After what happened the night before, Jordan felt like the best thing for Lincoln and Stella would be for them to talk things out before they went any further with their case. Teamwork makes the dream work, as her father had always said. The Royal Woods Wendigo would be tough to find even with their three heads put together, so the last thing Jordan needed was for one of those heads to be uneasy around one of the other.
Still, she had underestimated how much Lincoln's departure had hurt Stella. Granted, nothing would have clued her in on that little fact, but what could have told her that Stella was going to have an outburst like that? Part of Jordan wanted to just say Stella was being melodramatic, but the other part tried to be a bit more understanding.
Urgh! I'm wasting time thinking about this!
They'd meet up again today. Jordan had already told both Lincoln and Stella that they were going to meet up at that coffee shop in the Royal Woods Mall (there was no way someone as self-conscious as Stella was going to start a shouting match in public), but the more Jordan thought about it, the more she realized… well…
Her pink lips stretched into a sly smirk.
"This is going to be fun."
They were supposed to meet up at 2 PM sharp. Supposed to. Jordan made it pretty clear she wouldn't tolerate any lateness from him, which irked Lincoln all the more when, fifteen minutes later, neither her nor Stella were anywhere to be found.
Serves me right for showing up on time for once.
Oh well, he'd bury his grievances with a warm cup of mocha latte. He wanted to get a snack with it – he was really craving donuts this week for some reason – but unfortunately there was no Loni Lionel behind the counter to give discounts to people who didn't deserve them. Lousy "paying full price" policy.
Maybe I'm at the wrong place? Maybe Jordan and Stella are waiting for me at some other coffee place, Lincoln wondered as he raised the cup to his mouth. Warm, creamy liquid poured down his throat, and when he finished drinking he couldn't help but smack his lips with satisfaction. Lincoln wasn't particularly fond of coffee shop drinks – even as a grown man he'd prefer a Flippee or a soda – but he couldn't deny that these guys made the best lattes in all of Royal Woods. Surprising for a mall joint, but not an unwelcome surprise. If I am in the wrong place, Lincoln thought as he raised his cup for a second sip, then I can stay wrong for all I care.
"Hey, sorry I'm late."
Lincoln's ear pricked at the sound of Stella's voice. He turned in his chair, ready to say something like "Nah, it's fine" or "I just arrived two minutes ago, I'm not a loser that shows up early!",but when he saw Stella's attire, his words lodged in his throat.
She wasn't wearing her usual shirt-and-dress combo, nor was she wearing a detective's trench-coat. Instead, her lithe body was covered by an airy, yellow dress. The hem on her dress was lacy, as were the sleeves. The yellow color was a soft shade that made the already-radiant Stella glow with beauty. Her chest had room to stand out, giving Lincoln a prime view of how her mounds had grown. She didn't look like she was dressed for discussing a matter of public safety and security. No, she looked like she was dressed for a… a d-date…
Lincoln's beet-red face said it all to Stella as she sat directly across from him. She smiled sheepishly, and noted, "Do you like my dress? J-Jordan picked it out for me."
"You're beautiful," Lincoln mumbled. His eyes widened as he heard what he said, and he quickly corrected, "I mean, i-it's beautiful!"
Stella blushed. "Thank you," she said.
Change the topic, Linc, before you say something else that's really stupid.
"So, uh, where's Jordan?" Lincoln craned his neck, as if he would find her hiding behind Stella.
"She dropped me off in front of the mall," Stella answered. "Finding a place to park was rough, so she told me to go ahead without her."
"I see. I guess that explains why Miss By-The-Books is so late. Seriously, what's her deal? She's gotten so grim lately. Every other word out of her mouth is 'job' or 'duty' or 'responsibility' or something like that."
Lincoln chuckled at his own observation, but Stella didn't.
She blinked weakly at him, then said, "You mean… you don't know why she's changed this much?"
Lincoln stopped laughing. He clearly hit on something serious. He shook his head, and in a low voice mumbled, "No, I don't."
The tip of Stella's tongue tentatively plastered itself to her upper lip as she debated whether to tell him or not. She felt like he had the right to know, and that he would find out eventually, but still…
"I think that's something Jordan should talk to you about," she finally decided. "All I can say is… there's a reason she's really devoted to being a detective. And it's not a happy reason."
"Ah, I see." An awkward pause. "A lot happened while I was hiding away, huh?"
Stella nodded slowly.
Lincoln leaned back into his chair, and rubbed his eyes. They didn't feel tired, but it was more about the show anyway – showing the world just how tired he was of it all. He hated the fact that he missed out so much of his friends' lives… and he hated even more that some of them had their lives go downhill. God, he could only imagine how his sisters' lives were going. Him running might've had a huge impact on them. Maybe he was being egocentric, but he honestly couldn't imagine Lola's pageants going well for her without him there to help her with practice. He couldn't imagine Lynn doing martial arts without him as a sparring buddy, or Luan doing birthday gigs without him carrying around all her props.
There was one girl, though, whose sadness he could imagine: the girl sitting in front of him. He got a taste of her feelings last night, and he didn't think he could ever forget that.
He sighed. He was hoping Jordan would show up and save him by the bell from the uncomfortable silence hanging above him and Stella, but it couldn't be helped; he needed to talk about the elephant in the room.
"Stella," he started slowly, "I… well, I don't know how to say this. It's about me, and why I… ran away."
The young woman felt her heart skip a beat, and not in the good way.
"Jordan told me… a little bit about how you felt." Lincoln rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "And I just want to tell you that you had nothing to do with it. Honestly, I don't even know how you got the idea that you had something to do with it."
"Then why?" she asked. "Why did you leave?"
Before he answered, Lincoln scooped up his cup and sipped the brown liquid within. By now, the mocha was tepid and lukewarm. It provided him little pleasure to taste it. Setting his cup down with a sigh, he paused for a moment of reflection, staring at the surface of the table, and at the reflection he could just barely see staring back at him. When he looked up, into Stella's eyes, she could see things something swirling in his light blue irises.
Pain.
There was a lot of pain.
"Stella, who would you say are the most important people in your life? The people you're supposed to love the most? The people who are supposed to take care of you the most? Who would that be?"
"Y-Your parents. Your family."
Lincoln nodded, slowly and solemnly. "Yeah. Your parents. Your family. I wish they had the same view as you do."
"What do you mean?"
He wet his lips, opened his mouth to say something… then faltered. He closed his mouth and ripped his eyes away from Stella's sympathetic face to look down into his cup. His drink was slowly turning to sludge, but it was still liquid enough for it to ripple with every vibration and disturbance. It brought to Lincoln's mind the real world ripple effect; how one small disturbance could have such long-lasting ramifications.
"My dad," he finally said, "forced me out."
Stella covered her mouth with her hand, shocked. "No!"
All he could do was nod. "He didn't kick me out. I chose to run away. But I only did so because he… well, both my parents, but mostly him… it's a real tough thing to talk about..."
"You don't have to."
"Really? Good."
He said that with the comedic timing of a joke, but there was no humor in his words. He huffed some air, and the mocha rippled to create multiple rings flowing from the center. The young man slumped back into his chair, his mood soured, and watched the ripples in his cup. Story of my life, he thought bitterly.
However, when he looked back up at Stella, at the conflicted expression on her face, he felt a sudden need to lighten the mood. His mouth curved into a halfhearted smile. "Hey," he said. When she looked up at him, he followed up with, "You said you thought me running away had something to do with you? Well… it's actually the opposite. You… you actually helped me out a lot. Just by being there. Just by being my friend."
"Really?"
"Really."
Just as Lincoln had hoped, Stella was now smiling. Without even realizing it, her hand crept over to Lincoln's arm and touched him. The touch of her soft skin sent crackles of electricity racing through Lincoln's body. His eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Nothing to encourage… nothing to discourage.
"I just realized something," Stella said.
"What's that?"
"Jordan still isn't here."
Lincoln cocked an eyebrow, then looked around to see that Stella was indeed telling the truth. "Is parking really that bad?" he asked.
Stella covered her mouth and giggled. Her laughter was almost musical.
I knew you still had a heart in there, Jordan.
One sixth of the way there, boys. Nice of Jordan to give Stella and Linc some well-needed alone time, right? Well, the next chapter… isn't gonna be so nice...
