To Be Or Not To Be

Chapter 16

Isla's POV

After school, I found myself walking the same streets I wandered just a few days ago, my feet seemingly guiding me without conscious thought. My mind was a whirl of schoolwork and scattered thoughts about friends, but mostly about that unexpected meeting with Ali. The quaint coffee shop where I'd first seen him came into view, its warm glow inviting me from the chill of the early evening.

I hesitated at the door, my hand hovering over the handle. Did I really want to go in? The last time I was here, seeing Ali had thrown my thoughts into a tailspin, and part of me wondered if it might happen again. After a brief moment, curiosity won out, and I pushed the door open, the familiar jingle of the bell greeting me.

Stepping inside, the rich scent of brewed coffee and pastries filled my senses. I scanned the cozy, bustling space, half hoping, half fearing I might spot Ali. Its as if Fate herself came knocking at my door because there he was—sitting at a corner table, looking pensively down at his cup, lost in thought.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched him, the memories of our last brief encounter flooding back. It felt like fate, this unintentional but fortuitous timing that brought us both here again. For a moment, I stood frozen near the entrance, debating what to do next.

I could quietly run away, he wouldn't even notice. But then again he just looks so sad sitting there all alone.

Should I really go over there? What if it made things even more complicated? But then, I remembered the curious spark in Ali's eyes the last time we met, and the way our brief conversation had left me with more questions than answers.

As I walk towards the front passing his table I see his eyes flicker up, but not before i notice the dark coffee sitting untouched at the table.

dark coffee?? 

really, at this age? this weirdo I think to myself, unable to suppress a slight chuckle. It's an odd choice for someone so young, a bit too intense and somber.

With a quick, somewhat nervous smile at Ali, which he returns with a tight-lipped and polite expression, I turn to place my order. "An Oreo milkshake, please," I tell the barista. As I wait, my eyes wander to the array of drinks displayed on the menu, and a bright, colorful strawberry smoothie catches my eye. It looks delicious, and a spontaneous idea pops into my head.

Since Ali's coffee is just sitting there, probably growing bitter by the minute, why not buy him something a bit more refreshing? It's a bold move, sure, but I feel a rush of daring. If he doesn't want it, I wouldn't mind enjoying both, I muse silently.

"Actually, can I also get a strawberry smoothie aswell?" I add, deciding on the spot.

The barista nods, punching in my order, and I glance back at Ali, wondering how he'll react to this unexpected gesture. It's definitely risky—maybe even a bit forward—but something about today makes me want to step out of my comfort zone, to break the usual patterns.

As I pick up both drinks, balancing them carefully, I head back toward Ali's table. My heart races with a mix of excitement and anxiety. This small act of buying him a drink feels surprisingly significant, a tiny adventure in the monotony of daily routines.

"Hey, I thought you might like something a bit cooler," I say as I approach, offering him the smoothie with a hopeful smile. His surprised look makes me add quickly, "No worries if you don't want it, I just thought it looked good."

This moment, standing there with a milkshake and smoothie in hand, feels strangely pivotal. I'm not just offering a drink; I'm extending a gesture of kindness, perhaps even a tentative olive branch towards whatever might be brewing between us. Whether he accepts it or not, I've made a move that breaks away from my usual cautious self, and it feels liberating.