MAYA'S POV

"Maya! Maya, get up right now!"

I groaned and pulled my pillow over my head. Why was someone screaming at me? It was too early for this.

"Maya, I swear if you don't get up in the next five seconds, I'm pouring water on you!"

That voice belonged to my best friend and roommate, Jenna. We'd been friends since middle school, and she knew exactly how to get me out of bed. The problem was, I really didn't want to get out of bed.

"Go away," I mumbled into my pillow.

"It's already seven-thirty!" Jenna shouted.

My eyes flew open. Seven-thirty? No, no, no. That couldn't be right. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and checked the time. Sure enough, it was 7:32 a.m.

"Oh no!" I jumped out of bed so fast I almost tripped over my own feet.

"Told you," Jenna said, crossing her arms. She was already dressed and ready for her classes. "You stayed up late again, didn't you?"

"I had to finish that stupid essay," I said, running around my room trying to find clean clothes. "Professor Martinez said if I turned it in late one more time, he was going to fail me."

"Well, if you don't hurry up, you're going to be late for work," Jenna reminded me. "And you know how Mr. Peterson gets when people are late."

She was right. Mr. Peterson, my boss at the coffee shop, was super strict about being on time. Last month, he fired someone for being late three times. I couldn't afford to lose this job. I needed the money to pay for my apartment and my tuition.

I grabbed a pair of jeans and a clean shirt before running to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and immediately regretted it. The water was freezing cold. I had forgotten to turn on the heater last night.

"Come on, come on," I said to myself as I jumped into the cold water. It felt like a thousand tiny needles were stabbing my skin, but I didn't have time to wait for warm water.

I washed as fast as I could, which probably took about three minutes. When I got out, I was shivering so badly my teeth were chattering.

"Here," Jenna said, handing me a towel through the bathroom door. "You're going to be okay. Just breathe."

"Thanks," I said, drying myself off quickly.

I got dressed in record time, pulled my wet hair into a messy bun, and grabbed my work apron from the hook by the door. I didn't even have time to put on makeup. Not that I wore much anyway, but still.

"What time is it now?" I asked Jenna as I rushed to the kitchen.

"Seven forty-five," she said, looking at her phone. "If you run, you might make it."

I grabbed a banana from the counter and shoved it in my bag. "I'll see you later!"

"Good luck!" Jenna called after me as I ran out the door.

I lived on the third floor, and the elevator in our building was broken. Again. So I had to run down three flights of stairs while trying not to trip and break my neck.

When I finally got outside, I saw the bus pulling up to the stop. Perfect timing! I ran as fast as I could and managed to jump on just before the doors closed.

"Thank you," I said to the bus driver, out of breath.

He just nodded and started driving.

I found a seat near the back and tried to catch my breath. My heart was racing, and I was pretty sure I was sweating even though I had just taken a shower. This was not how I wanted to start my day.

The bus ride to the coffee shop took about fifteen minutes. I spent the whole time watching the clock on my phone, hoping I wouldn't be too late. Mr. Peterson started work at eight o'clock sharp, and he expected everyone else to be there on time too.

When the bus finally stopped near the coffee shop, I jumped off and started running again. I could see the shop from where I was standing. It was only about two blocks away.

I ran as fast as I could, dodging people on the sidewalk and apologizing when I almost bumped into someone. When I finally reached the coffee shop, I looked at my phone. It was 8:07.

Seven minutes late. Not terrible, but not good either.

I took a deep breath and walked inside. The shop was already busy with the morning rush. I could see my coworkers, Sarah and Tom, running around trying to serve everyone.

"You're late, Maya," a voice said behind me.

I turned around to see Mr. Peterson standing there with his arms crossed. He was a tall man with grey hair and a serious face. He always wore the same thing: black pants, a white shirt, and a stern expression.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Peterson," I said quickly. "I overslept and missed my alarm, but I promise it won't happen again."

"That's what you said last time," he said, his voice cold. "I don't pay you to come here whenever you feel like it."

"I know, I'm really sorry. It won't happen again, I swear."

He looked at me for a long moment, like he was trying to decide whether to believe me or not. Finally, he sighed.

"This is your last warning, Maya," he said. "One more time, and you're done. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir. I understand. Thank you."

"Now go put your apron on and help Sarah with table six," he said, pointing to a table near the window. "And don't mess this up. He's been waiting for five minutes already."

"Yes, Sir," I said, quickly tying my apron around my waist.

I grabbed my notepad and pen from the counter and walked over to table six. When I got closer, I stopped for a second. The guy sitting there was probably the most attractive person I had ever seen in real life.

He had dark hair that looked perfectly messy, like he had just run his hands through it. His eyes were a deep brown color, and he was wearing an expensive-looking suit. He was staring at his laptop, completely focused on whatever he was doing.

Okay, Maya, I thought to myself. Just be professional. Take his order and move on.

"Good morning, Sir," I said with my best customer service smile. "I'm sorry for the wait. What can I get for you today?"

He didn't even look up from his laptop. He just kept typing like I wasn't even there.

I waited for a few seconds, but he still didn't say anything.

"Um, excuse me, Sir?" I said, a little louder this time. "Can I take your order?"

"I heard you the first time," he said, still not looking at me. His voice was cold and annoyed. "Can't you see I'm working? I was clearly ignoring you."

I felt my face get hot. Was he serious right now?

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I need to take your order," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and polite.

He finally looked up at me, and I could see the irritation in his eyes. "Black coffee. No sugar. No milk. And make it fast."

"Okay, one black coffee coming right up," I said, writing it down even though it was a pretty simple order.

I walked back to the counter where Sarah was making a latte.

"Who's the guy at table six?" I asked her quietly.

"No idea," Sarah said, shrugging. "But he looks rich. Probably some business guy."

"He's also super rude," I muttered as I started making his coffee.

"Rich people usually are," Sarah said with a laugh. "Just smile and take their money."

I made the black coffee exactly how he ordered it. No sugar, no milk. I made sure it was fresh and hot, just the way most people liked their coffee in the morning.

When it was ready, I carefully carried it over to his table.

"Here you go, Sir," I said, placing the cup in front of him. "One black coffee, no sugar, no milk."

He looked at the coffee, then at me, then back at the coffee. He picked up the cup and took a sip.

Then he spit it out all over the table.

"What is this?" he demanded, his voice loud enough that people at other tables turned to look.

I felt my heart sink. Oh no.

"It's your black coffee, Sir," I said, confused. "Just like you ordered."

"This is disgusting," he said, pushing the cup away from him. "It's too hot and too bitter. Are you trying to burn my mouth?"

I stared at him in disbelief. He had ordered a black coffee with no sugar. Of course it was going to be bitter! That's what black coffee tastes like!

But I couldn't say that. Mr. Peterson was watching from behind the counter, and I couldn't afford to lose this job.

"I'm so sorry, Sir," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Let me get you a new one."

"Make sure it's drinkable this time," he said, going back to his laptop.

I grabbed the cup and walked back to the counter. Sarah was standing there with wide eyes.

"Did he just spit out his coffee?" she whispered.

"Yep," I said, feeling frustrated. "He ordered black coffee with no sugar, and now he's mad that it's bitter."

"What did he expect?" Sarah said, shaking her head. "That's literally what black coffee tastes like."

"I know," I said, starting to make him a new coffee. "But the customer is always right, I guess."

This time, I made the coffee a little less strong and let it cool down for a minute before taking it back to him. I didn't want to give him any more reasons to complain.

"Here you go, Sir," I said, placing the new cup in front of him. "I made sure it's not too hot this time."

He looked at me like I was wasting his time, then picked up the cup and took a small sip. He didn't spit it out this time, so I guess that was an improvement.

"It's acceptable," he said, not even looking at me.

I wanted to say something back. I wanted to tell him that he was being rude and unreasonable. But I just smiled and said, "I'm glad you like it. Let me know if you need anything else."

I started to walk away when I heard him say, "People like you should learn to do your job properly the first time."

I stopped walking. Did he really just say that?

I turned around slowly and looked at him. He was staring at his laptop again, like he hadn't just insulted me.

I wanted to tell him that people like him shouldn't be so rude to people who were just trying to do their job. I wanted to tell him that he was the problem, not me. But I knew I couldn't.

Instead, I just walked away and went back to the counter.

"You okay?" Sarah asked, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, even though I wasn't. "I just need to get through this day."

The rest of my shift went by slowly. The rude guy at table six stayed for another hour, working on his laptop and occasionally snapping his fingers when he wanted a refill. Every time I brought him more coffee, he found something to complain about.

When he finally left, I felt like I could breathe again.

"Good riddance," Sarah said as we watched him walk out the door.

"Seriously," I agreed. "I hope he never comes back."

But something told me that I wasn't that lucky.

MAYA'S POV

The next morning, I made sure to set three different alarms. There was no way I was going to be late again. Mr. Peterson had been very clear that one more mistake and I was out.

When my first alarm went off at six-thirty, I actually got up. Jenna was still asleep in her room, and the apartment was quiet. I took my time getting ready, even turning on the water heater so I could have a proper warm shower.

By seven-fifteen, I was dressed, fed, and ready to go. I even had time to put on a little makeup and fix my hair properly.

"Look at you, being all responsible," Jenna said, walking into the kitchen in her pajamas. "I'm impressed."

"I can't afford to be late again," I said, putting my lunch in my bag. "Mr. Peterson was really serious yesterday."

"Well, you look nice," Jenna said, pouring herself some coffee. "Much better than the wet rat look you had going on yesterday."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, but I was smiling. "I'll see you later."

"Have a good day at work!"

I left the apartment with plenty of time to spare. The bus came right on schedule, and I arrived at the coffee shop at seven-forty-five. Fifteen minutes early.

"Good morning, Maya," Sarah said when I walked in. She was already behind the counter, setting up for the day. "You're early! Did aliens abduct the real Maya?"

"Very funny," I said, tying my apron on. "I'm just trying to keep my job."

"Smart," Sarah said. "Mr. Peterson was in a mood yesterday after that guy complained about you."

My stomach dropped. "He complained about me?"

"Yeah, after he left, he apparently called Mr. Peterson and said you were unprofessional," Sarah explained. "Mr. Peterson was pretty annoyed."

"Are you serious?" I said, feeling angry. "I did everything he asked! He was the one being difficult!"

"I know, I know," Sarah said, holding up her hands. "I told Mr. Peterson that the guy was being unreasonable, but you know how he is. The customer is always right."

I sighed and started helping Sarah set up. This was just great. Now I was on Mr. Peterson's bad side because some rude guy couldn't handle his coffee.

The morning rush started around eight-fifteen. People came in ordering lattes, cappuccinos, espressos, and everything in between. I was running around taking orders and serving customers, barely having time to think.

Around nine o'clock, the rush started to slow down. I was wiping down a table when Sarah called out to me.

"Maya, table six!"

I looked up and felt my heart sink. It was him. The rude guy from yesterday. He was sitting at the same table, wearing another expensive suit and staring at his laptop.

"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered under my breath.

"Good luck," Sarah whispered as I walked past her.

I took a deep breath and walked over to his table. Professional, I reminded myself. Just be professional.

"Good morning, Sir," I said with a forced smile. "What can I get for you today?"

He looked up at me, and I could see recognition in his eyes. "Oh, it's you again."

"Yes, Sir. I'm Maya. I'll be serving you today."

"Hmm," he said, looking back at his laptop. "Black coffee. And this time, try not to make it taste like dirt."

I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I would regret. "Of course, Sir. One black coffee is coming up."

I walked back to the counter and started making his coffee. Tom had come in for his shift and was standing next to me.

"Who's that guy?" Tom asked, nodding toward table six.

"Just some rude customer," I said, measuring out the coffee grounds. "He was here yesterday and complained about everything."

"And he came back?" Tom said, raising his eyebrows. "That's weird. Usually, if people hate the service, they don't come back."

"Yeah, well, he's special," I said sarcastically.

I made his coffee exactly the same way I had made the second cup yesterday, the one he had said was "acceptable." I let it cool down for a minute before taking it over to him.

"Here you go, Sir," I said, placing the cup carefully on his table. "One black coffee."

He picked it up and took a sip. I held my breath, waiting for him to complain.

"It's fine," he said after a moment.

"Great," I said. "Let me know if you need anything else."

I started to walk away, but his voice stopped me.

"Actually, I'll have a croissant as well," he said. "Make sure it's fresh."

"Of course, Sir."

I went to the display case and picked out the freshest-looking croissant we had. I put it on a plate and brought it back to him.

"Thank you," he said, not looking up from his laptop.

Wait, did he just say thank you? That was the first polite thing he had said to me.

"You're welcome," I said, surprised.

I walked back to the counter where Sarah was making a latte for another customer.

"Did he just thank you?" Sarah asked quietly.

"I think so," I said. "Maybe he's in a better mood today."

"Or maybe he's not as terrible as we thought," Sarah suggested.

"No, he's still terrible," I said. "He just had one moment of basic human decency."

Sarah laughed. "Fair enough."

The rest of the morning went smoothly. The rude guy, whose name I still didn't know, stayed at table six for about two hours. Every once in a while, he would ask for a coffee refill, and I would bring it to him. He didn't complain once, which was shocking.

When he finally got up to leave, he walked over to the counter where I was standing.

"I'd like to pay," he said, pulling out his wallet.

"Your total is twelve dollars," I said, looking at the register.

He handed me a twenty-dollar bill. "Keep the change."

I stared at the money in my hand. Eight dollars was a pretty generous tip, especially for someone who had been so rude yesterday.

"Thank you," I said, surprised.

He nodded once and walked out the door without another word.

"Did he just tip you eight dollars?" Sarah said, leaning over to look at the money in my hand.

"Yeah," I said, still confused. "I don't understand this guy at all."

"Maybe he felt bad about yesterday," Sarah suggested.

"Maybe," I said, but I wasn't convinced. He didn't seem like the type of person who felt bad about anything.

---

The next few days followed the same pattern. Every morning around nine o'clock, the rude guy would come in and sit at table six. He would order a black coffee and sometimes a croissant or a muffin. He would work on his laptop for a couple of hours, occasionally asking for refills.

And every time he left, he would tip generously.

It was strange. He wasn't exactly friendly, but he wasn't as rude as he had been on that first day. He would say "please" and "thank you" now, which was an improvement. But he still had this cold, distant attitude that made it hard to talk to him.

"He's here again," Tom said on Thursday morning when the guy walked in.

"I know," I said. "Table six, like always."

"He's becoming a regular," Tom observed. "That's good for business, I guess."

"I guess," I said, grabbing my notepad and walking over to table six.

"Good morning, Sir," I said. "The usual?"

"Yes," he said, opening his laptop. "And add a blueberry muffin."

"Coming right up."

I had started to memorize how he liked his coffee. Not too hot, not too strong, and definitely no sugar or milk. I made it exactly how he preferred and brought it over with the muffin.

"Thank you," he said, still focused on his laptop screen.

"You're welcome."

As I turned to walk away, he spoke again.

"What's your name?" he asked.

I stopped and turned around, surprised. "Maya."

"Maya," he repeated, like he was testing how it sounded. "I'm Ethan."

"Nice to meet you, Ethan," I said, even though we had technically already met several times.

He nodded and went back to his work.

I walked back to the counter where Sarah was grinning at me.

"He asked for your name!" she said excitedly. "That's progress!"

"It doesn't mean anything," I said, shaking my head. "He's just being polite."

"Still," Sarah said. "He's warming up to you. I can tell."

"He's a customer, Sarah. That's all."

But deep down, I was curious. Why had Ethan started coming here every day? And why did he always sit at the same table? There were plenty of coffee shops in the city, so why this one?

I told myself it didn't matter. He was just another customer, even if he was better looking than most. I had more important things to worry about, like paying my rent and passing my classes.

But I couldn't help wondering about him.

---

On Friday afternoon, something different happened. Ethan came in at his usual time and ordered his usual coffee. But about thirty minutes into his work session, a woman walked into the coffee shop.

She was tall and beautiful, with long blonde hair and designer clothes. She looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She walked straight over to table six and sat down across from Ethan.

"Ethan, we need to talk," she said loudly.

From where I was standing behind the counter, I could see Ethan's jaw tighten.

"Not here, Vanessa," he said quietly.

"Yes, here," Vanessa said, crossing her arms. "You've been avoiding my calls for a week."

"I've been busy," Ethan said, closing his laptop.

"Too busy for me?" Vanessa said, her voice getting louder. "We're supposed to be together, Ethan!"

Other customers were starting to stare. I looked over at Mr. Peterson, who was watching the scene with a frown on his face.

"Vanessa, please," Ethan said, his voice tight. "This is not the time or place."

"Then when is the time?" Vanessa demanded. "You never want to talk about us anymore!"

"That's because there is no us," Ethan said firmly. "I told you that two months ago."

Vanessa's face turned red. "You're going to regret this, Ethan. You can't just throw away what we had!"

"We didn't have anything," Ethan said, standing up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

He grabbed his laptop and walked out of the coffee shop, leaving Vanessa sitting there alone.

For a moment, Vanessa just sat there, looking shocked. Then she stood up and stormed out, her heels clicking loudly on the floor.

The coffee shop was silent for a few seconds before everyone went back to their conversations.

"Well, that was dramatic," Tom said from behind the counter.

"Yeah," I said, still staring at the door where Ethan had left.

I wondered what that was all about. But then again, it was none of my business. Ethan was just a customer, and whatever drama he had in his personal life had nothing to do with me.

Or at least, that's what I kept telling myself.

MAYA'S POV

I woke up on Saturday feeling like I had been hit by a truck. My head was pounding and my mouth felt like sandpaper.

"Ugh," I groaned, pulling my pillow over my face.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Jenna said way too cheerfully as she walked into my room. "How are you feeling?"

"Like death," I mumbled. "Why are you so happy?"

"Because I didn't stay up until three in the morning binge-watching that stupid show," Jenna said, sitting on the edge of my bed. "I told you not to start a new series on a Friday night."

She was right. I had stayed up way too late watching some drama about rich people with too many problems. But it was so good I couldn't stop.

"What time is it?" I asked, finally removing the pillow from my face.

"Almost noon," Jenna said. "You slept for like twelve hours."

"What?" I sat up quickly, which was a mistake because my head started spinning. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because it's Saturday and you don't have work or class," Jenna said, handing me a glass of water. "Drink this. You're probably dehydrated."

I took the water gratefully and drank it all in one go.

"Thanks," I said. "You're the best roommate ever."

"I know," Jenna said with a smile. "Now get up and get ready. We're going out for lunch."

"I don't want to go anywhere," I whined. "I just want to stay in bed and feel sorry for myself."

"Too bad," Jenna said, pulling the blanket off me. "You've been moping around all week about that Erik guy. It's time to get out and have some fun."

Erik. Just hearing his name made my stomach hurt.

We had been dating for about six months, and I really thought things were going well. But last week, he suddenly broke up with me over text. Over text! He said he wasn't ready for a serious relationship and that we wanted different things.

I was devastated. I really liked him.

"I'm not moping," I said defensively.

"Yes, you are," Jenna said. "You've eaten ice cream for dinner three times this week. That's moping."

"Ice cream is a perfectly acceptable dinner," I argued.

"Not when you eat the entire tub while crying," Jenna said. "Now come on. Get dressed. We're meeting the girls at that new brunch place downtown."

I sighed. There was no point in arguing with Jenna when she made up her mind about something.

"Fine," I said. "But I'm not wearing makeup."

"Deal," Jenna said. "Just wear something cute. And brush your hair. You look like you got electrocuted."

I looked in the mirror and she was right. My hair was sticking up in every direction.

"Okay, okay, I'm going," I said, shuffling to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, I was dressed in jeans and a sweater, my hair pulled back in a ponytail. It wasn't fancy, but at least I looked human.

"Much better," Jenna said when I came out. "Now let's go. The girls are already there."

We took an Uber to the restaurant, which was in a trendy part of town I didn't usually go to. Everything looked expensive and fancy.

"Are you sure we can afford this place?" I asked Jenna as we walked in.

"It's brunch, not dinner," Jenna said. "How expensive can eggs be?"

Very expensive, apparently. I looked at the menu and almost choked. Twenty dollars for avocado toast?

"This is insane," I whispered to Jenna.

"Just order something cheap," she whispered back.

"Everything is expensive!"

"Maya! Jenna! Over here!" I heard someone call out.

I looked up to see our friends Rachel and Sophie waving at us from a table by the window.

We walked over and sat down.

"Hey guys!" Rachel said excitedly. "I'm so glad you could make it!"

Rachel was always excited about everything. She had this bubbly personality that made everyone around her happy. She was studying fashion design and always dressed like she was going to a photoshoot.

"Thanks for inviting us," I said, giving her a hug.

"How are you doing, Maya?" Sophie asked with concern in her voice. "Jenna told us about Erik."

I shot Jenna a look. She just shrugged.

"I'm fine," I said, even though I wasn't. "It's whatever."

"Boys are stupid anyway," Rachel said matter-of-factly. "You deserve better."

"Exactly," Sophie agreed. "Erik was boring anyway. All he ever talked about was his car."

That was true. Erik did talk about his car a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

"Thanks guys," I said, smiling for real this time. "You're right. I'm better off without him."

"That's the spirit!" Rachel said. "Now let's order some ridiculously overpriced food and forget all about stupid boys!"

We all laughed and opened our menus.

I ended up ordering the cheapest thing I could find, which was still fifteen dollars for a basic omelet. But it was nice to be out with my friends, laughing and talking about random stuff.

We were in the middle of dessert when Sophie suddenly gasped.

"Oh my god, don't look now, but there's a really hot guy staring at you, Maya," she said.

Of course, I immediately looked.

And my heart dropped.

It was Ethan. From the coffee shop. And he was walking straight toward our table.

"Crap," I muttered under my breath.

"What? Do you know him?" Jenna asked.

"He's a customer from the coffee shop," I said quickly. "He's kind of rude."

But before I could say anything else, Ethan was standing at our table.

"Maya," he said, his voice cold as usual.

"Ethan," I replied, trying to sound casual. "Hi."

"I didn't expect to see you here," he said, looking around at my friends. "Are you following me?"

My jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"This is my regular brunch spot," Ethan said. "And suddenly you show up. Seems suspicious."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he serious right now?

"I've never been here before in my life," I said, feeling my face get hot. "And trust me, if I knew you were going to be here, I would have gone somewhere else."

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Right."

"Look, I don't know what your problem is," I said, standing up. "But I'm not following you. The world doesn't revolve around you."

"Could have fooled me," Ethan said. "You seem to show up everywhere I am."

"That's called a coincidence!" I said, my voice getting louder. "And for your information, I work at that coffee shop. So technically, you're the one who keeps showing up where I am!"

People at nearby tables were starting to stare, but I didn't care. This guy had some nerve.

"Whatever," Ethan said. "Just stay away from me."

"Gladly!" I shot back.

Ethan turned and walked away, back to his own table on the other side of the restaurant.

I sat back down, my hands shaking with anger.

"What the hell was that?" Rachel asked, her eyes wide.

"That," I said, "is the most arrogant person I've ever met in my life."

"He's also really hot," Sophie said.

"Sophie!" Jenna said, slapping her arm.

"What? I'm just saying," Sophie said defensively. "He's rude, but he's hot."

"Being hot doesn't give you the right to be a jerk," I said, taking a sip of my water.

"True," Rachel agreed. "But why does he think you're following him?"

"I have no idea," I said. "He comes to the coffee shop every single day. And now he's acting like I'm stalking him or something. It's crazy."

"Maybe he likes you," Sophie suggested.

"What? No," I said quickly. "He hates me. He makes that very clear every time I see him."

"Sometimes guys are mean to girls they like," Rachel said. "It's like elementary school all over again."

"We're not in elementary school," I said. "We're adults. If he liked me, he would just say so."

"Not all guys are that mature," Jenna said. "Some of them still pull pigtails, metaphorically speaking."

"Well, even if he did like me, which he doesn't, I wouldn't be interested," I said firmly. "He's rude and arrogant and thinks the world revolves around him."

"But he's hot," Sophie said again.

We all laughed, and I felt myself relax a little bit.

For the rest of brunch, I tried not to look at Ethan's table. But I could feel his eyes on me every once in a while. It was unnerving.

When we finally left, I made sure to walk out without looking in his direction.

"That was interesting," Jenna said as we got into an Uber.

"That's one word for it," I said.

"Do you think you'll see him again?" Jenna asked.

"Probably," I said. "He comes to the coffee shop every day, remember?"

"Maybe Monday he won't show up," Jenna suggested hopefully.

But something told me that wasn't going to happen.

---

ETHAN'S POV

I watched as Maya and her friends left the restaurant, and I couldn't help but feel annoyed.

Why was she everywhere I went? First the coffee shop, now my favorite brunch place. It was getting ridiculous.

"Dude, what was that about?" my friend Lucas asked from across the table.

Lucas and I had known each other since college. He was one of the few people I actually trusted.

"Nothing," I said, going back to my food.

"That didn't look like anything," Lucas said. "You basically accused that girl of stalking you."

"She works at the coffee shop I go to," I explained. "And now she shows up here. It's weird."

"Or it's a coincidence," Lucas suggested. "This place is pretty popular."

"Maybe," I said, but I wasn't convinced.

"You know what I think?" Lucas said, leaning back in his chair. "I think you like her."

I almost choked on my coffee. "What? No."

"You definitely like her," Lucas said with a grin. "Otherwise you wouldn't care if she was here or not."

"I don't like her," I said firmly. "She's annoying."

"Annoying how?" Lucas asked.

"She's just... always there," I said, struggling to explain. "And she's too cheerful. And she asks too many questions."

"So she's friendly?" Lucas said. "That's what you're complaining about?"

"No, it's not that," I said. "She's just... I don't know. She gets under my skin."

"Because you like her," Lucas said again.

"I don't like her," I repeated.

But even as I said it, I wasn't sure if I was telling the truth.

There was something about Maya that I couldn't figure out. She wasn't like other people I knew. She didn't care about money or status. She was just... herself.

And that scared me.

"Whatever you say, man," Lucas said, clearly not believing me. "But you should probably apologize to her. That was pretty harsh."

"I'm not apologizing," I said. "She's the one who keeps showing up where I am."

"Right," Lucas said sarcastically. "Because she has nothing better to do than follow you around."

I glared at him, but he just laughed.

Maybe he was right. Maybe I had overreacted. But I wasn't going to admit that.

"Can we just drop it?" I asked.

"Sure," Lucas said. "But this conversation isn't over."

Great. Just what I needed.