The sharp chime of the bookstore café’s bell jingled as Riya pushed open the door, her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. The rich scent of coffee mixed with the faint mustiness of paper, instantly calming her nerves. She was excited — and terrified. Her first-ever job.

“Riya!”

Miya’s voice rang out from the counter. Riya’s face lit up at the sight of her best friend leaning against the espresso machine, confidently flipping her freshly dyed blue hair over her shoulder.

“You’re late,” Miya teased, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips.

“By two minutes,” Riya shot back, dropping her bag behind the counter. “You’re being dramatic.”

Miya leaned in, lowering her voice. “I just missed you, that’s all.”

Riya rolled her eyes, but her heart skipped a beat — something it had been doing a lot around Miya lately.

The afternoon rush passed in a blur of cappuccino orders, shelf organizing, and cleaning tables. Riya found her rhythm quickly, partly thanks to Miya’s endless jokes that kept her distracted from her nerves.

“Hey,” Miya whispered as she grabbed Riya’s wrist near the register. “Wanna see something cool?”

Before Riya could answer, Miya tugged her toward the back room — the storage space that doubled as their boss’s office.

“We’re not supposed to—”

“Oh, relax.” Miya grinned. She knelt beside a low shelf, pulling out a battered shoebox. Inside were scraps of paper — notes and doodles left by past employees. Some were funny jokes, others had dramatic confessions scribbled in smudged ink.

“Read this one,” Miya said, pointing at a folded note.

Riya unfolded it and laughed. "I spilled an entire latte on Mr. Parker’s laptop and blamed the Wi-Fi."

“Classic,” Riya chuckled.

Miya scooted closer. “We should leave a note too,” she said, her voice softer now.

Riya blinked as Miya's hand brushed against hers. It wasn’t much — barely a touch — but Riya felt her pulse skip.

“What should we write?” Riya asked, hoping her voice sounded normal.

Miya grabbed a pen. “How about… ‘Two hot girls now work here. You’re welcome.’”

Riya laughed, swatting her arm. “No way. We’ll get fired.”

“Fine.” Miya tapped her chin thoughtfully. “How about… ‘The new girl has the cutest smile.’”

Riya froze. Miya’s eyes flicked up to hers, a teasing smile playing on her lips — but there was something else there too. Something softer.

“I… uh…” Riya stammered.

“Relax.” Miya grinned again, writing the note before Riya could protest. She tucked it deep in the box. “It’s anonymous. No one will know.”

But Riya knew. And judging by the way Miya’s gaze lingered on her, Miya knew too.

Later that night, Riya lay in bed, her phone glowing faintly on her pillow.

Miya: You were awesome today. Can’t wait for tomorrow.

Riya stared at the message longer than she should have before typing back.

Riya: You’re not too bad yourself. Don’t get fired before I show up.

The reply came instantly.

Miya: No promises.

Riya smiled — and tried to ignore the warmth curling in her chest.

End of Chapter 1

The soft hum of the bookstore’s closing music played overhead as Riya wiped down the café tables. The warm scent of espresso lingered in the air, mixing with the faint hint of old paper from the bookshelves. Miya stood near the door, flipping the sign from OPEN to CLOSED with a dramatic flair.

“Another day survived,” Miya announced, spinning the key on her finger like a prize. “I say we deserve a medal.”

“You say that every night,” Riya teased, stacking the last chair.

“And I’m never wrong.”

Riya chuckled, tossing her cloth back into the bucket. Miya’s energy was contagious — the way she could turn the most ordinary day into something that felt like an adventure.

“You wanna hang out a bit?” Miya asked, leaning against the counter. “I mean… if you’re not in a rush.”

Riya hesitated. “I should probably—”

“Oh, come on,” Miya cut in, her grin widening. “I’ll make you a drink. On the house.”

“You literally don’t own the house.”

Miya gasped in mock offense. “Fine. Guess I’ll just drink both hot chocolates myself…” She turned toward the espresso machine, her back to Riya.

“You’re impossible,” Riya muttered — but her smile betrayed her.

Moments later, they were sitting on the floor behind the counter, mugs in hand. The store felt different after hours — quieter, calmer, almost magical.

“So,” Miya began, tracing her finger along her mug’s rim, “you never told me why you wanted this job.”

“I don’t know,” Riya shrugged. “Seemed… safe.”

“Safe?” Miya tilted her head. “That’s boring.”

“Not everyone’s like you,” Riya shot back. “Some of us aren’t… fearless.”

Miya laughed — but softer this time. “I’m not fearless.”

“You sure act like it.”

For a moment, Miya didn’t answer. She just stared into her drink, her playful edge dimming.

“My dad left when I was nine,” Miya said quietly. “Mom had to work a lot after that, so… I kinda had to figure things out on my own.”

Riya blinked. She hadn’t expected that. “I… didn’t know.”

Miya shrugged, flashing her usual grin like she could laugh it off. “Guess I just learned not to worry so much. Feels easier that way.”

Riya’s chest tightened. “Well… you’re pretty good at pretending you’ve got it all together.”

“Key word: pretending,” Miya muttered. Then, as if flipping a switch, her grin returned. “Anyway,” she said, bumping her shoulder against Riya’s, “I think you’re cooler than you give yourself credit for.”

Riya felt her face heat. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do.”

The air between them shifted — softer now, quieter. Miya’s gaze lingered, and Riya swore her heart skipped a beat.

“You’ve got this… cute little crinkle when you’re nervous,” Miya murmured, tapping the corner of her own eye to mimic it.

“I do not,” Riya blurted.

“You totally do,” Miya teased, voice lower now. Her hand moved without warning, brushing a strand of hair behind Riya’s ear — slow, gentle, deliberate. Riya froze.

“I…” Riya’s words died in her throat. Miya’s hand lingered a second too long — or maybe not long enough.

“Relax,” Miya whispered with a smirk, but her voice sounded different now — softer, like she wasn’t as sure as before. “It’s just me.”

But that was the problem. It wasn’t just Miya anymore.

“Yeah,” Riya muttered, setting her mug down before her shaking hands gave her away. “It’s just you.”

They sat in silence after that — close enough for their knees to touch, close enough that Riya felt her pulse in her fingertips.

When they finally left the store, the night air was cold, but Riya’s skin still felt warm.

---

Later that night, her phone buzzed.

Miya: Had fun tonight. We should do that more often.

Riya hesitated before typing back.

Riya: Yeah… we should.

Her thumb hovered over the screen. Before she could change her mind, she added one more message.

Riya: Btw… I think you’ve got the cutest smile.

She hit send — and spent the next ten minutes wondering if she’d just ruined everything.

The reply came instantly.

Miya: Told you you’re braver than you think.

Riya laughed softly, her heart still racing.

---

End of Chapter 2

The café had been closed for nearly an hour, but Riya and Miya still lingered behind the counter, half-heartedly wiping tables just to delay leaving. The air felt heavy — not uncomfortable, but charged in a way Riya couldn’t quite explain.

“You know,” Miya muttered, stacking cups on a tray, “I think we’ve worked hard enough to deserve some kind of… reward.”

Riya scoffed. “We drank your ‘free’ hot chocolates yesterday.”

“Exactly.” Miya grinned. “Time for something new.”

Before Riya could ask what she meant, Miya bolted toward the storage room.

“Miya!” Riya hissed, laughing despite herself. “You know we’re not supposed to—”

“Relax!” Miya’s voice echoed from inside. A few seconds later, she returned, holding a keychain-sized flashlight.

Riya blinked. “What’s that?”

“Follow me.”

Curiosity outweighed common sense, so Riya grabbed her bag and followed Miya out the back door.

The alley behind the bookstore was dimly lit, with a narrow staircase leading to the rooftop. Miya took the lead, climbing two steps at a time. Riya hesitated at the bottom.

“You coming or what?” Miya called down, flashing her a grin.

“Do I have a choice?” Riya muttered, trudging up after her.

The rooftop was nothing special — just a flat space with gravel crunching beneath their shoes. But from here, the city stretched out below them, warm streetlights glowing like stars on the pavement.

“Wow,” Riya murmured. “I never knew it looked like this.”

“Told you,” Miya said proudly.

They stood side by side, the silence strangely comfortable. The night breeze tugged at Riya’s hair, making her shiver.

“You cold?” Miya asked.

“I’m fine,” Riya said quickly.

“Liar.” Miya shrugged off her hoodie and draped it over Riya’s shoulders without asking.

Riya froze. The warmth of Miya’s jacket clung to her, and the faint scent of citrus shampoo mixed with Miya’s usual minty gum. She wanted to say something — anything — but her words tangled in her throat.

“You’re staring,” Miya teased.

Riya jerked her gaze away. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Oh, totally.” Miya smirked. “I know I’m hard to resist.”

“Shut up,” Riya mumbled, pulling the hoodie tighter.

Miya laughed softly, then her smile faded. “Hey…” she began, her voice quieter now. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

Miya hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the flashlight. “Do you ever… feel like you’re supposed to say something, but you’re too scared you’ll mess it up?”

Riya’s breath hitched. “Yeah… all the time.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Miya turned, stepping closer — just a little too close.

“You’re doing that crinkle thing again,” Miya said softly, pointing to the corner of Riya’s eye.

“Am not.”

“You totally are.”

This time, Miya’s hand didn’t just brush her hair aside — her fingers lingered, warm against Riya’s cheek. Riya felt her heart hammering in her chest, loud enough she was sure Miya could hear it.

“You know,” Miya murmured, “if I kissed you right now… would you stop me?”

Riya’s breath caught. Miya’s face was barely inches from hers — close enough that Riya could see the faint scar on her eyebrow, the tiny freckle just beneath her ear.

“I…” Riya’s voice faltered. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say — what she wanted to say.

But before she could answer, Miya’s hand dropped, and she stepped back.

“Sorry,” Miya muttered quickly, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “That was dumb. Forget I said anything.”

Riya stood frozen, the warmth of Miya’s touch still lingering on her skin.

“It’s… okay,” she managed to say.

Miya’s smile returned — but it didn’t quite reach her eyes this time.

“C’mon,” Miya said, her voice light again. “We should head back before our boss thinks we’re robbing the place.”

Riya nodded, but her thoughts were still spinning.

She should’ve said something. She should’ve stopped Miya from pulling away.

But instead, she followed her down the steps — heart still racing, her head still full of unanswered questions.

---

Later that night, Riya lay awake in bed, replaying the rooftop moment over and over. Her phone buzzed on her nightstand.

Miya: Hey… sorry about earlier. Hope I didn’t make things weird.

Riya’s fingers hovered over the screen. She wanted to say it wasn’t weird — that it wasn’t dumb, that she’d wanted it too.

Instead, she typed:

Riya: Don’t worry about it. Goodnight :)

She stared at the screen, her heart sinking.

Moments later, another message appeared.

Miya: Goodnight, Crinkle Eyes.

Riya smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes either.

---

End of Chapter 3