o2.
chapter two
the brown-eyed delivery boy.

I had a love-hate relationship with summer. Don't get me wrong—I love, love, love the hot breeze, the humid atmosphere, the cicadas within the woods, sunbathing in your house without the celestial body. You name it. 

But there was something within the blurred confines of my mind that made summer all the more melancholic. Something tied to my childhood. Something I couldn't forget. 

A scream. A familiar—but now so foreign—hand slipping into mine. The crowd gathered around me. 

"Serena!" 

I woke with a start. 

"We're going to the marketplace to buy souvenirs for your Dad's colleagues."

Dabbing at my eyes, I found Mom at the makeup table, slapping some powder onto her rosy cheeks. It didn’t take me too long to catch up on the day. 

"I'm not going," I whined, running a hand over my face. "Dad can drive, right?"

"It's not about acting as a chauffeur, Serena," she said, the strange sternness that only came with talking about Pallet creeping back into her voice. "It's about making new memories here."

I sat up, straightening my hair. "My muscles ache." It was not a complete lie. "I drove for three hours!"

"And your dad, four."

It was a fact. From Goldenrod to Saffron to Celadon to Pallet. I was almost done by the time we reached this quaint little town on the countryside of Kanto. 

"Mom~" 

"Your uncle Meyer, Clemont, and Bonnie are tagging along too," she said, turning to me with a defeated sigh. "Are you sure you'll be okay alone? I haven't made breakfast either because Dad suggested dining out."

"I'll be fine!" I reassured her, stretching and standing up. The roll bed on the floor gave me a headache to tidy, but there was no other way. Oh, to have the easy city life even on vacation.

Mom did some final touches and stood up. "Okay then. I'll see you in a few hours, hun?"

I nodded and finished making the covers piled up near the others before following her out of the room. Dad was sitting on the sofa with Bonnie, while Uncle Meyer and Clemont stood against the wall. Although the others smiled (knowing me too well), Bonnie shot me a disapproving look. 

"I really thought you would come, Serena!" she protested as I tousled her hair and righted her hair clip. "I don't wanna go without you!" 

"You gotta go," I whispered. 

The girl pouted. She was nearly my height but still had a little more growing to do to reach my chest. 

"I'll spend the evening with you and Clemont if you do, okay?"

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

I watched them leave from the balcony before heading to the bathroom to freshen up. 

Pallet was a small countryside town on the outskirts of Kanto. It was still a rural village, meaning the houses here were standalones rather than the towering apartments I was used to in Goldenrod. 

Yet, for some reason, I did feel at home here. 

After brushing and taking a short shower—thanks to my grumbling stomach—I made my way to the kitchen. The only things the refrigerator held were raw ingredients. That left me regretting not reading between the lines of Mom's statement: she didn’t make breakfast. 

The only other option to save my lazy self from cooking was to order takeout. But, hey! My luck was rotten, and the only franchise food center I found nearby was Shake Shack. 

I ordered a pack of bacon cheddar fries and a strawberry shake for the sake of my stomach’s sanity. It was embarrassing to have a growling organ. 

"I knew it, I know you, I called you~! And I think you waited—wait, uh, earnestly—ugh!"

Jamming the delete button, I flipped my phone away onto the bed. I *sucked* at karaoke and was only embarrassing myself with Gracie Abrams’ songs. 

Ding dong!

Great. Food.

Jumping off the bed in a very un-ladylike manner that would have my mom’s head hung in the sewers, I sprinted to the front door. 

That was the start of lazy-as-a-sloth Serena Yvonne turning into a protagonist. 

I blinked at the brown pair of eyes staring at me. He blinked back. 

"Uh, thank you?" I tried, reaching out for the bag. 

It took the delivery boy a moment before he snapped out of whatever trance he was in and handed over my takeout. 

A strangely awkward silence settled between us, broken only by a crow cackling for water in the parched weather. I gulped, hoping he didn’t hear my hammering heart. 

"Do I know you?" I blurted out almost inexplicably. 

The boy blinked again. Was he mentally slow?

But then there was a flicker of recognition, followed by something I couldn't quite place. Maybe I had seen it a few moments ago. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out where. 

"Uh," he stuttered, pulling his hat down. "Many say so. No. I don't think so."

But I saw him look at me like he was burning for me—

"Right." I took a step back, reaching for the door. 

The boy bowed again before turning on his heel. However, I caught him stealing a glance over his shoulder before he vanished out of my line of vision. 

"Chemical override," I mumbled, slamming the door shut. 

That reminded me that I wasn’t home in Goldenrod. Because the freaking house nearly shook from the impact.

Cursing physics, I slumped down onto the sofa and tore the brown bag open. The rumbles of my stomach had significantly subsided when I found the fries neatly packed in a tetra pack. 

My thoughts raced back to the delivery boy. He didn’t look much older than me—perhaps a year or two older. Perhaps Clemont’s age. 

Where had I seen those brown eyes before?

Taking out my phone, I began jotting down notes so that my aphantasia wouldn’t take over. 

- Brown eyes.
- Black messy hair.
- Bangs that fell over from under his cap.
- Odd marks on his cheeks.
- Works at Shake Shack. Delivered bacon cheddar fries and a strawberry shake.

I sat back, trying to piece together the puzzle of strange familiarity that was gnawing at me. 

There weren’t many people I would know from Pallet, seeing as it had been five or so years since I last set foot here. Where do I know him from?

Scrolling through my phone aimlessly didn’t help the growing unease either. The fries were warm, and the shake was just sweet enough to distract me for a moment. 

But thoughts of those brown eyes came flooding back, and I found myself cursing the fact that the hue was apparently eluding my inability to form visual images. Was he from some dream?

I was on my last fries, almost half-convinced I was blending dreams and reality together and going insane when I heard the sound of a car pull up. 

Pushing my phone into the couch’s cushions, I rose to my feet and wiped my clammy palms on my jeans, willing myself to act normal. 

No more delivery boys, no more thoughts of brown things, I repeated mentally, weaving through the living room to the front door. No more delivery boys!

The minute I reached for the doorknob, I was convinced I was going bonkers. 

A faded ghost of my past flashed in my memory. 

Undiluted screams. A warm hand turning cold in my grip. The fields and the bleeding sunset over the small hill overlooking Pallet. A throaty voice calling out my name... 

Serena.

I froze. The metal of the doorknob had darkened. The air thickened. 

Could it be that I was mixing memories with trauma? 

Most importantly... 

Was that boy somebody I knew?

Had I really been there too?