece of the constant puzzling questions I keep getting about myself, and I can rest assured that I'm whole, that I'm unfractured, that I am, at last, aware of my full worth. 

His words are true. This isn't just a matter of reality. His words make sense, a hundred percent. My instincts believe him. Tugged at the credence of his words, testing their promise. Could they hold? Could they become a reality? Is this what it feels like to be confident in myself? I never thought of myself as equal to everyone else. I always degraded my worth; denying what everybody said about me was my specialty.

And that's when I saw it: a flash of light from somewhere. I think - initially - that someone is playing with the lighting system in Ella's house. But then I realize that the flash - the shimmer - was, in fact, radiating from my wrist.

I look in horror as the light traced the core of my wrist, traveling up my forearm and resting on my shoulder.

From afar, it would seem like my left arm is wrapped in fairy lights, but up close, it is fantasy awakened into reality.

And Matt saw it too. 

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Happy weekend, folks! Do you guys like chapters with several close-cut scenes or few ones? 

Lemme know in the comments or in dm!

Thank you for reading ^_^

- Freude and Luna ♪