The Candace Clique

Chapter Six

Aiden stood from his seat, walking over to the other side of the table and pulling out the chair for Candace to sit in. Candace flushed, smiling a thank you at the boy across the table. He bit his lip, which occurred to Candace was now a habit, “If you don’t mind, I already bought you something,” he waved his hand down the two mugs of coffee and a tray of muffins.

“No, no,” she smiled gratefully, “not at all.” She took a muffin and placed it into an expensive looking china plate, pinching the edge of the muffin and popping it into her mouth.

He smiled, showing off dimples then shook his head, cupping the mug of coffee in his hands and drank from it. Candace raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips, “What?”

Aiden shook his head, “I feel like...I’ve known you forever.”

Cliche, she thought but decided against it, “Oh?”

“Tell me something about yourself.”

She let out a strangled breath, “I’m Candace Lowe and I study at Bentley High—”

“Lowe?” Aiden interrupted, placing his mug down on the coaster, his eyes in pure amazement, “like Margaret Lowe?”

The girl slumped on her seat, blowing an exasperated air from her mouth, “Yes,” she hissed, “I’m Margaret Lowe’s daughter.”

Aiden gave her a quizzical look, almost like sensing her annoyance, “You don’t like you mom?”

“Not,” she pinched another muffin, “one,” she popped it into her mouth, “bit.”

He looked surprised, “Why?”

“Can we not talk about her?”

“I’m sorry.”

“So,” Aiden folded his hands on the table, his green eyes hooded, “when did you discover your thing for art?”

Candace straightened up, her tensed up shoulders relaxing, “I was out in our garden one day when I was six,” she cited, remembering just how magical that day was for her, “it was my first time out of the house actually,” she chuckled, looking straight at Aiden who seemed to be at ease with what she was telling him, “when I saw the garden I just thought that I had to make this last. I had to make the magic last.”

“And?” he urged on, the tension from the previous conversation a while ago long gone.

The blonde girl laughed at the boy’s eagerness, “And then I ran back inside the house, got one of my mom’s papers and drew on it,” she smiled because she knew that was the start of when her mom appraised her, “and when Mum saw it, she framed it.”

“I really want to see more of your work,” he chimed in, biting into a muffin with a smile.

Candace smiled, “You will,” she took a sip of her coffee, letting it burn her tongue, “with one condition.”

Aiden nodded, urging her to continue.

“Tell me something about yourself.”

He smiled, “So the cards had been turned,” he chuckled, folding his arms on the table and placing his chin on both his clasped hands, “there’s nothing much about me.”

“But I’m sure you’re not all that boring,” she countered, smirking.

He shrugged as if to say What could hurt?, “I’m Aiden Garcia,” he paused, knowing that Candace already probably knew that, “and I’m in a local band that gets to be heard by no less than five thousand.”

“Garcia...” Candace tried the surname on her tongue, “that sounds Spanish.”

Aiden smiled again before biting his lip, “Yes, my Dad’s Spanish.”