DESIRÉE || NOT REALLY FRIENDS.

"Could we talk for a second?"

Now that he stood so near and my vision was no longer clouded by boiling anger, I began to understand why Abigail would claim he was every girl's type. With the top buttons of his shirt undone, his athletic chest was on full display, a hint of hair peeking through. His tousled dark hair elevated that rugged yet effortless charm to an entirely new level, framing his handsome features.

He leaned casually against the counter.

"Desire, right? I'm Alessio." He extended his hand for a shake, his wrist adorned with an expensive-looking watch that likely cost two years of my salary from the café.

"I didn't ask. But I do care how you pronounce mine. It's 'Deserayy' with an accent. If you can't spell it, don't bother saying it."

He scoffed, muttering something under his breath. "They did mention you bite."

"What was that?"

"Desirée!" Abigail interjected sharply, pulling me closer over the counter so her lips were near my ear as she whispered. "I'm cashing in the countless favors I've done for you right now! Tone down the black girl sass and be extra nice to him, or I'll spill to your mom about how her perfect daughter flunked a course in her first year of college!"

"Ain't no way you're that desperate!"

"Try me!" She shot me a warning look, then smiled brightly at Alessio as she walked out of the café, not even bothering to pay for her bagel.

"Look," Alessio began. "I'm really sorry about earlier. I wasn't, umm... I wasn't in the best headspace this morning."

I let out a snort. "Had too much to drink last night?" I moved over to a regular customer who had just arrived, preparing his usual order. That's when Clara approached Alessio, and they started to whisper to each other. I couldn't catch what they were saying, and I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, but it seemed to revolve around Alessio avoiding her on campus and her not receiving another invite to his ... tub?

No, she said club.

"Hello? My straw? For the milkshake?"

"Oh, sorry, Gabe."

Clara burst into the kitchen, pulling Alessio's attention back to me.

"Yeah, I suppose I might have had a bit too much last night," he admitted.

"Listen, Armando. Unless you're placing an order -"

"It's Alessio."

"Great. Now you know how I feel. And unless you're here to buy something, I don't think we have anything to discuss."

He then grabbed two packs of Golden Oreos from the snack case, kept one in his pocket, and set a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. "So, did Mr. Evans give you a second chance?" he asked as I placed his change on the second Oreo he hadn't taken.

"And if he didn't, what do you plan to do about it?"

He chuckled softly, causing my heart to skip a beat for a brief second there. His gaze lingered on me for a moment before he slipped his hands into his pockets and began to walk away.

"You're just going to leave your Oreos and change here? Don't expect me to hunt you down and hand them over if that's the idea!"

The bell above the door jingled as he stepped outside. "This isn't some Bollywood romance. Your Oreos and money are mine." I immediately dug into the snack, slipping his change into my jeans pocket.

Clara stormed out just seconds later, calling out Alessio's name as she rushed through the door.

How pathetic, I thought, relieved that I would never be like Clara again, desperately seeking a man's attention.

Minus the part where I literally chased after that jerk this morning over some stupid papers, of course.

...✍︎

It was 10:19 PM by the time I finally locked up, letting out a deep sigh as I felt utterly drained.

I was meant to close up an hour ago, but of course, a genius had strolled in earlier this evening, ordered our Deluxe, and then had the delightful realization that his wallet was nowhere to be found. So, with our dishwasher broken, I had to watch this guy manually wash all the dishes before I could leave. And no, I wasn't paid for the extra hours.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

It was an incoming call from my blockheaded younger brother, Jason.

"Yeah?"

"Would it kill you to answer my calls with a simple hello instead of that irritated 'yeah' or 'what?'"

"Not my fault you always call at a bad time. What do you want?"

He sighed. "Love you too, 𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦. Are you coming home or not? I'm sitting here, staring at your cold dinner, and I'm about to eat it."
He was talking about my usual weekend visits.

Ever since my mom got transferred from the hospital she worked at in LA and moved to Baton Rouge two years ago, I've been trying to stay close, to keep our bond strong by visiting on weekends. It's especially important now that Jason's in high school and needs all the guidance he can get. The idiot's always threatening to start a family at 17 whenever he wants something, and he's not getting it.

"Baked salmon again?" I asked, already feeling a bit tired of the same meal on Fridays.

"Yep, with roasted veggies."

"You can have it, J. I'll grab something on my way home."

"Pfft. Like I need your permission to eat your dinner.."

I hung up and headed towards the only supermarket close by that was still open at this hour. The street there was deserted - no people, no cabs. There was just one dim streetlamp, casting long, eerie shadows. I hated this part of the city.

I practically run inside the grocery store.

Inside was eerily quiet. No customers, just the hum of the freezers and some muffled music coming from the checkout counter.

The cashier was completely engrossed in her own world. She had earbuds in, bobbing her head to the beat while slouched in her chair.

"Hello?" I cleared my throat.

"Yeah?" she responded immediately.

"Do you have Tyson Chicken Strips here?"

"Aisle 4," she pointed to my left.

I grabbed three packs and headed back to the checkout counter. A guy was standing there, laughing loudly. He had his back to me as I slowly approached. When I got closer, I noticed who it was.

"You?"

Alessio turned around, then flashed a grin. "Her Royal Feistiness," he said with that annoying, slight bow. "Glad to see you too."

"Are you following me?"

He chuckled, that deep, rumbling chuckle that had my heart skipping beats again.
"Maybe you wish I was, but I was already here; at the pet food section. I saw you walk in."

"Then where's the pet food you bought then? I don't see it."

"We're all out of fish food," the cashier interrupted.

Ignoring Alessio and his intense gaze, I paid for my chicken strips, feeling a hint of embarrassment, and then left the store.

Once outside, the single faint streetlight seemed even dimmer than usual. Across the street, not far from the entrance of the shop where I remained frozen, I spotted a dark car parked.

It looked like no one was in it, but I couldn't really tell.

"Need a ride?" Alessio's sudden voice behind me startled me so much that I involuntarily peed myself. I was absolutely terrified.

"No!" I sharply declined, observing as the tall guy remained silent, crossed the street, and headed towards the car.

However, he paused halfway, turned back to face me, and spoke.

"Just so you know, I was once attacked at the very spot where you stand." He nodded when my eyes grew wide. "Yep," he continued, a faint smile playing on his lips. "It happened exactly five nights ago, at this same time. There were two of them, shorter than me, but they still managed to overpower me. Pepper spray. It hurt like fucking hell. Those jerks took my phone and the fish flakes I had," he chuckled to himself. "But I have a feeling... they might go easy on you. Perhaps they won't even use the pepper spray on you. Maybe... maybe they'll just... yell at you instead. Yeah..."

He paused for a while, the silence so loud.
"Good luck then." He walked to his car.

Right then, I thought I heard footsteps approaching from behind, and like a lightning bolt, I found myself next to the car. Alessio was already seated in the driver's seat, looking up at me with an expression that conveyed his amusement at the situation.

"I'll ride in your car on one condition."

His eyebrow went up, a smirk on his lips.
"Sure, I'll pretend like I'm the desperate one. What is it, Your Feistiness?"