Saved You a Seat (Izzy)

[Wren O'Hara]

Wren’s week had been full of first times, that was for sure. On Monday, he’d traded numbers with a girl for a first time. A few minutes earlier, he’d arranged a date for the first time. And now – again for the first time – he found himself wishing that he owned nicer clothes.

He stared at his open closet, surveying his choices carefully. It can’t be that difficult, he told himself. She’d already seen him in his swimwear, for Pete’s sake, and she hadn’t seemed too disgusted then. He couldn’t wear his swimwear to the cafeteria, though.

Well, he could, but that would definitely be really weird.

He sighed and knitted his eyebrows together. He tried to coach himself silently by asking himself what he would wear if he were meeting anyone else at the cafeteria. Peyton, for example. If he were meeting Peyton, or Yue, what would he wear? A t-shirt and shorts, probably. That was what he always wore.

Thinking about his friends in that situation was super weird, though, so he shook the thought out of his mind and tried again. After a few moments, he decided to trade the shorts he had on for his only pair of jeans, but keep the shirt (it was deep blue with the words ‘BORN TO SWIM – FORCED TO TRAIN’ screen-printed on). It was a nice compromise, he felt – they were just jeans, right? Nobody could accuse him of trying too hard.

After he’d changed clothes, he grabbed his phone and stuffed it quickly into his pocket. Then, he took one last look in the mirror. He had serious pool-hair, and he grimaced before grabbing a navy blue Yankees cap and pulling it over the mess.

Even after all the struggle, by the time he’d made his way out of the dorms and into the cafeteria, it was only 6:10. He looked around for Izzy, but didn’t see her; he turned his attention to the good seats – the ones by the large windows overlooking the grounds – and made a beeline for a table with two chairs. Normally, he would have gotten his food first, but they’d had a deal. The dinner floodgates were about to open, and he couldn’t risk someone taking their seats.

Definitely not on their first date, anyway.

His cheeks flushed.

[Izabelle Phillips]

Izzy tapped her finger against her lower lip as she looked through her overly nice and tidy closet and sighed. They were only going to the cafeteria, so she couldn't overdo it, and since they weren't going out to train, she couldn't under do it. Ah, the troubles of being a female always striving to impress. She then ran her hand through her hair and shook her head. She settled for a dark blue jeans short and a white tank top, with a black tank over that one. She didn't really bother with any accessories since they were only going to be in the cafeteria. She picked up her dark brown uggs and pulled them on, all the while looking herself in the mirror. Okay, this was good enough. Cute, but simple.

After getting dressed, she walked over to the mirror and put her hair up in a pony tail, letting one of her locks fall down her forehead and cheek. She didn't really bother with make-up, since she rarely used it anyways. And then she put her phone in her bra, because female clothing these days were too tight to keep their phones anywhere else, and a bra was as good as any pocket anyways. And then she took a last check in the mirror before she was on her way to her 'date'.

The closer she got, the more nervous she felt. She didn't know what to do with her hands, and ended up keeping them folded and interlocked in front of her. She kept her eyes forward and tried telling herself to calm down, but that was far from easy. After all, she was going to meet this super adorable guy and she wasn't really prepared for it to happen. She had almost expected it to take weeks. But nope, a few days later and here she was. Acting like such a girl. Sigh.

When she finally arrived she stuck her head inside the cafeteria and looked around, and once she finally spotted Wren, she smiled and skipped over. Luckily for her, his back was facing her, so there didn't have to be one of those awkward, slow motion moments where he'd sit and stare while she was walking closer. And then she'd end up tripping and making a huge fool out of herself. God, she really watched too many movies. Izzy placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned down. ''Boo.'', she whispered and grinned.

[Wren O'Hara]

Wren was staring out the window at the setting sun when he felt two hands clamp down on his shoulders and squeeze gently. He didn’t jump, although he tilted his head back with raised eyebrows.

This particular movement put his face and Izzy’s face just a little too close together to be comfortable. Their eyes met. He twisted around, smiling shyly.

“Hey,” he said through a small chuckle. Now that he could see the rest of her, he noticed that she looked really nice – she had a natural, easy-on-the-makeup look that he was really into. Also, he noted, her hair was really blonde when it was dry.

“Er, sorry this was super short notice,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “It’s nice to see you again, though. You look nice.”

There was a beat of silence.

“And, uh, I’m pretty sure it’s chicken parmesan night.”

He squinted over at the food counter, then looked back at Izzy with a sheepish half-smile.

“If you wanna go ahead and get your food, I’ll save your seat for you,” he offered.

[Izabelle Phillips]

She smiled at him. The close proximity didn't really bother her all that much, it was actually sort of nice. Either way, she let her hands drop to her sides. ''Hiya!'', she chirped cheerfully and took a seat next to him, finally letting herself study him. He looked really cute with that hat and it just made her smile widen. It surely was different seeing him outside the pool. Not that she had really minded less clothing and all, but hey, he managed to look good while clothed too, so she didn't really mind too much on that either.

''Oh, don't worry. I don't mind.'' She rested her hands in her lap and tilted her head to the side, still smiling. ''Thank you. So do you.'' He really did look nice. And cute. And adorable. ''Aaand it's nice seeing you again as well.'', she said with a laugh. She turned her attention over to the counters and nodded. ''That's fine. I like most food anyways, so.'', she said and turned her attention back to him. ''Such a gentleman.'' She stood up again and gave his shoulder a gentle rub. ''Oh don't worry. If someone steals our seats, we can always find somewhere else to sit. Unless you prefer sitting here of course.'' She didn't really mind where they sat as long as they sat together.

The food did smell good. And she was a lot more hungry than what she had thought.

[Wren O'Hara]

The smile didn’t fade from Wren’s face as Izzy took the seat next to him. If anything, his facial muscles were getting an awesome workout.

“Ah, thanks,” he murmured in reply to her compliment. He instinctively looked down at his shirt; he’d had it for ages, and it was one of his favorites, but he’d never really thought about how he looked in it. All of his clothes had been chosen based on a scale with two variables: he bought clothes that were comfortable, clothes that were blue, and clothes that were both comfortable and blue.

“Me too,” he drew the sentence out, laughing sheepishly. “My favorite is Thursday. They have nachos on Thursday.”

He chewed on his lip absentmindedly, offering a nervous half-smile at her comment about him being a gentleman. It was a good thing, right? He’d only wanted to make sure she had a place to sit – he hoped that she hadn’t been offended. She stood up a moment later, though, and her hand grazed his shoulder gently and lingered there for a second or two. He felt that familiar thud in his chest, the one that threatened to make a fool out of him.

“I don’t really mind either way,” he said quickly, pushing his chair back a little and standing, too. “I mean, it’s just that everyone always goes for the window seats.” Indeed, the noise level in the cafeteria had already grown considerably in the few minutes they’d been there. Everyone was free to go in and out of the cafeteria until nine o’clock, but most students and teachers came around this time. If anyone had made the mistake of thinking that Hammel was a quiet place, they needed only to be present at the cafeteria on chicken parmesan night.

With the decision made, he searched her eyes one more time – just to be sure – before smiling a small, warm smile. He tucked his hands into his pockets.

“We’ll go together, then,” he said in his usual calm, composed voice, which barely drifted over the susurrus of everyone else’s conversations. He walked with her over to the back of the line, which was steadily growing, and pulled out a second tray to hand to her. Then, he placed his tray on the silver tracks of the cafeteria line and fished a can of grape soda out of the trough of ice water. His fingers disappeared on contact, and he rubbed them quickly dry on his t-shirt.

[Izabelle Phillips]

''I don't blame you. Nachos are delicious.'', she said with a chuckle. Well, most things covered in cheese was delicious.

Izzy couldn't really get over how insanely adorable it was when he was nervous, or just plain old awkward. It made her want to lean in and pinch his cheeks. But she wasn't going to do that, because she'd rather not make it more awkward for him than what it seemed to be already. But man, it was hard to resist, because it'd make him even more adorable. If that was even possible.

She watched him as he talked and nodded slowly at his words. She was glad they agreed, and one sitting here alone while the other was fetching food seemed kind of silly. They were supposed to be here together after all, weren't they? And really, even if there was a lot of people and a lot of noise, she was sure they'd manage. Heck, if they had to, they could always eat outside. She wasn't picky. She'd enjoy it either way, as long as she got to spend some time with him. Where their spent said time was the least of her worries.

Izzy grinned. ''All right, it's settled then.'' She followed him to the food counter and accepted the tray with a smile. She watched his fingers grow transparent and chuckled. Man, she couldn't get over how cool his power was. She could only imagine all the fun she could have had with a power like that, and all the pranks she could have pulled on people. Swim practice would surely have been a lot more fun. The thought made her chuckle to herself.

She snapped back to reality and focused on getting food instead. She placed a glass of water on her tray, because in her opinion, soda wasn't something to be put with dinner. Maybe it was because they had never done that at home, she didn't know. Not that it was really important anyways. And the food smelled delicious. She couldn't wait to see if it tasted just as good. ''Didn't your mom ever tell you that it's rude to wear hats while you eat?'', she asked with a playful smirk and leaned up to snatch the baseball hat from is head and placed it on her own.

Awyeah, totally smooth.

[Wren O'Hara]

“Yeah they are,” Wren said emphatically, grinning at Izzy. He was already psyched to hang out with her because she was beautiful and nice, but now that he knew she liked nachos, his heart was won. “They’re my favorite food.”

He continued sliding his tray down the line, occasionally grabbing things and lifting them casually onto his plate. By the time they reached the entrée section, he’d grabbed an apple, a bowl of mashed potatoes, one serving of green beans and carrots (let no one say that he never ate his vegetables), and a dinner roll. He slid his tray to a stop in front of the steaming plates of chicken parmesan, looking for his perfect match.

This sort of thing was very important to him.

In the end, he picked the one with more spaghetti – he personally thought the spaghetti was the best part – and then quickly looked behind him to see if their seats were still available. Surprisingly, no one had swooped in to snatch them yet. He was about to turn around and tell Izzy the good news when she snatched the hat off of his head, revealing his mess of dark brown hair. He blinked at her for a moment, then huffed out a laugh.

“Is it really?” he asked good-naturedly, unable to stop himself from noticing how cute she looked in his Yankees cap. He raked his slightly-damp hair with one hand a little self-consciously. He still smelled a little like chlorine. “You’d probably better keep it, then.”

He grinned and hoisted his tray up, then, moving back toward the table by the large window. He slid his tray onto the table carefully and began unloading the massive amount of food he’d gotten onto the table. When he was done, he held out one hand.

“I’ll take your tray back,” he offered. “I mean, if you want.”

[Izabelle Phillips]

Izzy didn't really pay much attention to what she did and did not place on her tray. After all, it wasn't like it really mattered and she was hungry enough to eat anything. She had never really been picky when it came to food, and she didn't see why she should start being now. Of course, like everyone else, even she had her favorite foods, but they didn't serve that today anyways.

The corner of her lips twitched up at his reaction of her stealing his cap. It was cute, and she was really glad he wasn't one of those guys who got pissy over something like this.

''Aye, aye, captain.'', she said with a chuckle. She didn't really know any baseball references, so pirate ones had to do. Besides, pirates was way cooler than baseball players anyways. Like Jack Sparrow. Who could ever watch Jack Sparrow without laughing their ass off? Really, the man was hilarious.

She followed Wren back to their seats and placed the tray down with a huff and watched the boy unload all his food. And when he spoke, she chuckled. ''Tell me something.'', she began as she sat down and crossed her leg over the other, leaning her head on the back of her hand. ''If you walk back with the tray now... What are you using to carry all the dirty plates back with?'' She smiled as she tapped her lower lip with her index finger. Maybe he liked carrying all the dirty plates back with the risk of breaking them all, but she didn't want to take that risk.

''I'll keep mine, but thank you for offering.''

[Wren O'Hara]

Wren cracked a smile at her pirate impersonation that showed a flash of his white teeth and made dimples in his cheeks. He huffed out another short laugh before shaking his head.

“I’m a deckhand at best,” he told her, although he didn’t sound bitter about it. The corners of his lips were still quirked upward. “You can really keep it, by the way. I mean, if you want. I have another. Sorry it smells like chlorine.”

He actually had three Yankees caps, including that one, and at least seven more in his closet besides. He liked to have the sun out of his eyes, but that definitely wasn’t a problem indoors – plus, it really did look good on her.

They settled down at the table, and he offered his hand for her tray, and her reply made him blink a few times in surprise. He stared at her for a moment, as though he was lost in thought.

Then, a hot flush crept into his cheeks before he’d known what was happening.

“Oh… yeah, I’ve always just stacked them,” he said lamely, looking down at his food bemusedly. So that was why everyone always kept their tray. Why hadn’t he ever thought of that? He could feel the tops of his ears burning. “Sorry, I guess that’s pretty dumb of me, huh?” he said, laughing.

He lowered his hand to his side and, with some embarrassed solemnity, rested his own tray at the edge of the table so that it wouldn’t be in the way.

He sat.

It was his first time eating with a girl. Well – no, that wasn’t entirely true. He’d eaten at the dinner table with his mom and sister, and they were obviously girls. He ate lunch with Yue, and she was a girl. He’d eaten in a group at one of the bigger tables, sometimes with girls, but he usually didn’t sit beside them.

It was somehow different, though, and it surely felt like the first time he’d eaten with a girl. Perhaps it was the first time he’d eaten with a girl while simultaneously being constantly aware that she was, indeed, a girl.

After a moment of hesitation, he picked up his spoon and dipped it into his mashed potatoes experimentally. He lifted a spoonful to his mouth, swallowed, and spoke again.

“So, um…” he said, before realizing that whatever he’d meant to say had slipped away from his mind; he left the unfinished sentence dangling for a moment before smiling awkwardly. “Hi,” he murmured, his voice lowering a little. He looked down at his mashed potatoes, then looked out the window at the quickly setting sun. Then, he looked back at her.

“Hey, what’s your favorite color?” he asked after a beat of silence. It was pretty lame, he knew, but it was a start at least. Hopefully, if he opened up and was receptive, she would teach him how to have an actual conversation.