Getting noticed
Dylan's tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he drew thin lines in the scenery he was sketching. It was almost the end of the school day. Then, Dylan would go to work, leave his car there since Trent and Sam didn't know about it, then, he would walk home.
It was the last ten minutes of class when the door swung open
Avonlea.
What was she doing here?
Avonlea looked down shyly as she held her book tighter to her body. "I was in the wrong class and then I got lost." She mumbled. The teacher looked up from her desk and to her questioningly before sighing and nodding her head.
"Go sit there." The teacher spoke, pointing to a desk. A desk that was right next to Dylan Sinclair.
No no no no no!
She couldn't sit next to him! She was already invading his thoughts when she wasn't in his class. How was he going to handle her right next to him? Dylan's foot began to tap against the floor in anxiousness. As Avonlea turned to face Dylan, her face seemed to brighten up when she saw she was going to sit next to someone that she recognized. Happily walking over, Avonlea plopped herself down with a bright smile on her face. "Hi!" Her excited voice spoke. Dylan's only response was a curt nod to acknowledge her.
Avonlea's face fell just a bit. Nodding her own head before turning to the board where the assignment was posted. Today, it was just a simple free draw. Dylan could find so many negatives in this situation. He was already beginning to open up to her and they had talked once. If that. She couldn't find out about him, no one could. He had instilled that on himself when he was young. There was no way he was breaking that now. However, there was one positive of this.
Class was almost over.
But, that won't happen tomorrow. Tomorrow, in his last class, all there would be is problems. Dylan didn't spend the rest of the class drawing. Instead, he stared ahead at the board, waiting and hoping for the class to end soon enough. His hopes came true after what seemed like forever as the bell rang, the sound ringing throughout the room and the school. Dylan bolted up and swung his backpack over his shoulder, rushing out of the class faster than Avonlea could have said 'wait'.
Going into the parking lot and hopping into his car, Dylan sped off to his work. What was this girl doing to him? He couldn't let this happen again tomorrow. He couldn't risk anyone finding out.
During his drive on the way to work, his mind filled with thoughts of Avonlea. Dylan bit his lip tightly, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He had to get this girl out of his head. No matter the cost.
Soon, Dylan Sinclair pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant that was painted a neat white with a soft blue undertone. Even just looking at it Dylan could tell he would never be able to afford to eat here. Luckily, the only good thing that came out of his foster parent situation was useful to him in this situation. He was an amazing cook. As long as he had the ingredients, he could cook anything anyone asked for, no matter the origin or the difficulty. That was the only reason he was allowed to work at such a high-end place. This was because his foster parents never paid him any attention, but they would oftentimes have some sort of ingredients laying around. Dylan would play around, and, eventually, understood what tasted good and what didn't.
Dylan slid out of the car and went into the restaurant. As soon as he was in the back, he slid off his coat for the first time today before slipping on the chef's coat. This coat didn't have the two slits because he never needed to fly in the coat. The coat was a clean white color. That is until Dylan began cooking and food began to sizzle and pop.
Dylan really enjoyed his job. He loved being able to make people smile without having to get to know them or become too close. It was perfect.
Throughout the night, Dylan cooked with a small smile on his face. No one paid attention to him, so he was able to get lost in his thoughts. This time, however, he wasn't thinking of Avonlea. Instead, he was thinking of Forever Incline. How the wind ripples his wing's feathers and how they give mighty flaps to keep him upright. It was magical.
Dylan had no idea why he could do what he did, but, he did know he loved it. Without this special gift he held, he probably would be in a corner shaking of terror from his foster parents. This gift allows him to be somebody. It allows him to know who he is and what he can do. It's incredible.
Completely lost in his thoughts, Dylan didn't notice the person seated at table four, staring at him through a small window into the kitchen. The man was bald, wearing a fancy suit. It wasn't uncommon for people to wear suits at this establishment, but for this man, it was his everyday attire. You have to when you work for the government.
The mysterious man had a mic on his palm, yet it was covered by the sleeve of his jacket. There had been some suspicion on something... unfamiliar flying in the clouds in this town. It was a small town, not seeming to be on anyone's radar. But, the mysterious thing in the air lead the government to begin doing research. After finding out Dylan Sinclair was the only one who was adopted or in the foster program, that put him on their radar. It also didn't help that there were small reports that got shut down of Trent and Sam's son disappearing for an hour or two at a time. This was the evidence they needed to begin their investigation.
After an hour, Dylan's shift was over. He went into the back, changing out of his chef coat and into his green one. Exiting the kitchen and walking to the front door, he didn't notice the same man from before stand up after paying the check and follow after him. The man stayed a good distance away.
Dylan left his car at the restaurant per usual, but, today, he decided that he wanted to go to Forever Incline.
He couldn't have made a worse decision.