[EMY]
"I . . . I don't know . . . ," Angel mumbled, her eyes darting to the side as if the café walls might offer her an escape route.
Alright. One more push. That was all she needed. One more strike, straight to the heart.
I leaned back in my chair, tapping my fingers against the table like a mob boss deciding whether to make an offer or break kneecaps.
Then I leaned forward so suddenly that Angel squeaked, almost spilling her water.
"Angel," I said, dead serious. "Do you believe in destiny?"
Her glasses slid down her nose. "Uh . . . what?"
"Because right now, destiny is sitting in front of you, holding your hand, and ordering overpriced ramen just to convince you to chase your dream."
I gave her my most dramatic stare — the one I'd practiced in bathroom mirrors, the kind that said I know something you don't.
Angel blinked. ". . . You practiced that line, didn't you?"
