Random, out-of-the-blue events like these did not need any more hurricanes. They were a disaster in itself, the furious kind—and yet the intellectual in me had ignited the fury and let it seep in through the shallow cracks of dawn. Because Stella Reyes was here, eyes big and bright, legs folded on the other side of my bed. And her biggest conundrum wasn't the fact that we were choosing to spend this time over to my place instead of us being at school—it was the fact that I had been too late telling her about it.

"Shut up," came Chloe's brilliant response. Of course, she was here too; they were practically attached by the hip. She tied her blonde waves behind her shoulders and huffed, in her hands a cup of coffee. "Seriously, though, I didn't expect you to bunk. That too, without informing us."

I rolled my eyes. "You did get to know, and then invited yourselves over with no regard for me. I can't believe my own mother took your side the second she saw you."

Stella picked twenty-dollars from her stack and shoved it in my face. "She gets it, unlike you. And don't blame me, I thought you were mourning and had to be by your side."

"Mourning?" The board game sprawled on the entirety of my bed—The Game of Life—shifted when I did, and two of the plastic cars toppled straight onto the floor. Chloe facepalmed, and the action was only followed by all her cash dramatically falling down with some plastic buildings. "What in the world about?"

I was trying, hard, not to find logic in everything today had already managed to bring. It was utterly futile, because it couldn't reverse all that had happened in the early hours of morning. How I'd dropped a text saying I won't be attending school, and how they'd shown up at my house fifteen minutes later. All the decisions I had made up till this exact moment, in my whole seventeen years of being, had led to this.

Which only made me think: what kind of decisions had I been making, which resulted in a board game marathon at 7 A.M?

Stella smacked my head lightly. "Thinking how you got so lucky so early in the morning? I'd visit you every morning if you say the word, babe."

"I never recall asking you for morning visits, you dumbass," I stared at her, and then moved my car piece three spaces forward. "And no one's mourning. Why are we playing this game, anyway?"

Chloe brought her knees closer to her face, and then smiled. Her eyelashes were lined thick with exhaustion, I noticed, but was only left to wonder why. "You've been distant lately, so we thought we'd hangout. Just us, though. The guys are a menace."

The words took their sweet time to register and make coherence, but the warmth that spread through my chest was reflexive and a bright, glowing thing. Had I been distant? Being too wrapped up in my own head could result in that, and I wouldn't realize. Times like these were perhaps when I needed to be anchored, brought back to the shore—but I'd let my personal sanity, a friend who was sister-like, walk away months ago. There wasn't any reason to dwell on things I had done consciously.

"Especially that ginormous pain in the ass. He seems to get a hold of you before us every time, too," Stella sighed, and her comment made me snap back into the conversation with a light laugh. I rose my eyebrows amidst chuckles in genuine inquisition, but she'd already continued. "Don't give me that look when you're well aware."

Somehow, the warmth remained, but uneasiness coiled itself around my ribcage.

"I've not been hanging out with him any more than we're all used to." Okay, maybe I have. Just maybe. Due to certain circumstances. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'd spot a liar like you from miles away," Chloe rolled her eyes, and in her scrutiny stood tremendous amounts of confidence, something I didn't quite appreciate. "And don't get us wrong, he's been decent so far. We're just apprehensive because, well. . .it's a guy."

I found humor in her sentence until it hit me, and then: Wait, what? My eyebrows scrunched. "I'm not—"

"But if he tries something funny, he's so dead. I'll beat him up," Stella remarked, and Chloe didn't hold a candle to the look in her eyes. The air in the room almost reeked of bloodthirst. My mind still spun trying to keep up with what they kept spewing out of their mouths.

"Unless. . .you want something to happen. I'd never know."

I...what? My wide eyes fell over every object in our vicinity, buying me the time needed to switch my gaze into a sharp glare. Want what to happen, exactly? "Quit messing with me, idiots. I've got no idea what you're on about."

And I really didn't. All I knew was that Evan was being mentioned, and my heartrate had picked up.

Chloe had discarded her coffee to the side, undivided attention falling right on me—as if I had to do all the talking from here on, all while they gave me severe whiplash. I sighed. "Let's backtrack. I don't think I'm following you."

"Or, you're choosing not to," Chloe hummed. "It's either that you're super dense or super smart, Laura, and I don't know which one is worse."

"What even—"

"Whatever it is, you can't stay untrue to yourself for long, can you?" Stella winked, but nothing about it was friendly. The words barely made sense, and it might've been because I was too focused to not meet any of their gazes. "I think I know you enough to say that."

"I'm getting serious brain damage from this conversation," I managed to mutter, but uneasiness had managed to settle at the bottom of my stomach. "If you have something to say, spit it out already."

Truth was, bitterness sat on my tongue, indigestible. But one thing was a surety: I'd forcefully let my head stop formulating thoughts for a while now, because as long as my own feelings remained a muddle of incoherence, I would remain unscathed.

Which meant another thing. One which could—would—wreck even sinners and Gods alike. One which needed thinking, the exact kind I was running away from.

"I don't want you having a heart attack with all the brain damage I've already caused," Stella had smirked. "Figure it out on your own, genius. And while you're at it, pick out a movie, too."

I smiled despite my heart succumbing to chaos. "You say that as if it's not going to be Tangled this time, too."

▂

The Coffee Business became an aid the second I got the hang of it.

It wasn't super crowded in the evenings, but not devoid of people, either. The safe little haven whose atmosphere only comprised of the wafting scent of bread and caffeine sat somewhere pleasantly in the middle, a time too perfect to focus on just one task: serving food. It was a break from school, endless assignments, and my overthinking head, leading me to think that evenings could easily comprise of this and I wouldn't dare to complain.

Sometimes I'd be on the verge of spilling drinks and food all over the place, but then my basketball instincts would kick in, and I'd be the hero that saved the day.

Maya had come over and told me to be on the counter to take orders. Beside me stood Blake, the only other co-worker working the same shift as me, eyes drawn to a specific spot with an unwavering gaze. The second I was introduced to him, two things were already established. One: his gaze was thunder-like. Two: he was just as awkward with first-interactions, if not more. I had decided to believe he was a genuine person the second his eyes met mine.

"What are you staring so intently at?" I leaned on the wood of the counter, eyes not leaving the machine in front of me. Two more items to table four, one to table five. An hour more, and I'll be done. Blake shuffled beside me, elbows knocking with mine. "Has that dude. . .even placed an order?"

My eyes shot up, following his trail, only to be met with a guy furiously typing on his laptop like his life depended on it. Clad in a beige turtleneck and hair a disoriented mess, I was sure he was almost unaware of his surroundings, only making me wide-eyed.

Liam. What in the world was he doing here?

Blake snorted. "For him to be seated there so casually—the least you can do is order a coffee if you're going to sit and work in a café."

My lips quirked up. "Yeah, about that, I—"

"Don't think that I don't know him. He goes to the same college as me. Are all English majors this high and mighty, or—"

I cut him off. "Looks like he's got something to say."

And he did. The high and mighty guy had walked up to us, eyes fixated solely on me with a glare that could possibly freeze time. Too bad his glares did little-to-no damage, and while Blake stiffened, my lips had curved half-way into a teasing smile.

Clearly, brother dearest was one of a kind.

"A cold brew," Liam's voice was sharp. I rolled my eyes. "Please."

"Quite the reputation you've got," I smirked at him. "A cold brew. That'll be all?"

"I didn't know you worked here," he ignored me, eyes snapping to Blake's who had paled like he had seen something outrageous. "How's your injury?"

"I—I joined last week, actually," my co-worker rambled, embarrassment prominent on his face. "How do you know about my injury? How do you even know each other?"

I glared at my brother, as if saying: give this guy a break. "He's my brother."

If Blake was uncomfortable before, he looked mortified now—mouth ajar and speech a splutter of words. "Don't even...So I talked shit about your brother to you?"

It was Liam's turn to stare at him, wide-eyed, all while seizing a fistful of hair in his hand in frustration. "I just asked you how you were, Blake. Is this how you repay kindness nowadays? What in hell did you say to her anyway?"

"Nothing I don't already know," I grinned, noting another order into the machine for record while my phone vibrated in my pocket, startling me. "Don't worry about it, Blake. All your complains are safe with me."

When my phone had vibrated once more, I decided to take a step back and pull it out of my pocket. The screen lit up, time reading 7:23 P.M., and a part of me eased at the thought of being home in seven minutes. What I had completely overlooked were the message notifications at the top, and how air knocked out of my lungs almost immediately as I read them.

Evan had messaged me. Twice. Fingers hovering over the notification, I finally clicked onto the message, heat surging to my chest.

Evan: You weren't at school today.

I blinked. Wanted to roll my eyes, but could only grin as I responded: thanks for observing. i'd not have known otherwise.

He replied immediately.

Evan: Dial down the sass, miss ma'am

Evan: On a serious note, you alright?

Me: yeah, just felt like staying

at home today. did i miss out on something fun?

Evan: If you consider Leo falling face down while tripping on air as fun

Me: WHAT

Evan: Twice.

Me: you're kidding.

He wasn't. The group chat was flooding with messages for a reason, and Stella was crying over the fact that none of them had managed to record while it happened. By the time I caught up with them, Evan had texted again. The only thing was how his words didn't make me laugh or roll my eyes anymore. They went straight for the heart, trampling on it and filling it with unknown, unfamiliar, foreign, yet satiating warmth.

Evan: I hope you're coming tomorrow

Me: why?

Evan: Who else am I supposed to annoy?

Me: and here i thought you

missed me

Evan: I never said I didn't

"What in the world are you grinning so hard at? Let me see," Maya peeked over, and I'd never dropped my phone back into my pockets faster than in that moment, heartbeats swallowing the words I was supposed to utter. She huffed, crossing her hands on her chest, and winked. "Who was it?"

"No one," I rolled my eyes. "My shift's over, I suppose?"

"Yeah. And you're here, smiling like a madwoman at God-knows-what."

I didn't say anything. Grabbing my belongings and leaving in haste was what came second nature, and by the time I was leaving, I had realized Blake and Liam had already left.

They didn't matter in this instant, though. None of them did—because my head was wrapped up around something too particular, the conversation I had had with Stella and Chloe ringing like sirens in the background. It wasn't like I was wholly unknown to this feeling either. . .but—oh, this proved to be rather worse. Infinitely worse. A thing so dreadful that I could picture my guardian angel's unmistakably titled frown like it was a fond memory.

And—I couldn't stay untrue to myself for long. Stella hadn't lied when she'd said that right to my face, and I'd be damned all the way to hell to deny it now. Shutting out all possible thoughts hadn't done much good, after all. The Devil had a face and a name and a special place in my goddamned heart, and I was way too late to do anything about it.

I had fucked up. Big time.

• • •

now we sit back and observe

i hope you enjoyed this one bc i surely had fun writing. laura was in denial for way too long, its now time for her to regret every decision she's made which has led to this

hope you're doing well x