It wasn’t a normal day.

Amir and Sam haphazardly stack cups as daylight wanes on a Thursday evening. A few come by to order cups of caffeine, but only a few patrons snuggle into an armchair. The rustic café is deserted an hour before closing time.

The tower sways from side to side as Leah waits in place, being the model part-timer, but even she doesn’t resist interjecting in their conversation every once in a while. She enjoys watching Sam gape for a moment before spouting a carefully worded answer, a blush creeping to his cheeks.

The boss strides in. Her nose, she notices, is red and drippy. She constantly sneezes as she wraps her sweater around her neck and addresses her employees. She grabs a handful of napkins from the dispenser.

“We’re closing up early. I’m too sick to do this. Greta’s fine with it.” She scratches her head. “Amir, you can oversee close-up. I’m going home.” Rubbing her red eyes, she adjusts her tote bag and pushes the door.

Amir grins. “Let’s close up!”

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Leah sits a foot away from Sam on the bench, as Amir’s car rolls out of the lot and into the stream of cars.

Her rose jacket is zipped to the top, but she can’t help herself from shivering. Wisps of air escape her parted lips, like tendrils of smoke. Sam shoves his hands into the pockets of his unbuttoned sienna jacket. Underneath, he dons a warm orange sweater.

Her phone buzzes.

Grateful for a distraction, she pulls out her phone.

Mrs. Smith - Notes about the exam for tomorrow

Her sigh attracts a glance. Noticing her shaking, frigid hands, he wordlessly takes off his scarf, reaching out towards her.

“Here.”

The bright, ochre scarf is the same color as the leaves of the trees overhead. A few saplings haven’t begun to shed their summer colors, but carmine leaves alongside their lurid and tangerine peers encircle the bench outside the quaint café. The bench itself is creaky, a slave to the unrelenting passage of time, while the verdant grass has begun to give out. Even the sky is a shade of rose petals, dotted with wisps.

She feels foolish for taking it, but she can’t say no to his shaky smile, as if her removal would drive him into hiding.

She breaks the silence, muttering a thank you.

Her phone buzzes again.

“You must have a lot of texts,” says the boy suddenly, inspecting the cornelian leaf which lands on his lap.

“It’s mostly from my teacher,” she says. “She loves dropping pop quizzes on us and scaring us with the SATs.”

“Yeah.” Sam shifts in his seat, so he is angled towards hers. “Same here. Summit is really picky about test scores.” Summit was notorious for their quest to perfection, making it their duty to send every student traversing its halls to college for their statistics.

“Honestly, they freak. Like, how is one test supposed to determine how intelligent you are? But that’s not even in my mind right now.” She doesn’t want to stop the words from tumbling out as she sees Sam’s eyes widen.

“Y-yeah. I don’t even know how I’m supposed to compare to other kids in my classes.” His expression is sheepish as if he overstepped. “They make fun of me all the time, just because I spend a few moments a day studying for the biggest test of my life.” He pauses. “I sound like a nerd.”

“No!” Her eyebrows shoot up, her mind racing. “I mean, I get it. I feel incompetent all the time.” Her eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. “We should study together.”

And yes, she knows how silly her exclamations are. She knows how odd it was to simply ask, but she’s never been more intrigued in the mindset of someone who she didn’t know.

He looks at her through his long lashes before a smile lights up his expression. They exchange numbers as his dad pulls up, a stoic man in a business suit. He nods her head at her as he climbs in, his eyes fastened to his screen.

Leah crosses her arms as the car disappears from her line of sight.

Leah has always enjoyed a good mystery novel – and Samuel Fernandez is undoubtedly the biggest she’s ever encountered.