JINXED |

Chapter One: Diner Blues

The neon diner sign buzzed, casting a dull red glow over the cracked sidewalk. "Aunt Pam's Southern Eatery" is what the bright sign reads. Jinx tugged her hood lower as she slipped into a booth by the window, her gaze darting from one tired face to the next. She looked outside, at the intersection, and down each of the four roads that separated it. Jinx watched the people as they walked idly by, but she paid attention to their faces. She was always on watch, for she knew she was never safe. The diner had its usual lineup of late-night regulars—construction workers nursing cold coffee, a tired cook at the grill, and a waitress jotting orders on a dog-eared notepad.

Jinx wasn't supposed to be out here. Dre had told her to lie low, especially with the gang heat cranking up, but she needed to clear her head. She told herself she'd just have a coffee and dip, yet part of her itched for the tension of being somewhere she shouldn't be. It was like she was testing herself, daring fate to come at her. Attached to her hip, underneath the Polo Boxers waistband was her semi-automatic, the coolness of the metal now warm against her skin from having it with her all day; but it gave her a sense of security.

A soft cough snapped her out of her thoughts, drawing her gaze across the booth. That's when she saw her.

The girl sat alone, curled up with a book under the diner's faint glow. Her dark curls framed a soft, thoughtful expression, and she looked out of place, like she'd wandered in from a dream. She wasn't trying to be seen, but Jinx couldn't look away. It was as if the girl had pulled her into some hidden corner of the world where nothing else mattered.

She must've stared too long because the girl glanced up, meeting her gaze. Jinx half-expected her to flinch or look away, but instead, the girl just gave a small, quiet smile that made Jinx's heart skip a beat. Before she knew it, she was sliding out of her booth and heading over.

"Mind if I sit?" Jinx asked, her voice steadier than she felt. She always had this allure to her, the air of nonchalance mixed with confidence that allured other women.

The girl studied her for a second, then nodded. "Go ahead." The girl noticed how Jinx's posture was straight, shoulders back. She smelled good. Of something expensive, though Jinx was only dressed for the weather. Dressed in a black Prada puffer, a black tight fitting t-shirt, black stacked jeans, and some sort of Yeezy shoes that the girl couldn't quite recognize.

Jinx settled in across from her, feeling awkward and strangely exposed. It wasn't like her to be nervous, but something about this girl felt... different. She had a calmness, like she belonged somewhere far from the noise in Jinx's head. A girl like that didn't belong in Jinx's life.

"I'm Jinx," she said finally with a smile, flashing a golden smile that reflected off of the subtle lights of the diner, watching for the girl's reaction.

The girl raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "Jinx?"

Jinx shrugged, giving her the half-smirk she usually threw around to brush things off. "Just a name. And you?"

"Amara." Her voice was soft, yet it carried. She extended her hand, and Jinx shook it, feeling the warmth of her touch linger. Even her hands were beautiful, supple with long pink and white nails. Amara smiled back, revealing two dimples in the centers of her cheeks.

"What brings you here so late?" Jinx asked, trying to keep things casual.

"Could ask you the same thing," Amara replied with a slight smile. Her gaze drifted to the window, where a streetlight buzzed outside.

Jinx felt the weight of the question, but she wasn't about to spill her thoughts to a stranger. She was used to carrying her secrets like scars, wearing them beneath her skin where no one could see. "Couldn't sleep," she said simply.

"Same," Amara replied, something sad crossing her face before she hid it behind a smile. "Sometimes this is the only place that feels real, you know?"

Jinx nodded, though she wasn't sure she understood. But there was something in Amara's voice that struck her. They fell silent, a comfortable yet charged quiet. Jinx found herself studying Amara's face, drawn to the shadows in her expression.

"What about you?" Jinx asked. "You don't look like you're from around here."

Amara let out a soft laugh. "And what does 'here' look like?"

"Rough edges, no breaks, no way out," Jinx said, the words coming before she could hold them back. "Most people here... they're just surviving."

Amara tilted her head thoughtfully. "Maybe some of us are surviving, but that doesn't mean we can't dream about something better."

The words struck a chord Jinx had buried deep. She didn't dream anymore; she couldn't afford to. Yet, for a moment, she let herself wonder what it would feel like to want something beyond this life. She glanced away, uncomfortable with the rawness rising up inside her.

"What's your dream?" she asked, almost challenging her.

Amara looked out the window, her face distant. "To be somewhere else... somewhere safe."

"Safe?" Jinx scoffed, more out of habit than belief. "Nowhere's safe."

Amara's gaze flickered back to her, calm and steady. "Maybe. But I like to think it's possible. Even here, if you look hard enough."

Jinx felt a strange, twisting ache in her chest at the words. She didn't know why, but Amara's quiet hope unsettled her. It was like this girl could see something in her that she couldn't see herself. Part of her wanted to push Amara away, yet another part felt drawn to her like a lifeline.

"Do you come here often?" Jinx asked, trying to shake off the heaviness.

Amara smiled faintly. "Sometimes. When I need a break."

Jinx nodded, feeling that weight settling back over her. This girl, this stranger—she was a glimpse of something Jinx hadn't realized she was missing. The silence between them grew heavy again, filled with things unsaid, until Amara checked her watch with a sad little sigh.

"I should go," she murmured, gathering her things.

Jinx felt a strange surge of panic, like the night would swallow her whole once Amara left. "I wanna see you again. Can I? Here's my number.." Quickly but with a steadiness, wrote her number on a napkin and handed it to Amara.

Amara studied her with that knowing look, like she already had the answer. "Maybe. If you're lucky." She said with a smile matter of factly, before gently taking the napkin and folding it in her book.

With that, she slipped out of the booth, her silhouette fading into the night. Jinx watched her go, a strange emptiness filling the space she'd left behind.

As she finally pushed herself to leave, the waitress shot her a funny look. "You alright, hon? Lookin' like you just saw a ghost."

Jinx smirked, brushing it off. "Yeah... just a long night."

The waitress gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning away. Jinx stayed in the booth a moment longer, wondering what she'd just felt, wondering if she'd ever see Amara again. But in the back of her mind, something told her she wouldn't be able to forget her.

The night felt colder when Jinx finally stepped back out into it, but the memory of Amara lingered, filling the silence with a warmth she couldn't shake.