[u]Isabelle Chia[/u]
[u]Cafe[/u]

There was no denying it: Isabelle felt hopelessly lost. There was a smattering of people already in the cafe, chatting, drinking, looking utterly at home. She felt out of place, as though she had no right to be there. [i]Who am I to complain, though?[/i] she asked herself. She had let her parents down in the worst way, and if being sent away from home was to be her punishment, then she'd best take it into her stride. Even if it did make her miserable. Even if she missed the people she had left behind, without explanations.

For a few moments, all she could do was linger at the doorway, a sentinel standing guard, two hands gripping the strap of her bag like a vice. Isabelle's wide eyes swept the cafe, taking in a couple bent over a shared sundae, two young men having a talk, a girl with lank black hair who looked positively cornered by the boy who had approached her table. [i]I know none of them[/i], she thought, her heartbeat quickening gradually, [i]and they know not me[/i]. 

Her eyes slid back to the two men. She did a double-take, absorbing the way they interacted, the eye contact they shared. And Isabelle recalled her parents speaking about traditional relationships, their benefits, their normalcy. She remembered them insisting that, at the Academy, she would discover this for herself once more, in a conducive, healthy environment. [i]Oh, Father[/i], she thought faintly, seeing his towering face of concern looming over her. [i]How wrong you were this time.[/i] 

Recovering, Isabelle began to wend her way through the narrow aisle of tables and chairs, hoping to cross the room without incident and wedge herself firmly into a corner seat. Keeping her head down, she marched straight on, cheeks flushing with heat beneath the gentle glare of the ambient lighting. Isabelle slid into a seat, ordered a drink, and hid her face behind a book, feeling herself slowly come to terms with her new circumstances.