chapter Six - Shadows of Destiny

Amara washed her hands briefly. "Hey I've clocked out for break for an hour," she said to Don.

He gave her a nod. "Don't forget for too long, alright?"

She rolled her eyes with a smile. "I will watch the time."

"Hey," Milo said genially as he strolled in from the front, picking up some more deliveries. "There's some shady character with a backpack out back."

Amara elbowed him. "Be nice." Their back door wasn't exactly unknown to the neighborhood, although it was likely Declan he was talking about.

"Well he wasn't exactly kind in return, you know!" Milo returned, offended.

She wasn't sure if he actually was serious or not. "Oh?"

"Yeah; I yelled at him, and he yelled right back."

Amara pursed her lips, relaxing again. "Well duh; everyone yells at you."

"Only because everybody wants me." He sang the last bit a little and grinned at her as he picked up the boxes to go.

Amara would have shoved him if he hadn't been holding the boxes, and she knew he knew it. She rolled her eyes. "Yes, to leave them alone. Now get going!" She shooed him as she went in the other direction. She heard the door swing as he left, and she put her apron up. She wished she had time to change, but could deal with the discontent. She wondered what kind of chicken Declan had made. He'd said he was a cook, but he didn't look old enough to have graduated already. Whether or not he had lied, if he attended culinary school at all, it should be good. Hopefully. He could have just been trying to impress her. Which wasn't a bad thing. She hoped he actually did know how to cook, though. She opened the green door at the back—

A few swears and a falling body interrupted her thoughts. "Excuse me!"

She froze as the body caught itself, and quickly stood up again. Declan. He had been leaning on the door. He held a large backpack somewhat awkwardly, as if he'd just caught it.

"Ah, hello. Hi." He grinned, switching to Arabic.

She laughed.

"You look lovely."

She grinned dubiously. "Well thank you. It's called 'post-work power-break.'" She flourished her hand to flour on her jeans. "It will get another coating in an hour or so."

Declan laughed, readjusting his grip on the backpack and nodding. "Perfect."

"Say no to strangers, Amara!" Milo called in French from across the street.

"Get back to work, Milo!" Amara yelled at him in French.

"I can multi-task."

"Liar!"

"You're one to talk!"

"I'm on break!" She smiled apologetically at Declan as Milo disappeared. "Sorry about him," she said, switching to Arabic again. "He's… got no excuse."

"Is he…?" Declan started asking.

"My cousin," Amara finished.

"Ah. Is he one that speaks Arabic?"

"No. They're younger, and don't know much. Aren't really interested in anything except some swears, either." She chuckled. "Anyway, what's in the backpack?"

"Glorious flavors the like of which you've never tasted before," he said dramatically.

"… It's chicken, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, but I've cooked it to perfection," he said with a smile. "And added my own blend of spices."

Amara raised both eyebrows. "Oh?"

He nodded as he carefully put the backpack on. "You need to taste it. Where can we eat? How long do you have?"

She motioned for him to follow her. "There are some benches over this way, and tables. I've got an hour."

"Fantastic."

Soon enough, she directed them to a table in a small plaza. The surrounding benches weren't terribly full, but it was still early-ish. Most people ate inside or near the restaurants or cafes they ordered at at this time.

Declan gave a quick glance around, as if analyzing something, before setting the backpack down. It sounded heavy. She wondered what he had packed, but she didn't have long to wait. He took out a loaf of bread, then a medium sized cooler bag, and another. Opening the first, he took out some bowls, ceramic, and actual silverware, not plastic. Even the cups he took out were actual glasses.

She looked at him questioningly. He didn't appear to notice as he continued unpacking, but then said, "Good food deserves to be enjoyed properly." He unpacked the second container of juice, a bowl of hummus, another loaf of bread, and a casserole-looking dish with a lid.

"The chicken, I presume?" she asked, gesturing at the last dish.

He nodded, watching her now. "Chicken maLeylaa."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?" The French side of her family wasn't really into spicy food. Aunt Seraphina's kids and herself made some occasionally, but not often enough in Amara's opinion.

Declan took the lid off the dish in response. She saw the sauce, the chunks of chicken, some veggies, the rosy color of everything. It looked fantastic. He dished up their bowls, and the scent wafting up made her mouth water. He gave her a bowl with a grin. She could feel the warmth of the food through the bowl. Had he just made it? Microwaves didn't keep heat like this, even in insulated dishes. She stared at the beautiful concoction in her hands for a few moments, then blinked and remembered where she was. She looked at Declan, who was grinning very broadly. She pursed her lips, not really hiding a smile. "What?"

"Nothing. Bon appetit." He raised a glass of juice, which he must have poured while she was distracted.

She smiled more confidently at him. "We'll find out." She took a bite.

Savory, spiced, the sauce was a joy to her mouth. The chicken with it was tender and wonderful, and accented with flavors beautifully. She wasn't a food critic by any means, but she knew great food when she had it. She wanted to comment on it, but couldn't bring herself to open her mouth and stop chewing. The spices were strong and her nose was already feeling it, but she reveled in it. She swallowed and took another bite.

After a few more bites, her eyes were watering. Had it really been so long since she'd had really spicy food? She reluctantly put the bowl down and took a drink. It calmed somewhat. She stared at the bowl, wanting more, unsure if she could without something to mellow it out. The fire was only growing.

Declan hesitantly offered her some bread. She glanced at him. He looked like he was seriously concerned; and curious. Was he… testing her?

Amara narrowed her eyes and ignored the bread. She took up the bowl again and took an extra large bite, deliberately. It was glorious, wonderfully put together; and rather quickly, too much. She hastily chewed and swallowed, and coughed as she did so. She snatched the bread and stuffed some in her mouth. She located the hummus and generously swabbed more bread in it, then stuffed it in as well.

Declan was saying something, which she finally tuned into. "…have warned you. I put extra spices in. It was going to be for others but you deserved it more. Not the spices, the food. I made all of it. Here."

Amara swallowed, the fire in her mouth at least under control now, and shot a brief glare at him. "Next time, warn me before you try to kill me!" She restrained a smile.

"Was it that bad?" He looked sincerely distressed.

Apparently she showed anger too well. She softened. "No. It was amazing." She coughed. "Which was what made it all the harder not to stuff my face!" She smiled at him and laughed a little, though it turned into a cough. She cleared her throat, still smiling.

Relief and pride flooded over his face, relaxing his whole body, which she hadn't noticed was tense. "Oh. Good."

"And it still is amazing," she said. "Just not all at once."

He smiled at her. "I told you it was, didn't I?"

She scoffed as she took another bite of bread with hummus. "You made it all?"

"Well, not the bread, not today. But the chicken maLeylaa and hummus yes. And not the juice. But yes. I made them."

Amara nodded and sighed as she could finally look at the maLeylaa again. "It is very, very good. Just… a tad less spices next time, I'd say."

"Just a tad?"

"MaLeylaa is meant to have a kick of some kind," Amara said with a smile as she took another bite of the dish, this time with some bread.

Declan's grin grew. "Yes. Yes it is."

She swallowed. "Do you always make it like this?"

Declan shook his head. "No. But I was going to share it with others who aren't used to spices much at all I imagine, and wanted to give them a surprise. But surprising you was a better idea. I think." He looked at her hopefully.

He reminded her of a dog that knew he'd done something questionable but wanted approval anyway. She couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes. It was." She glanced at the hummus, then flicked a little at him before she could think better of it.

He almost jumped, startled when it hit his cheek. "H-hey!"

She grinned. "Vindication."

He grinned back at her. "Assassin."

She raised her eyebrows in an accepting manner. "I think I could pull it off." She took another bite of bread.

"Mmm," he agreed, watching her.

She swallowed. "You still have that on your face, you know."

"What?" he asked. He felt his cheek, then quickly swiped the hummus off and into his mouth. "Ah, yes. Deliciously so."

She grinned at him, about to agree, when she coughed a little again and went back to her juice, hoping the red in her face from the spices hid her blush. "So. How long do you have here? I take it if you're not taking classes, you're doing something else? Experimenting with foods, perhaps?"

Declan smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "Somewhat, here and there. Mostly helping my dad and making food for people. Because shared food is the best kind of food."

She nodded. "Do you always do spicy food? Because that might be a bit hard to share around here."

Declan shook his head. "No, but it isn't as hard as you might think. Lyon is the best place in France to be a chef, to learn, to talk to other chefs. But I like sharing my food with other people as well. And I make all sorts of things, including sweets. Those always go over well." He smiled. "I'll have to share some with you sometime."

Amara smiled back. "I'd like that. But I'll have to keep them secret from my cousins, unless you just make enough for us to eat in one sitting."

Declan blinked. "Ahm. Yes. I— Right. What were we talking about?"

Amara giggled. "Food. And cousins. Do you have any?"

"Somewhat. Not really. Don't really know anything about my mom's family, she didn't tell us anything and she wasn't ever in contact with them. I have a crazy aunt, though."

She laughed. "I can understand that. You have siblings though, right?"

Declan nodded, and opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

"Yes, right, sorry. I remember now. Brother who is now married. And… yeah." She looked to the side awkwardly, wanting to avoid bringing up his sister who had died. Again. "You say your mom didn't say much?"

"Yeah. She died before Remy, my sister. A while before."

Amara swore to herself. She closed her eyes and put a hand on her face. "I'm sorry. I'm really not good at this. I mean, I am, but too much, obviously. I mean, I don't mean to…" She trailed off and softly chuckled, then shook her head.

Declan shook his own head, which she caught a glimpse of when she opened her eyes. "No! No, it is fine. I like talking with you, whatever it is about. I'm glad I can talk to you, and I will gladly talk about my family. If you want to hear about them."

Amara sighed. "I don't want to pressure you. Really. You can talk about them whenever you want to, whenever you're ready." That last part sounded… expectant. She pursed her lips. "I mean when it is fine for you. Or… You know what? I'm just going to stop talking and let you talk about whatever. I will be quiet." She lifted her hands in defeat.

"But I like hearing your voice," Declan protested immediately. He then followed up meekly, "Though I will talk if you want to eat more." Less than a second later, he continued, "I mean if you can take more maLeylaa. I have more hummus if you need. I forgot about the spices again."

She glanced at his bowl, which was untouched. "Well if you would take a bite of your own cooking, you wouldn't have nearly as many problems forgetting." She smirked.

He followed her gaze, then smiled. "Yes, of course." He took his bowl, and a large bite. He closed his eyes in bliss, although she was sure in at least some restraint of tears as well. "Perfect," he said after swallowing.

She rolled her eyes, and took hold of the hummus.

He opened his eyes took another bite. Then another. Half-way through, he reached for the hummus.

Amara grinned and pulled it out of his reach. He blinked and tried again. She withdrew it further.

He swallowed, and half-smiled as he continued extending his arm. "Amara?"

"Go on," she said nonchalantly. "Continue eating your handiwork."

"I made the hummus too."

"So you did." She swiped a finger in the hummus and ate it. "Mmm; tasty."

"Amara," he said, tears starting to show a little, though he was still grinning. "Hand over the hummus."

"You've got bread," she defended.

"And you've got the hummus. Bread and hummus go together."

"So they can. You're lucky I didn't snag that as well then."

He laughed. "Thief! I will have my hummus!"

Amara was up with the hummus in hand, grinning. "Oh really?"

He stood up as well, smile on his face. "Yes, really."

They both feinted either direction, neither actually going anywhere. Then Declan lunged around to the right, but Amara dashed out of reach, circling the table. Declan followed, then they both paused, at opposite corners. They went the other direction briefly, and then Declan tried reaching across the table. He almost got her, but she pulled back, and he almost landed on the food still there, but stopped himself.

"Amara! Really!"

She laughed in response. She knew they looked childish, but she didn't care. There wasn't anyone else sitting around anyway. Declan didn't care either, from his grin and the fact that he was still going along with it.

"You had your vindication!" he said, circling the table slowly.

"Not enough!" she replied, keeping pace. "You needed to feel the spices as well."

He was panting now. "I am! Now hand over the hummus and—"

She took a step back towards him and he lurched forward, but she had already danced ahead and was around again. She actually came behind him, overestimating how much he would move. He twirled around and caught her arms, up by her shoulders, and held her firmly.

"Ah-ha!"

Amara laughed, bright and full. "Alright! Alright, fine; you've won your hummus back." She held up the dish peaceably between them.

Declan still held her arms, looking at her, mouth partly open for the spicy heat he was trying to combat. Yet he didn't move.

They were nearly the same height, and Amara could look straight into his eyes. Her own heart started beating faster, even though she had calmed most of the spices in her own mouth. "… Declan?"

He hesitated for a split second, then reached over and stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth, a few tears coming down his face as he chewed. "Eh-wihon."

Amara blinked and laughed a little. "What?"

He swallowed and grinned as he swiped the remaining bread in the hummus, "I win." Then he plopped the hummus-laden piece in his mouth and closed his eyes in content relief.

Amara laughed again, and put the hummus against his arm still holding her. Reluctantly, his hand slid to the hummus and took it from her. She was very aware of when his hand left her. She sighed and returned to the table, brushing her short hair back with one hand. She glanced at her phone, at the time. "Ah. We should probably gather this up."

"Wh-uh?" Declan questioned through another mouthful.

Amara laughed. "I only have an hour. Remember?"

Disappointment flashed over his face, but he nodded. "Yes; I do."

They packed up easily enough, and started walking back.

"Thank you for spending your break with me," Declan said. "And eating wonderful food with me, even if it is a bit more difficult to have a lot of. It was still great food."

Amara snickered. "Yes, it was. Thank you for sharing it with me."

He beamed. "Always! Let me know if you ever want more. I could even give you leftovers of this, if you wanted—"

"No! No, I'm fine," Amara laughed. "I don't know where I'd keep it without someone else finding out why they need bread with it. Hm; actually, that could be entertaining…"

Declan grinned. "Do you want to?"

Amara smiled, but shook her head. "No; I don't want to make you unpack and repack things again."

"It wouldn't be a problem, really," Declan said, already beginning to take off the pack again.

"Declan, no, really," she protested.

"No, I mean it," Declan said.

Amara physically grabbed his backpack. "And so do I. It's fine. I've got to get back to work anyway."

They looked at each other for a few seconds, and he put the bag back on. "If you wish."

Amara chuckled. "Another time. Not right now. But thank you." Her phone buzzed with a text. She expected Milo's sass, and pursed her lips in anticipation. But it was from Shay.

'Club du Manchot has a gig Friday. You two in?'

Right, the whole going to a club with Declan plan. Amara smiled; Club du Manchot was usually pretty chill in terms of intensity. They had steady rhythms, restricted drug use, and areas that weren't always jam-packed with people. Drinking was occasionally a problem, but that was nothing new to clubs.

"Hey Declan; are you busy next Friday night?" Amara asked.

"No. Nope. I am not," he said quickly.

She grinned. "Great. Do you feel up for a party?"

"What kind?"

"There's a club that's hosting a dance party. One of my friends just told me about it. It's not anything too intense, the club is pretty good about regulating things. But it is crazy fun."

"Oh?" he said, eyebrows raising. "Alright. If you're going, yes. I would love to come."

Amara's grin grew. "Awesome! Shay will be there, my friend who told me about it." She glanced at the green door they were now standing at. "I'll tell you a bit about her later. Oh, and about parties in general, like how you should never leave your drink anywhere, no matter what it is. Actually, it's a good idea just to bring your own water, or buy a bottle and keep it with you." She started making a list in her mind of what she should tell him before-hand, while still trying to keep it open and exciting. "I'll text you later."

He nodded, and smiled. "It's a date."

She grinned. "Yes." She looked at his smiling face, and felt a surge of elation. She quickly glanced down, unable to stop smiling, then looked back up, happiness evident. "Definitely."

As he looked at her, Declan looked almost joyful as she felt.

She wanted to kiss him, even if just on the cheek. But-

… Glancing at his cheek, she saw a little of the hummus still there, somehow. Or maybe it was new? She scratched at the place on her own face. "Um, you've still… got a little…"

Declan took a second to respond, but then jumped into action and rubbed at his cheek. "Oh! Yes. Yes, I do. There. Not now. Thank you."

She giggled. "I will talk to you later." She waved at him, though she didn't move.

Declan nodded. "Yes." He didn't move either.

Amara rolled her lips, considering her earlier thought again. But only for a second. Then she turned away. "See you Declan."

A moment later, she heard him chuckle. "Yes."

She couldn't ignore the thrill that gave her. Hand on the doorknob, she paused and glanced back. He was already heading down the street, hair bouncing slightly with him. She smiled to herself, then went back in to work.

Declan waltzed into the house, hardly feeling the weight of the backpack.

"Have a good day?" Hugo asked, his pet chameleon Goonie perched on his shoulder.

"Yes. Wonderful, fantastic!" Declan replied, taking the backpack off with a flourish.

Hugo chuckled. "Did the spices go over well with your friend?"

Declan blinked. How did he know he hadn't taken the food to Dupont? Or the—

"Dupont told me you seemed in a rush since discovering he'd already gone home," Hugo said. "I had some of your leftovers, or attempted to, at least." He smiled.

Of course. Dupont and Hugo talked about everything. "Yes, splendidly so, after she stopped coughing."

"Really?" Hugo asked, intrigued. "And she didn't mind?"

"She threw some hummus at me," Declan said with a grin.

"When did you meet her?"

Declan paused, blinked. "Yesterday. Very early yesterday." Really? Amazing. And already she had such an effect on him. He smiled again. "Her name is Amara. Amara the beautiful and fabulous. Not really all of that, but it should be. She's Arabic. Her accent is gorgeous."

Hugo chuckled again. "I believe you have mentioned that." He gave Max a pat when she raised her head. "I'm glad. Seems to be a good time for friendships. Today..."

Declan tuned out, taking the dishes and thinking of Amara. They had a date, an official one. He could call their lunch today a date, and he would, and maybe even the drinks they'd gotten yesterday. But his would involve going someplace together, specifically, and dancing. Not really the kind of dancing he was used to, entirely, probably, but dancing. With Amara. And her friend; what had been her name? It didn't matter. There would be...

"Hey!" Declan blinked back to reality. "Things. Right. I'll do them."

"Good."

"Yes. Which ones again?"

His dad sighed good-naturedly. "First, you can find Ethan in the terrarium for me, make sure he's still there. Then help me get these addresses printed off."

Declan nodded as he took the tins to be put away in the kitchen. "Sure thing."

Now, the question was what to wear on Friday.