Chapter Six - The Project
(Inara's pov)
If there was one thing I hated more than group projects, it was random partner selection.
Mostly because my luck with them was atrocious - I once got paired with a guy who thought "research" meant copying Wikipedia and "presentation" meant reading it off his phone.
So when Mrs. Devon started reading names off the list, I silently prayed to the universe.
"Elias Rowan and... Inara Solace."
Tess turned in her seat to glare at me. "Of course."
I pretended to be very busy writing the date in my notebook while my heart did a full gymnastics routine in my chest.
Elias grinned, sliding into the seat next to mine. "Looks like fate likes me."
I rolled my eyes. "You're assuming fate doesn't just hate me."
"True. But either way, we're stuck together."
The project was for history - something about the cultural impact of music through the decades - which, to be honest, sounded like a dream for him and a headache for me.
After class, he nudged my shoulder. "My place tomorrow? We can start after lunch. I've got guitars, a record player, snacks - the essentials."
"Sure," I said, trying not to sound as giddy as I felt. "I'll bring notes. You bring... chaos."
"Always do."
Saturday came with sunlight streaming through my window and Naomi banging on my door.
"Inaraaa! You're going to your boyfriend's house!"
"He's not my boyfriend!"
"Then why are you wearing perfume?"
I sighed. "Because I like smelling like vanilla, not despair."
"Same thing!" she chirped, running off before I could throw a pillow at her.
Mom appeared in the doorway, smiling. "Have fun, sweetheart. Text me when you get there."
"I will."
Dad looked up from his newspaper. "Tell him if he plays that guitar too loud, he'll ruin his hearing."
"Duly noted," I said, grabbing my tote bag.
Elias lived on the quieter side of Alderidge, where the streets curved like lazy rivers and the trees leaned close enough to whisper secrets. His house was warm - cream-colored walls, potted plants, and the faint smell of cinnamon.
The door swung open before I could knock.
A woman stood there, wiping her hands on a dish towel, curly blonde hair pulled into a bun. Her smile was instant.
"You must be Inara!"
"Uh-yes. Hi."
"I'm so glad you're here. I've heard so much about you."
I shot Elias a look as he appeared behind her. "You talk about me?"
"Only the good parts," he said quickly.
His mom laughed. "He said you were 'the only one in class who doesn't make me feel like an alien.'"
I blinked. "That's... oddly sweet."
Elias groaned. "Mom."
She just winked. "I'm making cookies. You two work hard, okay?"
As soon as she disappeared into the kitchen, I turned to him. "You told her about me?"
He shrugged, cheeks pink. "She asked who I sit with at lunch. I said your name. She ran with it."
"Ran a marathon with it," I muttered, setting my bag down.
His room looked exactly like him - cluttered, colorful, alive. There were posters of bands I didn't know, polaroids tacked on the wall, and two guitars leaning against a shelf overflowing with books.
He flopped onto the carpet and pulled out his laptop. "So. Music through the decades. You take the research side, I'll handle the creative part."
I smirked. "You mean you'll procrastinate while I panic."
"Exactly," he said cheerfully.
For the next hour, we tried to focus - tried being the key word. Half our time went into debating which decade had the best music ("80s, hands down," he insisted) and the other half into him teaching me a few guitar chords.
"Okay, now try again," he said, handing me the instrument. "Just G major."
"My fingers don't bend that way."
"Sure they do. You just have to-" He reached over, guiding my hand gently. His fingers brushed mine, and suddenly the world went very, very quiet.
I looked up. His eyes were smiling but soft, like he hadn't realized how close we'd gotten either.
"See?" he murmured. "Perfect."
"Totally. Except for the part where I can't feel my fingertips."
He laughed, leaning back. "You'll live."
Around five, his mom poked her head in. "Dinner's ready if you two want to stay."
"Oh, I don't-" I began, but Elias cut in. "She's staying."
Mrs. Rowan smiled knowingly. "Of course she is."
Dinner was warm and loud. His little brother, Marco, spent half the time showing me his superhero collection, and Mr. Rowan - a quiet man with kind eyes - asked what book I was reading lately.
Elias kept sneaking glances at me between bites, and once, when his mom teased him for talking too much, he shot me a grin that made my stomach flip.
After dessert, Mrs. Rowan handed me a small box. "Take some cookies home. Naomi will love them, right?"
"You remembered her name?" I said, surprised.
"Elias talks about her too. Says she's the 'miniature chaos version' of you."
I laughed. "That's... very accurate."
Outside, the air smelled like rain again. We stood on the porch steps, neither of us really wanting to say goodbye.
"Today was fun," I said softly.
"Yeah," he said. "Feels like... easy, you know?"
"It always does."
He looked at me for a long moment, eyes catching the porch light. "You're kind of dangerous, you know that?"
"Me?" I laughed. "How?"
"You make things matter."
My breath caught - and before I could reply, he smiled like he hadn't just wrecked my entire heart.
"See you Monday, Solace."
That night, I lay awake replaying the way his fingers had felt against mine, the warmth in his mother's voice, the laughter at dinner. Everything ordinary, but somehow golden.
And when I finally fell asleep, it was to the sound of his voice echoing in my mind - you make things matter.
End of Chapter Six
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