Kid Flex

Kyle and Clara sat across from each other at a small white table, a modest flower in the center swaying gently in the evening breeze. The soft hum of conversation from other patrons mixed with the occasional clang of plates and cups, creating a cozy yet lively atmosphere.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as their orders arrived. Clara wrapped her hands around her cup, her slender fingers drumming lightly against the ceramic, while Kyle stirred his coffee absently, trying not to let his nerves show.

"So," Clara began, her voice light yet teasing as she leaned forward slightly, her blue eyes locking onto his. "Are you going to tell me?"

Kyle raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "Tell you what?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even.

Clara tilted her head, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "Okay, let me tell you a secret first," she said, her voice dropping to a softer, more conspiratorial tone.

Kyle leaned in slightly, his heart thudding in his chest despite his attempt to stay calm.

Clara took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving his. "I can sense the supernatural," she said, her words deliberate and measured, as though testing his reaction.

For a moment, silence hung between them. The gentle clink of a spoon from a nearby table felt deafening in the pause. Clara's eyes searched Kyle's face, waiting for even the slightest flicker of surprise or doubt.

But Kyle didn't flinch. He met her gaze with a steady expression, his grip on the handle of his coffee cup tightening imperceptibly.

"Weird," Clara said, chuckling softly as she leaned back in her chair. Her fingers traced the rim of her cup. "A normal person would have burst into laughter."

Kyle smirked, lifting his cup to his lips to buy a moment before responding. "Guess I'm not normal then," he said, keeping his voice casual despite the heat prickling at the back of his neck.

Clara's smile widened, but her eyes remained sharp, watching him like a hawk. "No," she said quietly, "you're definitely not."

Kyle's stomach tightened at her words, but he forced himself to stay calm, taking another sip of his coffee. "So, what does this supernatural sense of yours tell you about me?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, trying to match her relaxed demeanor.

Meanwhile, in the bushes just a few feet away, the trio of spies strained to catch snippets of the conversation. Leaves rustled as Bart shifted uncomfortably, while Michael kept trying to push past him to get a better view.

"I still think this isn't right," Trish whispered, her voice a mixture of annoyance and authority. With a firm grip, she stopped Bart and Michael from going at each other's throats, holding their faces back with her hands.

"You two need to calm down!" she hissed, her tone sharp enough to momentarily freeze them in place. Despite her petite frame, she had an iron grip, and neither boy could break free, their faces smushed comically in her hands.

"Trish, let go! I need to see what's going on!" Michael whined, trying to wriggle loose.

"Stop squirming. You're making too much noise," Trish shot back, glaring at him.

"Man, you guys are boring," Michael muttered under his breath after another failed attempt. With an exaggerated sigh, he pulled away from the bushes and stood up, brushing off his clothes. "I'm outta here." Without waiting for a response, he walked off, muttering something about how lame the whole thing was.

Bart barely noticed Michael leaving. His eyes remained glued to Kyle and Clara, his anxiety practically radiating off him. He crouched lower, biting his lip as his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

Trish arched an eyebrow, glancing at Bart. "You okay? You look like you're about to throw up."

"I don't trust her," Bart whispered, his voice barely audible. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped the edge of the shrub for balance. "She's bad news. I can feel it."

Trish gave him a skeptical look, tilting her head. "You don't even know her," she pointed out. "And eavesdropping on your best friend's date isn't exactly helping your case."

Bart managed a sheepish smile, his tense shoulders relaxing just slightly. "I guess you're right," he murmured, his voice softening as he tried to ease up.

Back at the café, Kyle and Clara sat close together as the golden hues of the setting sun bathed their faces in a warm glow. Clara leaned back slightly, her laughter light and melodious, reminiscent of the gentle chime of bells.

"I really enjoyed this," she said, her cheeks dimpling as she chuckled. "We should do this more often."

Kyle hesitated, his nerves bubbling to the surface. Summoning his courage, he looked at her and asked, "So... like boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Clara tilted her head, her smile growing playful as she leaned closer to him. "Why do people have to put labels on everything?" she teased, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Before Kyle could respond, a cool, calm voice sliced through the moment like a knife. "Miss Corbett," it called, deliberate and authoritative.

Clara turned quickly, the teasing glint in her eyes replaced by something more formal. "Hector!" she exclaimed, her tone carrying a mix of surprise and affection.

From the path behind her, a tall, slim figure emerged, his dark green suit sharp and immaculate. Thin white lines ran along the seams, adding a sleek touch to his corporate attire. Hector was brown-skinned, with striking green eyes that contrasted starkly with his complexion. His jawline was sharp, almost sculpted, and his silky black hair was perfectly combed into place.

"Kyle, this is Hector—my butler," Clara said, her voice light, though her expression carried a subtle edge of hesitation.

Kyle blinked, unsure how to respond. "Good afternoon," he finally managed, offering a polite nod.

Hector's piercing green eyes flicked to Kyle, cold and analytical. His gaze seemed to cut straight through him, as though peeling back layers to examine every flaw, every insecurity. He didn't reply to the greeting, instead narrowing his eyes slightly, his expression unreadable.

Kyle shifted uncomfortably under the butler's scrutiny, his smile faltering. Clara, noticing the tension, placed a gentle hand on Kyle's arm, her touch grounding him. "Don't mind Hector," she said with a reassuring smile. "He's... protective."

"Right," Kyle said, though his voice wavered slightly. He forced a smile, but Hector's unwavering gaze lingered, the air between them thick with unspoken judgment.

Finally, Hector's intense gaze broke away from Kyle. The butler turned to Clara with a measured bow, his voice calm but firm. "Miss, it is time to go."

Clara nodded, her demeanor shifting from playful to hurried. "Right, of course," she said, quickly gathering her belongings. Turning back to Kyle, she flashed him a warm smile, her voice light and genuine. "Let's do this again sometime, okay?"

Kyle's heart skipped a beat as he returned her smile. "Yeah, definitely," he said, his tone tinged with a mix of eagerness and nervousness.

They waved at each other as Clara stepped into a sleek black car that seemed to shimmer under the dimming sunlight. The engine purred to life, and within moments, the car pulled away, its glossy surface reflecting the streetlights as it disappeared down the road.

Kyle stood there, rooted in place, his smile lingering as he stared into the distance. His thoughts swirled, replaying every word, every laugh, and every moment of the evening. A dreamy expression settled over his face, his mind lost in the memory of her smile.

Suddenly, a voice shattered the silence, sharp and crackling like static tearing through a serene melody. The unsettling tone sent a chill down Kyle's spine.

"Well, that was one boring date," Raknar sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Where's the kiss? The passion?"