Amy Fernandez slammed the cafe door behind her, letting out a low groan that could rival any dramatic telenovela scream. Community service, she muttered under her breath, glaring at the stacks of menus she had to organize. I hate this. I hate this so much.
She wiped a smear of spilled coffee off the counter and leaned against it, sighing loudly enough for anyone to hear. It wasn't just the tedious cleaning or the endless serving. No, it was the entire situation that made her stomach churn.
A few weeks ago, she had nearly gotten expelled from Greenwood Academy. Of course, she wouldn't admit it aloud—but it was a scandal she'd almost caused with a girl named Megan Lopez. The details were messy, but the school had finally decided: instead of expulsion, Amy and Megan would serve community service. Separate community service, the principal had said, as though distance could erase the tension between them.
And now, Amy was in a small coastal town, temporarily living with her grandmother, a woman whose reputation could crush empires, all while enduring hours of mandatory cleaning in a cafe that smelled like burnt croissants and stale coffee.
"Hi there!" a chirpy voice broke through her grumbling.
Amy barely glanced up. A girl, slightly taller than her, with a carefree smile and sun-kissed hair that bounced with every movement, was waving at her.
"I'm Tracy," the girl continued, undeterred by Amy's silence. "I'm also doing community service, but voluntary—y'know, helping out, giving back. Not like forced labor," she added with a grin.
Amy's eyes flickered briefly in acknowledgment. "Amy," she said flatly, returning to stacking cups.
Tracy laughed, undeterred by Amy's indifference. "Well, Amy, if you're not busy being grumpy all day, there's a beach party tonight. You should come!"
Amy didn't look up. "I'll try."
"You'll come," Tracy insisted, raising a finger. "I'll pick you up." And with that, she bounded away toward the counter, leaving Amy to sigh, loud and long. She rested her cheek against her hands, staring out the cafe's glass door. Long summer vacation, she muttered. Yeah, right.
By the time her community service ended, the sun had begun its lazy descent toward the horizon. Amy trudged back to her grandmother's mansion—a sprawling estate that looked more like a fortress than a home. Eliza Fernandez had once dominated boardrooms with ruthless efficiency; now, she ruled her household with the same iron will, tempered only by the occasional indulgence in her favorite telenovelas.
Amy found her grandmother sprawled on the living room sofa, eyes glued to the screen. "Seriously, Grandma? Again?" Amy groaned, shaking her head. "You watch these things like they're real life."
Eliza turned, feigning an innocent pout. "Oh, come now, my dear. These dramas have all the romance and intrigue of a real boardroom," she quipped, gesturing at the screen.
Amy rolled her eyes. "You do realize you used to destroy companies with your bare hands? Now you're here, falling for telenovelas?"
Eliza chuckled, a sly sparkle in her eye. "Some habits never die, darling. But enough about me—what about you? How was your day of forced good deeds?"
Amy recounted the beach party invitation, exaggerating her disinterest. Eliza leaned back, tapping a finger to her chin, eyes twinkling. "Hmm. Well… promise me you'll go. Just for a little while."
Amy hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. I'll go." She moved toward the stairs.
"Ah, but wait," Eliza added, voice softening. "Your brother called."
Amy froze mid-step, her expression hardening into ice. "Tell him I want nothing to do with him," she said flatly.
Eliza's eyes flickered, trying to reason with her, but Amy had already spun on her heel and left the room.
Eliza sighed, sinking back into her sofa. One day, she murmured, she'll stop letting the anger and pain control her.
Thirty minutes before Tracy was supposed to pick her up, Amy descended the grand staircase. She wore a flowing navy maxi dress, the fabric catching the breeze from the open windows. White sneakers gave her a casual edge, and a crossbody bag rested lightly against her hip. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled into a loose braid that draped over her shoulder, and minimal silver jewelry glinted faintly in the afternoon sun.
Eliza appeared at the door, smiling as Amy kissed her on the cheek. "Have fun," she said.
Amy waved before stepping out, unlocking her phone as it buzzed with a new message. One glance at the screen made her lips curl into a smirk.
Well, she thought, looks like I've got a new target.
The message disappeared, and Amy slid her phone back into her bag. The hunt had just begun. She smiled to herself once more, the sun glinting off the streets ahead, and stepped confidently into the evening. The door clicked shut behind her.