"YOU?" HE ASKED back, equally surprised.

I stood up real fast, almost staggering back from the guitar still on me before I took it off and handed it to Lillian, who took it graciously while looking back and forth between Mr Not-Neel and I.

"Why—" he started.

"Wait." I held up a hand before he could get another word in. His skin flushed slightly, though, I'd noticed, a certain mischief in his eyes wouldn't seem to tamper down no matter what he was feeling, whether it was joy or guilt or even surprise, and I did not like that. I did not like it one bit that his eyes seemed to devour whatever was in front of him, as if he was the single most important audience for the play that was the world. Locking gazes with him was quite... thrilling, and I swallowed.

I really needed to stop. I summed it up that all the sugary treats I'd had were absolutely positively messing with my brain.

I banished my quick analytical calculations and got straight to the point. "I thought I paid that bill to Delight Pops," I started. "Oops, nope, not I thought." I met his eyes and crossed my arms. "I know that I paid that to Delight Pops and to Carrie, but not your personal tip jar, mister Not-Neel."

"Your— wait. You know Carrie?"

"That doesn't even matter." I squinted at him in disbelief. "That's, like, the descriptive detail of my essay and you're choosing to ignore everything else and hyper-analyze just that. Wow, thanks." I uncrossed my arms then and stared him down. "But if you must know," I added fake-sweetly, "Carrie and I became best-friends after she fixed my order that you butchered."

His eyes slightly widened but he held his stance. "Miss—"

"Not only butchered, but then you tried to convince me of your buffoonery theories on the density of whipped cream."

He stared at me the way he did in the coffee shop— as if he was thinking Why me? and What am I encountering right now? But then suddenly, his face was a smooth canvas, no expression what-so-ever, and he nodded in resignation, sighing. Finally, it seemed, he was admitting defeat.

Or, um, at the very least saying sorry— I was all talk and no show, after all. I didn't have the slightest clue what I'd do if he'd had a sassy rebutting point for what I'd said. I hadn't really prepared for anything like it, and half of my spiel to Not-Neel was running on the high from all that sugar, and not from my logical brain.

"I'm truly sorry about that. I don't know if anyone told you already, but there was a bet about working at the place and how I wouldn't be able to do it—"

"Yeah, the real Neel told me," I nodded, emphasizing the 'real'. "Like, about that—"

"Do we really want to get into the complications of the name mishaps, Miss Almond Baba?" the guy shot back, and I faltered slightly, blushing. I bit my lip, a guilty habit, noticing his dark eyes fall to my mouth for the slightest second before meeting my gaze again. I looked away in a hurry and cleared my throat.

And such looking away brought me back to reality where Lillian was still watching us with her jaw slightly dropped.

"Lillian!" I cried (a bit too frantically) and she startled out of her trance. I lowered my voice to a more appropriate volume so only we could hear each other. "Do you know how to get home from here? Or are you taking the bus as well?"

The girl strapped the guitar back on and smiled at me. "No, I live right by here. If you ask around for the Dunkley family, anyone will tell you where my house is. Will you visit me, Cora?"

"Why, I would love to," I grinned back, pleased. I forgot about Mr Not-Neel's deal for the moment and gave Lillian a hug. "Next time, remember that if you're dealing with someone who is filled with so much...hatred, you don't even have to respond directly. You can always tell an adult because they'll take care of it. But this time, between you and me, I think that rude little punk does need a lesson to be served."

Lillian clamped a hand over her mouth and giggled. "I can't wait to tell Alexa. She'll be so happy."

With that, the little girl waved at me (and at Not-Neel as well, which kind of irked me, and I shot him a look (which he was not supposed to notice but he did) to which he shrugged like How can I help that everyone likes me? which only served to irk me even more) and set off down a small path just past the side of the road. We waved until she disappeared around the corner.

I turned back to Mr Not-Neel, and I sighed. "You know what, Mr Not-Neel, let's just forget that anything ever happened. What do you say?"

He slowly nodded. "If that's what you want."

"Yes please," I said in a hurry, and he chuckled. I wondered what was so amusing before crossing my arms and turning away from him, looking down the road for any sign of the bus.

"But Miss Almond," he then piped up, "You can't ask to forget everything and not talk it out but still be mad about it."

I turned back to him annoyedly, to which he raised an eyebrow as if to say, See?

I paused, frowning. "You're right. But forgetting can help, I don't know, stew down the irritation, you know? I'm only human."

"And so am I," he replied swiftly. "Mistakes happen, and they happened, maybe irritatingly too many times today." He then held my gaze and slightly leaned in. "Will you let me buy you your bus ticket? As some sort of...reparation?"

My initial reaction was to refuse. But deep down I appreciated his efforts, and I wouldn't say no to free money, so I shrugged hesitantly. "If you insist...well..."

"I do."

"Fine." I hated how awkward I was.

He titled his head slightly. "Is that a...yes?"

"Yes," I mumbled, looking away again, but not before catching his bright, victorious smile.

Just then, the bus finally rumbled up to the stop. I got onto it, walking to a seat near the middle. I sat down and watched as Mr Not-Neel got on after me, paying for my ticket as well. Maybe things weren't too bad and the rest of the day would go smoothly. It better be, because all there was left was a bus ride before I got to my safe haven. What could possibly go so wrong?

Mr Not-Neel took the seat right behind me, his knee jostling the back of my seat as he settled in. I was just planning to ignore it but he actually noticed it himself, and he gave me a look like, Oops, sorry. I just nodded politely, turning back to stare out the window, hoping it would be the end of it.

But then I felt another thud as Not-Neel seemed to be rummaging in something. I looked over my shoulder to see him rummaging through the inside of his jacket, struggling with something inside.

"Are you wrestling with a squirrel or something?" I blurted out, unable to hold back my curiosity.

He looked up and grinned sheepishly, still fumbling. "Or something. Actually, I was trying to...wait...there we go!" He triumphantly pulled out a slightly crumpled but still beautiful looking flower. He held it out to me, revealing the pretty gradient on the petals, and I gasped quietly. He smiled. "Peace offering?"

I blinked, momentarily taken aback. And despite myself, I felt a small smile tug at my lips. "Do you always just carry flowers around with you?"

Eyes still on mine, he shrugged nonchalantly. "You never know when you might need one. From what I've learned, a flower a day keeps irritation away." Then he paused. "Well, unless you're allergic to pollen or something. Then that would cause more irritation," he winced. His eyes widened. "You're not allergic, are you?"

I laughed and shook my head amusedly. "No."

I continued peering in awe at the pretty flower, marveling at its beauty, too busy to feel awkward when I noticed Mr Not-Neel watching me in amusement. But then I realized something.

"Wait, no, sorry," I gasped, leaning away. "Um, I don't think I should take it. In fact, you should probably put it back inside." I turned back around in my seat to face forward. I tried to sound polite but he still noticed my discomfort.

"Miss A.B.? What's wrong?" He leaned forward, resting his crossed arms on top of the seat beside mine. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and genuine concern, but all I could register was the flower still held loosely between his fingers. That's not all I noticed, however.

I also saw a little bumble bee buzzing near the window.

Cute!

NOT.

"Oh no, no no no, nononono," I whispered in horror. I shut my eyes, took a breath, and then opened them again, only to meet Not-Neel's worried expression.

"You know...the ice cream explosion? From before?" I started, and he nodded. "It's just that, I still smell kind of sweet. And now, with the flower here..."

"Both sweet scents," he finished. He turned to see what I was looking at, finally noticing the bee. "Well," he said, turning back to me, looking not even negative-two-percent panicked, "It's not that bad, is it? It won't hurt you unless you, like—"

I desperately swatted at the air near it, and Not-Neel grimaced. "Just what I was about to say."

I watched as the bee circled closer, intrigued by both the flower and the lingering smell of ice cream.

Not-Neel stretched from his seat, trying to wave it away with the flower, much to my horror. The bee, unimpressed, buzzed closer, and my panic rose like an escalator on steroids.

"Okay, take off your jacket, please," I told Not-Neel. Now equally panicked, he didn't hesitate to pull off his jacket and handed it to me, looking confused a few seconds later.

His face blanched as I tried to use his jacket to swat at the bee, but only succeeded in making it more agitated.

"Miss A.B., don't do that!" he uttered in disbelief. "Don't you study science or something?"

"What does that have to do with—"

"Hells, you're right. You don't even need to have a PhD in zoology to know what will or wouldn't provoke a bee. Miss Almond!"

"It's. Not. Miss. Almond!" I gritted out, punching the jacket in the air with every word.

He grabbed my arm gently, and I stopped in a panic. I realized then that we were having an audience. Thank goodness there were only a few people on the bus.

I collected my breath and thoughts, suddenly reeling at the strangeness of it all. "Dude," I said to Not-Neel in disbelief, "it's always you, isn't it?"

"What? I did not summon this bee—"

"Yes you did! Can I get a break, please? First my poor whipped cream, then the ice cream, and now a— a bumble bee, for goodness's sake!"

"Which is why I was trying to apologize. I hope you realize that these are all coincidences! I'm not walking around desperately hoping to be the superstitious black cat in your life."

"Buddy," I hissed, "I think it's a bit too late for that."

His eyes narrowed, and so did mine. It was then that I realized how close we were in the heat of the moment, and so I pulled away.

I sucked in a breath. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say all that, Not-Neel. You're right. We're strangers- strangers! I won't see you again, you won't see me, yet- Holy corn nuts!"

"You mean Holy Almonds—"

"You know what, I'm done." I muttered mostly to myself. I jumped out of my seat, nearly colliding with Not-Neel. "This isn't how all of this was supposed to go."

The bus driver glanced back, confused by the commotion. The other passengers watched on, to my suprise looking mostly amused. Oh right, these were my new guitar-skillz fans. What a horrible example I was.

Ugh.

The annoying bee continued it's relentless pursuit, and I finally lunged for the bell, ringing it insistently. "Stop the bus! I need to get off!"

"Is this even anywhere near your stop?" Not-Neel asked in confusion.

"Not even halfway," I replied miserably, sighing. "Thanks for the ticket, though."

The driver pulled over on the side of the road, and I practically leaped out, sprinting like Usain Bolt down the steps. Suddenly I was a track-and-field gold medalist, it seemed.

The driver kept the bus parked for a minute to take a break and drink some water as I stood on the sidewalk, trying to catch my breath. Was my situation that exhausting to not only me, but also to others as well? This is exactly why I never got involved with anything. Keep to yourself, and unwanted problems will keep to themselves.

Then, to my surprise, I saw Not-Neel stick his head out one of the windows.

I rested my hands on my hips. "Next time, just stick to a handshake to make up, yeah?"

Not-Neel stuck his hand out in an air-handshake as the bus slowly started to pull away. "Peace?" A teasing smirk adorned his lips.

I thought of my butchered hot chocolate, the ice cream fiasco, and the stubborn bumble bee, and I shuddered. I heard Not-Neel laugh, and I rolled my eyes.

"No way, Not-Neel," I called back as I turned around and walked, the bus pulling in the opposite direction. "The irritation is still simmering."

"I can tell," he called to me, and I pretended to block my ears as I walked on. I imagined his smirk and rolled my eyes again. What a guy.

I would like to proudly - and sorely- mention here that I walked all the way back home (using, like, Google Maps, but still). So when I tiredly rang the doorbell and Aunt Cheryl opened the door, I practically fell in her arms dramatically, proceeding to tell her, in exquisite detail, everything that happened.

"And this is why I stay inside like a good child," I concluded, shaking my head. "It's Cora Turwal's killer instinct, you know."

Aunt Cheryl just laughed. "This is good for you, Cora. Tell me, didn't you have even the tiniest bit of fun?"

I thought of Not-Neel then, and his dark eyes and the amused curve to his lips came to mind. "Nope, nuh-uh," I said stubbornly as I walked up the stairs, ready to go take a shower.

"Really? Positively?"

"Yes, really, positively," I called back. I reimagined the ice cream sliding down my arms and I ran up the stairs faster to my room.

In the shower, all I could think about was how hectic my day was...and the person behind most of it.

I didn't even know his name, but I couldn't help but wonder if he lived daily like that: all energetic, adventurous, a troublemaker and trouble magnet. Was it not tiring?

Or maybe that was the norm, and I just got tired because I wasn't used to all the chaos. But then what did that say about me? I suddenly wondered: was I too much of an indoor-centric homebody?

I lathered shampoo into my hair, noticing the 'plain soap' label on the bottle. 'A soft, almost imperceptible scent that is charmingly traditional', it read. What a way to glamorize it; I gave them a point for excellent advertising. But it didn't make the actual shampoo formula fancier. I'd heard of bergamot and patchouli and even hibiscus infused shampoos but I'd never tried them. I mean, sure, this was so...insignificant in the grand scheme of hair products and personality types and all things personal, but it felt monumental to me as I read the ingredients list out of habit.

Wow.

I was kind of like the plain soap shampoo, wasn't I? And it seemed that Not-Neel was kind of like the hibiscus and patchouli infused one.

This reminded me of how, when Jolene and I got introduced to each other and were talking about life, I couldn't help but think that her day-to-day was a high-action/comedy/fantasy/thriller and I was a New-Little-Reader book on wild mushrooms or something (those were my exact thoughts down to the very word).

This was two people in a row who made me think about how maybe I was too deep in my comfort zone, and I found it concerning that I'd never even noticed these things before. It was slightly depressing, in all honesty.

Clearing my thoughts, I finished up everything, drying down and getting dressed, and then I finally stepped out of the bathroom whilst drying my hair with a towel.

Just then, the doorbell rang. "Someone's at the door," I called down the stairs, waiting at the top of the staircase, but there was no response.

Sighing, I quickly ran by my room to throw my towel across the drying rack, and then I trudged down the stairs, hoping that maybe Aunt Cheryl would come any second and open it anyway (yeah, I was like that). But she didn't appear around the corner like I'd imagined, so I hurried to the door and unlocked it, tugging it open.

"Sorry I left the keys here by—" The person standing there started, and then froze.

I froze too.

There stood before me a not-so-stranger with familiar dark eyes, and my jaw just about dropped as he stared back at me, stunned, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Are you, like, stalking me or something?"

__

A/N: 

There's only 2 types of people in the world: those who are scared of bees and those who aren't...🐝

P.S. That voting star looks prettier when it's glowing (¬ ₃ ͡¬)