Mirabella eyed Vincent with a mix of amusement and impatience as he hemmed and hawed before her, a far cry from the unflappable, straight-shooting guy she was used to. "Spit it out, Vince," she urged, cutting through the awkward silence.
Vincent leaned back against the corridor's railing, drawing out another minute of silence before he got to the point. "My grandpa... he wants to take you on as an apprentice."
A twitch tugged at the corner of Mirabella's mouth. That stubborn old Donald hadn't given up on the idea?
Clearing his throat, Vincent, now sounding almost sheepish, which was rare for him, added, "You don't have to feel pressured. Just... give it some thought, okay?"
Mirabella was silent for a moment before replying, "I got it. I'll have a chat with your grandpa and set things straight."
"Alright, I'll see you later tonight," Vincent said, and with one last lingering glance at her, he was gone.
Mirabella headed back to class, barely settling into her seat when her phone buzzed from within her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw it was a message from Adler on Messenger.
[Hey boss, did you get my message last night? If not, I can resend it.]
Adler had been waiting for a response since the morning, plus through the lunch break at Parkside High School, and it was only now, with a bit of chagrin, that he reached out again.
He then copied and pasted his previous message, [Boss, any insights? How can we make this data seem a bit more ‘up to snuff?'], and hit send again.
Quick as a flash, Mirabella texted back. [No insights.]
Adler: [Seriously, I could use your help.]
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