"Are you free tomorrow?"

Raivis catches the ping-pong ball before it can roll off the table, shaking his head in the process. "I have to practice for my violin exam. Why do you ask?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to a restaurant with me," Halle responds. They hit the ball with their paddle and send it over the table, where their friend intercepts it. "It's kind of sad, eating at restaurants alone."

He dives to the side and hits the ball with a quiet ping. "Have you asked anyone else?"

"Ella has to go to church and Erika's going to be working. I always forget I'm the only one out of all of you without a life."

"Well, not really," he says. "You're on the school tennis team, plus you're always typing something up on your laptop and you guard it, like, with your life. A hundred years later you'll end up on those shows where they try to uncover unsolved mysteries, like, 'what was Halle Grieg writing? Guess we'll never know!'"

They hit the ball particularly hard with a snort, though it unfortunately doesn't thonk Raivis in the head like they wanted. "Erika knows, and so does Ella."

"So it's just a secret you're keeping from me?"

"Pretty much."

The ping-pong ball bounces off their belly and back onto the table, where it rolls halfway across their side before stopping. Raivis gives them the meanest glare he can muster, meaning they level what can at most be called a disappointed look. Halle reaches for the ball and sends it across the table again. "So you're sure you won't be free?

"Uh-huh. I gotta do well in this exam or I won't be able to go to this summer intensive that I've been wanting to go to since I started taking lessons. I sure as hell am not missing the chance."

"Ooh, good luck." They miss the ball again and run to pick it up from the floor, continuing, "I'll ask if my brother's free, then."

Raivis drops the ball into the canister next to the ping-pong table instead of hitting it back and stretches. "Let's go back upstairs. I think we have some leftover sweets in the kitchen."

The two of them stomp up the stairs and out of the basement, just barely managing to dodge the cat on the way to the kitchen. Raivis goes straight for the fridge, flings open the door and pulls out a plate triumphantly. On the plate are four pastry things that look a bit like tarts with their crimped, deep-brown crusts and vibrant orange filling. He pulls back the cling-film over it and hands Halle one of the pastries before taking one himself. "These are called sklandu rauši," he explains. "Dad likes to make them really sweet, but he says it's not really authentic. They're still amazing, though."

They're about to take a bite when Raivis intercepts them with a piece of tissue. "Don't let any crumbs fall!"

This time with tissue ready to catch whatever crumbles off, Halle bites into the pastry. The orange filling turns out to be made of carrots, melt-in-their-mouth soft and almost creamy with how tender it is. There's just a hint of tartness that keeps the rich carrots from making the dish too filling, and they can taste the faintest hint of vanilla if they concentrate hard enough. "Are you sure they're not supposed to be sweet?" They blurt.

"Nope." Raivis manoeuvres to catch a falling piece of his treat before it can fall to the floor. "The ones they make back in Latvia are kinda, uh… neutral-tasting, I guess is the word? They're not particularly sweet or savoury, is what I'm trying to say."

They finish off the sklandu rauši and run upstairs again, this time to Raivis' bedroom. "We still have an hour before you have to go home." He grabs his Nintendo Switch off his desk and grins. "How 'bout a game of Mario Kart?"

Halle trips over a stack of books, a binder and a hoodie they're pretty sure belongs to Henrik on the way to their brother's desk, but Stellan doesn't look up from his laptop even at the commotion. He only turns to them once they're standing right next to him, signing annoyedly, what.

They glance at the grand total of four words (half of which are swears) displayed on Stellan's laptop. "I'm assuming you can't go for lunch tomorrow."

Nope, too busy suffering. He gestures at the document on his screen. Have an essay due on Monday.

"You're starting an essay due Monday on a Saturday evening?"

Stellan glares at them. Yes. Now get out of my room. He emphasises the command by flipping them off at the end.

Unwilling to subject themself to more of their brother's silent wrath, Halle steps around the various obstacles littered across the floor and hightails it out of the room.

They promptly kick their backpack the moment they step into their own bedroom. I really need to tidy up my stuff.

They still can't find someone to go to Wang's with the next afternoon, so the ride there is a solitary one again — at least, it seems like it until the bus stops in front of the city hall and in comes Madeline, Matthieu Bonnefoy's twin sister. Halle waves at her, pulling their beg aside so that she can sit next to them. "Hey."

She smiles faintly. "Good afternoon… er…"

"Halle," they supply.

"Yes, Halle." Madeline's fingers play with the ribbon tied to the end of her braid as she speaks. "Where are you headed?"

"Just off to lunch. How about you?"

"I'm going to have lunch, too," she replies. "I'm going to this restaurant named Wang's."

What a coincidence. "So am I."

"My boyfriend works there."

Their mind goes to Leon for a moment, even though Madeline's a good two years older than him and they don't seem like the type to have met. Halle settles for answering, "I think your brother told me about him."

"Ah, of course he did." She picks at the end of the ribbon. "Matthieu can't ever resist gossiping, can he?"

The two of them get off at the same bus station, then stroll to Wang's. The cashier beams at them when the door opens. "Hey, Madeline!"

She nods at her. "Nice to see you, Ling."

"And welcome back to you too." Ling addresses them next. "Will it be a table of one again?"

"Actually," Halle says quickly, "can you get a table for two? I'll be sitting with Madeline."

"Oh, of course." She leads them to a table near the kitchens, where a pair of menus are already waiting.

Madeline waits until Ling is out of earshot before demanding, "why did you ask for us to be seated together? I wanted to sit alone."

All that's running through Halle's mind is a repeat of, oh crap, oh no, what the hell did I just do, what is happening, but they manage to choke out, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that. But, uh, I was thinking that maybe we could share the stuff we order, or something? You know, the more the merrier."

She rubs her temples. "I would've appreciated a warning, at the very least, but all right. Go see what you want to order."

They open the menu. Without Leon as a guide this time, the order will be entirely up to them. After flicking through the dishes for a while, they finally settle on the deep-fried tofu, which he recommended last time, and braised pork served with something called mui choi. Once Madeline has decided too, she waves Leon over.

"Oh, hey." He waves at Madeline. "Haven't seen you here in a while." He turns to Halle next. "And I see you've come back. Would it be weird to ask for a name, or…?"

"My name's Halle. You're Leon, right?"

"Yeah," he confirms, pulling out his notepad. "You ready to order yet?"

Aside from the tofu and pork, they also order a toasted, buttered bun and a pair of Portuguese egg tarts. Leon sweeps away, and Halle prepares their notebook under the table.

The bun arrives first, which Madeline cuts in half. While eating their half of the bun, they learn that trying to hold a notebook open, write and eat at the same time is pretty much impossible, so Halle finishes it before penning it down on a brand new page. The bun is crispy all the way through, sandwiching a thick, salty slice of butter that melts slowly as they eat. It's literally just bread and butter, but they somehow manage to dedicate a couple of paragraphs to it, finishing the remarks with, there's just something beautiful and delicious in the simplicity of buttered, toasted bread, and this restaurant encapsulates that beautiful, delicious simplicity perfectly.

They split the tofu and pork next. The deep-fried tofu has a crispy, delicate crust that has just enough spice to be exciting yet not overwhelming, and the interior is smooth and silky, almost like a pudding of sorts. Tofu gets such a bad rap as some sort of "gross vegan food" by the media, the notebook records, but that's probably because the people trying it haven't had real tofu. In that case, Wang's has you covered with a light, airy deep-fried treat that definitely doesn't deserve to be called "gross".

The mui choi served with the pork turns out to be a sort of cured vegetable that's interestingly crunchy. Paired with the tender pork, the dish delivers a rich umami flavour they've never tasted before. The verdict: this dish is perfect for anyone who loves rich, intense flavours — the combination of pork and mui choi — cured vegetables — will knock your socks off.

Lastly, they take an egg tart each. "I'm pretty sure my boyfriend made these," Madeline says as she observes it. "He's a really good baker, maybe even better than my brother."

The custard filling plays well with the buttery, flaky shell, and the charred topping of the tart tastes almost smoky. Halle finishes the entire tart before scribbling in their notebook again, smudging the page in pastry flakes while lauding, this egg tart is not too sweet, for those who don't like too much sugar in their desserts, but is instead fragrant with the flavours of egg, butter and vanilla. The flaky crust and almost-runny custard filling will cause quite a mess, though, so it might not be the best thing to order for your children, not unless you have a pack of wet wipes handy.

Madeline stands up and disappears into the kitchen once she's finished her tart, and emerges with a young man in tow. He takes his hair net off, revealing dark hair like Leon's, and quickly takes his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt. They approach the table, and Madeline introduces, "this is my boyfriend Vicente."

"Hi there." Vicente doesn't hold out a hand for them to shake, instead just nodding at them. "How are you liking the food here?"

"It's pretty good." Halle closes their notebook, slips the pen into the spine, and slowly slides it towards their bag.

Leon shows up with their receipt, which he sets down on the table while glancing at Vicente. "Hey, you're out of the kitchen."

"You sound very surprised."

"Bro, you pretty much live in there the entire day," Leon teases. "But again, I'm not surprised it's Madeline who gets you to finally come out and get some fresh air. You're totally whipped for her."

"Anyways," he continues, "I was just talking to this nice customer over here."

"You mean Halle? This is their third time here."

"You don't have to talk about me like I'm not here, you know."

"Right, right, sorry." Leon gives them a playful jab in the ribs, and they jump at the touch. "Anyways, pay up when you want to leave, and all that stuff. By the way, what's up with that notebook you carry around everywhere?"

Ah, crap. "Oh, it's just… homework. Yeah. My school gives us lots of work to do." They grab the notebook and shove it into the bag. "Yeah," they say again.

"I've got a notebook that kinda looks like yours, though I don't use it for homework. I just use it to write stories and stuff."

"That's cool."

Leon shrugs. "I guess. If you come by again I might show it to you."

Both him and Vicente go back to work after a while, and they leave the restaurant once they've paid. The review's so close, so damn close to being done, it only needs a few more paragraphs. Halle looks back at their notes on the ride home, and decides that the next visit to Wang's, marking the completion of the review, will be their last.