Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first time I saw him it was right after my final class of the day.

I was sat on the Green Line, glancing over my Nursing Assistant notes under the cold fluorescents. The infection control and patient transfer techniques swam through my mind but I wasn’t retaining a thing. It wasn’t like I was actually studying, it just felt better than staring at my phone.

I was a few stops from home, somewhere past Symphony and heading toward Riverway, when the train squealed to a halt at Museum of Fine Arts.

That’s when he got on.

He didn’t make a big entrance or anything, just slipped into the train car quietly like he’d done it a thousand times. He was wearing a neon green windbreaker and pastel pink sweatpants that seemed to have been splattered with what looked like clay, his hair-his green hair- was tied back into a short ponytail. He sat directly across from me, without sparing a glance my way, pulled out his phone.

And just like that I forgot how to read.

He has this beauty mark next to his mouth that might as well have been a sniper dot for how quickly it took me out. His expression wasn’t readable, not mean or menacing but a sort of “leave me alone” type of look. Just tired. Focused. Sharp jawline, strong nose, chipped pink and green nail polish. The outfit and the clay spots screamed art student.

I was staring. Of course I was staring.

He looked up. Our eyes met. Those eyes. Those incredible eyes. One a brown like a baby deers, the other a fierce amber piercing my soul.

“You got a problem, dude?”

Not even aggressive. Just flat. Like I was a bug buzzing in his peripheral.

I panicked. Dropping my notes and making a complete fool out of myself.

Good going, Magnus. Very suave.

I fumbled with my notes. Face on fire. I stood up and before I even realized what i was doing I was off the train at Brigham Circle.

Shit.

The train doors hissed shut behind me and I immediately regretted everything.

Not just the staring. Not just getting off early. Everything. Life choices. Existence. Whatever that was back there.

Well, shit. Guess I’m walking home today.

I shoved my notes into my backpack and started down Tremont like the sidewalk had done something to personally offend me. The city smelled like wet concrete and burnt coffee beans from the Dunkin across the street.

I passed Brigham and Women’s and got a nose full of that sterile hospital air. Great. Just what I needed. The universes fucked up way of reminding me that yes, i’m studying to wipe strangers asses for a living while having public breakdowns over beautiful green-haired strangers on the Green Line.

Awesome.

A bus screeched by and I jumped like I was in a horror movie. A couple laughed behind me. Cool. Everyone else was having a normal, romantic Boston evening, and I was out here speed-walking like that beautiful stranger could see me through the pavement and judge me from his clay throne.

The air got warmer near Egleston. Someone was cooking something heavenly and I hadn’t eaten since a granola bar at noon. I’ll eat something when I get home. A mural on the side of a convenience store caught my eye. Bright greens and blues and a face that kind of looked like his. I walked faster.

I kicked a pebble and it skittered into a storm drain.

The sun was just dipping behind the treetops when I finally turned onto our block. My legs felt like wet noodles. My brain had been screaming green hair and beauty mark for the last forty-five minutes. The emotional damage was permanent.

I hadn’t even gotten my key fully in the lock before the yipping started from the other side.

Thump. Thump-thump. Scratch

“BARK!”

The door swung open, not because I had unlocked up, but because Jack launched
himself full force into me.

“Jack— Dude—“

I barely caught him. He was already licking my face, paws on my chest attempting to get in all the scents i’ve dragged in from the outside.

“How did you open the door you don’t even have thumbs!”

Jack finally calmed down after a few belly rubs. I walked around him and tossed my bag down in the entryway.

“Hey” I mumbled as I entered the kitchen.

Blitzen looked up from the kitchen table, needle in hand, surrounded by fabric scraps and a half dozen half-finished custom pieces. “Hey, kid. You’re home late”

“Got off at the wrong stop” I mumbled

Which wasn’t totally a lie.

Blitz raised an eyebrow, but didn’t pry. That was one of the nice things about living with him and Hearth. They knew how to leave space when you need it.

Hearth glanced up from the couch, where he was sketching in a notebook. He gave me a small nod and sighed a quick greeting.

“Bad day?”

I shrugged and signed in response “Nothing crazy. Just… I don’t know.”

“You always know”

I snorted. “Fine. Just School and train and everything”

He gave me a thumbs-up, the Deaf equivalent of a pat on the back, and went back to drawing.

It was weirdly easy living with them. Hearth didn’t talk out loud, and Blitz mostly muttered to his fabric unless he was annoyed at me for not doing my laundry.

There wasn’t pressure to perform like there was in the other foster homes or shelters. No silent rules I was breaking without realizing. They were the first people who let me exist without judgement.

“Food’s in the fridge,” Blitz added, waving a hand toward the kitchen. “Enchiladas. Hearth made the rice.”

I mumbled, “Thanks,” and headed straight for my room.

Jack tried to follow, of course, but I shut the door before he could wedge his little nose in. He gave an offended whine and flopped down dramatically outside.

I collapsed on the bed and immediately regretted everything.

Chapter Text

I flopped onto my bed dramatically. I tried kicking off my shoes but I guess I had tied them too tight this morning. Why does the world hate me? I rolled myself over and attempted to bury my shame into my pillow.

“Why did I do that,” I mumbled into the fabric. “Why did I stare. Why am I the way that I am.”

You know sometimes the self pity makes me feel just slightly better.

A muffled whimpering came from the hallway. Jack, still camped outside my door, gave a huff like yeah, why did you do that.

I turned onto my back and stared at the dust on my ceiling fan like it had answers. Man I should really clean that. Gross. Sadly there was no ancient knowledge to be gained from the fan dirt.

I ran through the whole thing in my mind. The train. The notes. The beautiful stranger. That look. The “you got a problem, dude?” like he was some weirdo trying to pick a fight and not just...gazing longingly at art school perfection. God.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

TJ: “yo hop on fortnite or perish”

Another buzz.

Mallory: “we need u to carry halfborn before he ragequits again”

Halfborn: “IM NOT RAGEQUITTING I JUST HAVE A BLOOD FEUD WITH BUILD MODE”

I sighed. My room was dark, the only light coming from the street posts outside my window. My brain was flooded with fog and embarrassment, maybe gaming with my friends would shut off the noise for a bit.

I picked up the device and shot back a quick text.

Magnus: “k, gimme 5”

I pulled my laptop out and pulled on my headset. Jack barked again from the hallway.

“Not now,” I called back. “This is for my mental health.”

After my computer finally booted up, I opened Discord and dropped in the call.

“There he is. Took you long enough Chase” Mallory’s voice cracked into my ears.

“We started without you, ended about the way you’d imagine” Halfborn spouted back.

“Guys. Chill. I was at school, I sadly don’t have the liberty of sitting on my ass all day” I groan as I join their party.

I hear a laugh from TJ.

“Halfborn blew up a gas station and got us all killed”

Mallory groaned at the memory and Halfborn replied.

“I stand by my choice.i It was epic.”

“Epically stupid!” Mallory barked

The argument continued until we started the round. We played pretty good, mostly being carried by TJ and his sniper skills and we managed to make it to the final 20.

TJ was driving like a straight up maniac, Mallory set traps in a barn, and Halfborn screamed about the inclosing storm. I mostly focused on reviving people and pinging loot, zoning out into the rhythm of it.

It was the most normal I felt all day. The days events felt like a distant memory.

I could hear Jack snoring outside my door like a small chainsaw. Downstairs I heard the clank of dishes in the skin and the soft footsteps of my dads. I felt a sense of calm that eased my mind about the days events.

Eventually I realized how late it was and decided to turn in for the night.

“Alright, I gotta be up at stupid o’clock. Imma head off”

“That’s cool man, see you tomorrow” TJ responded

The other two said their fair wells and I left the call. Shutting my computer, I pulled my headrest off and laid back in the dark.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. My brain flooded back with flashes of green and pink.

I shook my head. I don’t know why it bothered me so much. It wasn’t like i’d ever seen him again.

These thoughts saw me off to sleep.

Chapter Text

I have never claimed to be a morning person. Especially not the get-up-at-the-ass-crack-of-dawn, type of morning person.

I woke up to the sound of Jack howling outside my door to be let outside. You know sometimes I hate that stupid dog because 5 am is a completely asinine wake-up time. But the yipping and howling persisted so I got my sorry self out of bed and out the door.

There I was, in the cold early-may morning, sun barely touching the horizon, and me in my boxer-shorts and a hoodie from my highschool track team, watching my dog take a shit on the sidewalk outside my apartment. This is my life.

After 10 minutes of freezing my ass off, Jack was finally done. Looking at the clock I decided that i might as well just get ready for class if I was already awake. Even if it was 5 am.

The shower was quick and to the point. I stood infront of the mirror, wiping away the steam. My hair was a lot longer than it usually was, falling down to my shoulders. Man I need I haircut badly. Whatever. My teeth get brushed and so does my hair.

I threw on my only other pair of scrubs I could find, then layered on a zip-up jacket on top even tho I knew i’d be sweating as soon as I got to the train stop. Boston weather seriously has no chill. Or maybe too much chill.

Jack pranced up to me as I picked up my bag, throwing my waterbottle and a granola bar for later in the pocket. He gave me that sad tortured look he always gave me when I had to leave. Like it was a personal attack on him that I have a life outside of him.

“Don’t look at me like that” I said “Blitz will be up soon, you’ll live.”

He dropped to the floor like this comment had mortally wounded him.

The train was empty for once, so I scored a corner seat and stuck in my earbuds. Scrolling through my playlist nothing in particular caught my eye. I just queued up some horror podcast TJ had recommended, something about haunted hospitals. Seems appropriate.

Everytime we rolled into a new stop, I caught myself looking up, glancing towards the door. Just in case.

That’s stupid.

Still some small part of me had a spec of hope that I would see a flash of green hair. A glint of those, what do you call them? Homophobia eyes? No. Whatever they were called, I held that wish for some cosmic subway coincidence to show me that perfect stranger once again.

But it never happened.

The universe is cruel like that.

By the time I got to campus, the sun was actually doing its job and warming the morning up. I cut through the grass, which crunched under my feet with frozen dew, and nodded at a couple other students dragging themselves toward the Allied Health building like we were all heading to our doom. United in suffering.

The classes were never long, usually an hour or two of lecture then the rest of the time we practiced what we learned on medical dummies.

Our instructor today was Mr. Levine, who looked like he should have retired a long time ago but probably didn’t want to sit at home watching trashy reality shows all day. His polo shirt was tucked into crisp khakis, and he had those tan orthopedic shoes that screamed I stand for long periods of time but I’m judging you for slouching.

“Vitals lab on Thursday,” He said, tapping the whiteboard which woke up some of the sleepers in the back. “Pulse, respiration, temperature, blood pressure. Don’t screw it up. This isn’t Grey’s Anatomy. If your patient dies because you couldn’t read a thermometer, that’s on you.”

“Always a Positive Polly” someone mumbled behind to me.

I took notes. Or I least I attempted too. I’d write down a few bullet points, then my mind would slip off into thoughts of brown and amber eyes.

Snap out of it Chase.

This is pathetic.

I shook away the thought. This wasn’t highschool. I wanted to keep living with Blitz and Hearth without being a total freeloader, I had to get certified. Get a job, start earning money.

And I wasn’t half bad at this stuff, honestly. Once it came to the hands-on skills, I was way better than most of my class at remembering steps and staying calm under pressure. I could do this.

I had to do this.

Chapter Text

Two weeks went by with the same routine.

Class, notes, chilling mornings, Jack waking me up at ungodly hours. Blitz packing me snacks like I was in grade school. Hearths encouraging signs of “Get more sleep” whenever I nodded off into my cereal bowl.

And every day on the Green Line, I’d look up when we stopped at the Museum of Fine Arts, my heart beat with anticipation and stupid hope. Every day, it wasn’t him.

Eventually I stopped hoping. It was stupid anyways. A random stranger that I have a small obsession with. This was a perfect time for my friends to drag me out of my Hobbit hole and hang loose for a change.

It was a Friday night and Halfborn had declared a mandatory hangout at his place, his place being a studio apartment in Allston that always smelled vaguely of musk and old pizza rolls. The kind of place with milk crates as furniture and a saggy pullout couch that no one wanted to sleep on but somehow always did.

TJ brought chips, Mallory brought takeout from our favourite Mexican place, and I brought Jack because Blitz said “He needed socialization.” Jack spent most of the time begging for food scraps and attempting to be a lap dog. Despite being 30 pounds.

We sat on the floor, passed around a cheap six-pack and argued about if Halfborn could beat a silverback gorilla in a fight (he could not), if fish get thirsty (maybe?), and many other idiotic things.

It was stupid. It was loud. It was nice.

At some point during this, Mallory turned to me. “Alright Chase, got any dark secrets? Skeletons in the closet or tragic romances to confess?”

Everyone looked to me. I took a drink of my beer to stall.

Then I said it.

“Okay, maybe i’ve been kind of obsessed with this guy I saw on the T.”

The others exploded.

This was apparently the most interesting thing they’ve heard come out of me.

You see I don’t usually dabble in the romantics, just never really had any interest I guess. Well, there was that one time in 10th grade but that was more embarrassing than anything.

“You saw a guy?”
“Was he hot?”

“Mallory’s definition of hot shouldn’t be trusted, I mean look at Halfborn” TJ laughed.

This resulted in a shove from Halfborn and a punch from Mallory.

I held up my hands. “Okay, look! I don’t even know who this guy is! I saw him once, like, two weeks ago. Green hair. Art school type. He sat across from me and didn’t even look at me. But I’ve been thinking about him ever since.”

Mallory pointed at me. “You’re in love with a train ghost!”

“He’s probably just doesn’t take the train often that’s all.” TJ tried to sound kind.

“Or,” Halfborn added “he sensed your strange stalker vibe and switched lines”

“Screw you, dude” I said, flipping him the bird.

We all laughed at my pathetic excuse for a love life and the night moved on. Someone turned the radio to the top 40 station. Jack howled along. The music was turned off.

Eventually my friends passed out in a pile on the floor. I turned off the video essay we had been watching, some deep dive on some internet thing (don’t ask), and left Halfborns place, Jack in tow.

I walked to the nearest train station, still buzzed from the night’s activities, and managed to catch the last train home.

As I sat on the train trying to stay awake, I couldn’t keep the image out of my head. Green locks. That killer look. That impossible beauty.

Who the hell was he?

Chapter Text

The restaurant was one of those little hole in the wall places you only know if you’ve lived in the area long enough. The food was good and fancy enough to be deemed a “nice” place, but cheap enough for us broke college kids. Samira had pick it, mostly because it was close to her apartment in Dorchester. Sam wasn’t to big on birthdays but Amir had made the reservation and told us all to come.

I showed up 10 minutes late. I’d like to make the excuse of being fashionable late, because Jack had thrown up in my shoe and it took me another 20 minutes to find another pair, but I look my losses and apologized for my tardiness.

“Magnus!” Samira waved me over to the table in the back. The table was set with half finished appetizers and familiar faces. TJ, Halfborn, Mallory, and Amir. He sat beside Sam.

“Happy Birthday, Sammy.” I say jokingly, knowing she loathes that nickname. I handed her a card i’d made for her.

Sam smirked. “Thanks. You’re lucky i’m so nice, or I would’ve uninvited you for that one.”

“You quite literally texted me saying, ‘if you don’t show up i’ll cry’, like a day ago.”

“That was a bluff.”

Amir leaned over. “It was definitely not.”

Everyone laughed, devouring what was left of the appetizers and telling funny stories from high school. Like when Halfborn got stuck in a football locker while trying to prove a point, or when Sam caught the table on fire in chemistry. The food was good, the mood was chill, and everyone was having a great time.

I had been wondering why we hadn’t actually ordered food yet and I was about to ask Sam, when the restaurant door flew open.

“Alex! Nice of you to finally show up!” Samira called to the stranger walking in.

It was him.

It was the green hair stranger that had consumed my every waking thought for the last few weeks.

He looked around, saw Samira waving, and headed over.

“Sorry i’m late,” he said, sliding into the empty seat across from me. “Studio ran long and I had to finish glazing a piece.”

My heart was in my throat. I think i’m gonna throw up?

Close up, he was even more stunning. Wait, he? I’m going to tell you the truth, I couldn’t exactly tell this subway stranger’s gender when I first saw him. I just kind of assumed. But now I was unsure all over again. She maybe? Anyway I was in complete awe. The face I was making was probably insanely stupid.

“Guys, this is my sister, Alex.” Sam said

I was definitely staring. Alex turned her head and slowly looked right at me.

“I’ve seen you before,” She said, cocking her head to the side. “Where do you go to school?”

I opened my mouth. Then closed it. And opened it again. Probably looking like a damn fish. “Um… Well i’m not technically in school. Just taking nursing assistant classes… At Bunker Hil.”

Alex nodded slowly. “Right. The train. You were on the Green Line.”

I had never wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole more than in that moment.

“Oh, yeah. That was me… Ha ha”

I didnt believe in any kind of god but if there was one this had to be some cruel punishment from them.

Alex gave me that wasn’t totally unjudgemental, but definitely had an edge. “You were staring.”

“I wasn’t- I mean- I didn’t mean to-“

Mallory laughed. “Oh my god”

TJ leaned in, a stupid grin on his face. “Bro. You were staring.”

I attempted to bury my burning face in my hands. “I have to leave the country.”

“Relax,” Alex said, shaking her head. “It was kind of flattering. I get stares all the time. I just didn’t expect to see you again.

I blinked. “I, uh. Cool…”
Cool? COOL? God why am I this way?

Sam tired to soothe the awkwardness but just added to the fire. “So you two know eachother?”

Alex gave me a sideways glance. “Sort of.”

I gave Sam a kind of ‘what the hell’ look. “I’ve seen her around.” I mumbled. I avoided eye contact with everyone and developed a sudden interest in the hole in my jeans.

Merciful, the conversation moved on. Amir asked Sam about her flight classes, Halfborn was attempting to order one of every appetizer, Mallory was trying to stop him, and TJ was finding that predicament
hilarious. I felt so out of it. I don’t know why but the embarrassment stayed. Every so often, I snuck a glance across the table.

The freckles on her face. The way her hands moved when he talked, expressive and animated. Charisma poured from this girl.

‘Magnus, stop.’ I told myself ‘Just play it cool. You’re a grown-ass man. Stop asking like a school girl.’

Then Alex looked up and caught me again.

She gave me this look I couldn’t put into words, but my heart did a whole gymnastics routine that would’ve probably scored a 10.

Get it together man.

Chapter Text

Setting into my desk chair, I was ready to hop online and play whatever game my friends had in store for tonight. It has been an insufferably long day of clinical jargon and bedside manner training. I needed to chill out for a while.

I had spent the past ten minutes aimlessly scrolling Instagram as I waited for my laptop to charge. Jack snored at my feet, only being interrupted by the occasional sleep-woof.

My phone buzzed.

Looking at the banner at the top of my screen, my heart shot to my throat.

a.fierro started following you.

I screamed.

Like a little girl kind of scream.

Jack woke up barking, ready to fight the danger. But the only danger I was in was dangerously close to passing out.

I shut off my phone. Surely it was something I had imagined and I was just overreacting.

But, no. When I opened the app again, my follower count had gone up by one and there it was. The person in the profile picture was undeniably Alex.

The green-haired art student who had ambushed my every waking thought and three days ago was introduced to me as Samiras sister. That Alex.

This was NOT happening.

“Dude. What. Why?” I whispered to myself like a lunatic.

My fingers trembled as I tapped her profile.

Photos flooded the screen. Hands messy with clay, ceramic studios, vibrant and wild self portraits, candid shots with friends. It felt tasteful curated like an art gallery. A glimpse into a world i’ve only seen from a distance.

I kept scrolling, each photo pulled me deeper into this stranger’s world. A strange who would’ve probably paid me no mind, but for some reason she did. She followed me. But why?

Looking at my own profile, I was slightly embarrassed.

It was nowhere near as aesthetic pleasing as Alex’s was.

The only picture of my face was from my high school graduation, an awkward shot of me holding up my diploma flashing an ‘I don’t wanna be here’ smile. Almost all of the other photos are either of Jack or my various outdoors adventures.

Should I follow her back?

What is the proper social media edict when it comes to these things?

I debated this for a moment, if I instantly followed her back that would make seem weird.

I decided the best plan of action was to wait. But Jack had other plans.

He jumped into my lap, making me drop my phone. As I fumbled for the device, the follow button was click.

“What the hell, Jack!” I shooed him away.

There goes my attempt at nonchalant-ness.

I try to think nothing of it and see that my laptop was finally booted up. None of my friends are online so I look through my list of solo player games. I’m about to load up Red Dead Redemption II, when I get another buzz from my phone.

A new message.

Oh no.

From Alex.

I felt my face heat up. I fumbled to open the message, but my phone wouldn’t recognize my face ID. Stupid technology!

Finally, I read the message.

“Hey. Your dog is adorable. Also hope I didn’t come off as rude at Sam’s party. Just didn’t expect to see you there.”

My brain short circuited.

I sat and stared at the message for what felt like hours. Then I remembered she could probably see that I had read the message and typed out a reply:

“Haha thanks, Jack is pretty great. And no it was whatever I didn’t take anything personal lol”

I sound like a dork.

After two agonizing minutes of typing, her reply came.

“Good. Anyways I just wanted to say hi without making it super awkward”

How do you even respond to that? I guess it really didn’t need one.

I set my phone down and looked around like I woke up from a weird dream.

Im so totally screwed.

Over the next few days, my life became a balancing act of excitement and panic.

I wanted to message Alex back, but I didn’t want to make it seem like I was desperate to talk to her.

I wanted to focus in class but I was distracted by the glow of my phone.

Never before had I acted or felt this way and people started to notice.

TJ interrogated me when we were hanging out one day.

“Dude, what’s with the thousand-yard stare? You look like you’re about to lose it.”

I blinked, caught in the act.

“It’s nothing,” I said trying to avoid the inevitable questions.

TJ raised an eyebrow.

“Come on. Spill.”

I sighed.

“Okay, so… Alex followed me on Instagram.”

TJ’s eyes went wide.

“Wait. Like, Samiras sister Alex?”

“That’s the one.”

His grin was infectious.

“That’s awesome. You’ve got a foot in the door now.”

I moaned.

“That’s terrifying. You know i’m no good at these kinds of things.”

TJ laughed.

“Just be yourself. Or, you know, your best ‘not an awkward mess’ self”

Later that night, I tried drafting half a dozen replies to Alex.

None of them good.

I deleted all of them.

Instead, I decided to post a story of Jack chasing his tail, captioned “Currently spiraling but Jack doesn’t give a shit.”

To my surprise, Alex replied with a laughing emoji.

I could feel my face heat up.

Man, I’m already done for.

Chapter Text

hey yall!! it’s been a minute!! so basically I started college and now I’m basically living this fic irl so some things will change simply because I want it to be more accurate and also just because I want to. Anyways i’m loving bean town and I promise a chapter is coming thank yall so much for the support!!!

Chapter Text

It wasn’t unusual for Samira to text me out of the blue with a simple “coffee?” and for me to show up twenty minutes later at our usual place. It was kind of our thing.

So when my phone buzzed on a Thursday afternoon and the single word popped up on my screen, I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my bag, gave Jack a good scratch, and left the apartment.

The cafe was a bit far but it was worth the trip. The Thinking Cup was a small spot on Newberry Street between some fancy designer shops. It smelled of fresh pastries and espresso beans, the kind of place that made you want to stay awhile. A bell above the door dinged as I stepped in.

Samira was already there, of course, sitting near the window with her laptop and a half-drunk chai latte next to it. She wore a deep blue hijab today, the fabric neat but with a casual look that said she’d been studying for hours. Her posture was straight, expression focused, but her eyes lit up when she saw me.

“Magnus,” she smiled “You came.”

“You say that like I’d ever turn down caffeine.” I slid into the chair across from her and dropped my backpack to the floor. “Besides, I needed an excuse to avoid my anatomy notes.”

She tilted her head. “You’re really going through with this nursing assistant thing, huh?”

“Yeah.” I felt a bit awkward “I mean it’s not glamorous, but it’s… stable. People will always need healthcare. And Blitz and Hearth don’t have infinite money, no matter how much they pretend to otherwise.”

Samira closed her laptop, giving me her full attention.

“You’re good with people,” she said simply “Even if you don’t think so. I think you’ll be great at it.”

I shrugged. I don’t really know how to take a compliment, if I’m being honest. I appreciated it nonetheless.

We sat for a moment in the silence, it wasn’t awkward or anything it was just silence. At some point, I got up and ordered an iced matcha latte. When I got back, the silence lasted until Samira spoke again.

“So, what’s new?”

I stared at the condensation on her latte cup, trying to think of anything but that strange who I now know is Sam’s sibling.

“Nothing much,” I replied “School, Jack, the gang. Just the usual stuff.”

Samira raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

“Why? You got some secret intel on my life that I don’t know about?” I said back.

“Maybe,” She smiled, taking a sip of her drink.

I rolled my eyes and moved my attention to the window. The people on the sidewalk provided a great distraction. I caught my reflection in the mirror. Not a face that I particularly liked to see, I definitely needed a haircut.

Sam put her cup down. “You seem distracted.”

I snapped back to reality. “Huh? Oh, no I’m fine.”

“I’m sure.”

I hated how she said that. It was like she already knew the answer but she was giving me space to let me say it myself.

If you want to know the truth, my brain has been replaying the night of Sam’s birthday dinner. The moment Alex walked through the door. The way Samira had introduced her to me, unknowingly set off a nuclear bomb in my life. From that day I hadn’t been able to get Alex out of my head.

But there was no way I was ready to say all that.

So I just shrugged. “Just tired. Late nights studying, you know how it is.”

Samira studied me. Her knowing stare was relentless.

"Oh, I know." She nodded slowly. "Those late nights can be relentless"

I laughed. "That's one way to put it.”

Our conversation drifted after that. We
talked about school, Sam's brutal
aerospace program that involved more math than I could ever handle and I complained about the hours of medical jargon that I only half understood. We joked about our high school chemistry teacher, our families, and any other thing that came up. Just two good friends catching up on each other's lives.

Once again we sat in silence. I stirred my matcha absentmindedly, watching the foam mix in with the rest of the drink. My mind wandered, conjuring images of Alex from the abyss. Goddamnit.

Those eyes. The way his hands moved when he was telling a story, so sure and expressive. The look he had given me when he caught me staring. Sharp, amused, and not at all forgiving.

I shook my head, trying to erase the thoughts like an Etch-A-Sketch.

Sam’s eyes flicked in my direction. She didn’t say anything, but the corner of her mouth curved just slightly. Like she had caught something I didn’t mean to show.

I buried my face in my hands. “Don’t start”

“I didn’t say anything,” she replied, feigning innocence.

“Yeah, well, don’t.”

Her smile widened a fraction, but she let it go. She started telling me about her group project instead, how one of her classmates thought “wing design” was just about making something cool, not making it, you know, fly.

I laughed so hard, matcha almost came out of my nose.

The afternoon stretched on. Stories and laughter fill the time. The hum of the cafe around us provides a backing track. At one point, Sam’s phone buzzed with a text. She glanced at it, shot back a quick reply, and placed it back on the table. Her face gave nothing away, but I knew she was up to something.

I tried not to think about it.

By the time we left, the sun was beginning to set over the city. The sky was painted in picturesque pinks and oranges.

“We’ve got to get the gang together soon, it’s been a while since we’ve done anything,” Samira said.

I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. “Yeah, definitely.”

She gave a small smile, one of those knowing smiles that made me feel like she was beating me at a game I didn’t even know I was playing.

“I’ll arrange something then.”

And that was it.

We said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I headed towards the Copley T Station with my head down and earbuds in. That whole way back, I could shake it feeling that Samira knew exactly what was going on in my head. And that was a very scary thought.