As fate would have it, I didn’t see the handsome barista for the next week. Between working, setting up the house, giving Dustin driving practice, catching up on the summer reading for my English class, and everything in-between, I hadn’t had any time to stop by. Which was really unfortunate.

So Tuesday morning, the first day of classes, I decided that on my three-hour break between my English and Sociology class, I’d stop by the coffee shop for a cup of Joe. English flew by. The only thing we’d done was taken a quiz on the summer reading, which was a piece of cake. English had always come easy for me, which, considering it was my major, was a good thing.

Once English was over, I hurried to my car, anticipation welling up inside me. For a moment I wished I’d had a friend I could’ve dragged with me, but it was only a brief thought. Having friends and a social life hadn’t been a priority of mine since I’d turned seventeen. After my mom had died, everything but surviving and Dustin got put on the backburner. And anyway, earning good grades was much easier when going out often didn’t hinder you.

I’ll be the first to admit it was a little sad, but it was my life, and I didn’t really mind it.

My nerves were crazy as I pulled into a parking spot in front of the coffee shop. Which was stupid, because there was no reason for me to be nervous. It’d been over a week since I’d last visited, and I highly doubted the cute guy would remember me. If he was even working today.

Reassuring myself, I slipped out of my car and walked steadily toward the shop. This time I noticed a paper with the hours of the shop was posted on the corkboard beside the entrance. As I read it, embarrassment soaked into my gut. The shop closed at eight o’clock every night. Which meant it’d been closed when I’d gone in the last time…

“Jesus,” I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up as I reconsidered entering the shop. I must’ve looked like an idiot… but then again, the worker hadn’t kicked me out. He’d let me order a drink, too. Which meant he wasn’t only handsome, but kind as well. There was no reason why I should’ve been afraid of going in. I needed to stop acting like such a little kid.

Nodding to myself, I pushed open the door with confidence, ignoring the violent jingle of the bells that announced my entrance. A few disinterested customers glanced over at me and I snapped my head away, attempting to keep myself calm, cool, and collected. Of course, that was all blown to hell when the dark-haired barista met my gaze. He smiled, and to my amazement, recognition flashed in his icy blue eyes. I stared at him for a moment, once again taken aback by his looks, because really? This type of man only existed in a teenager’s romance novel. Or in real life— if you were a drop dead gorgeous Hollywood icon that was dating another overly attractive famous person.

Which I was neither.

“Hello,” the barista greeted me, his voice low and slightly amused, as I inched toward the counter. It was sleek, made out of black marble, and so clean someone could’ve probably ate off it. “Isn’t it a bit early for a mochaccino?”

And holy shit, he’d remembered what I’d ordered. From a week ago. “I’m surprised you remember,” I said honestly, smiling hesitantly.

“I always remember the strange ones.”

“Ouch.”

The laugh that left his lips was made of sugar, puppies, and everything nice and I felt more at ease at once. Full blown smiling now, I quickly removed the remaining space between the counter and myself, aiming to get as close as possible to Mr. Handsome Barista.

Mr. Handsome Barista that needed a name. My eyes traveled to his nametag. Will C.

Will. A handsome name for a handsome man.

“So, how can I help you?” Will asked, a polite smile on his face again.

“What do you recommend?”

“The tri-flavored hot chocolate and hazelnut coffee mix, if you have a sweet tooth,” he said, his piercing eyes never leaving mine. “You strike me as someone who has a sweet tooth.”

Feigning offense, I glanced down at my body before narrowing my eyes at him. “Are you implying something?”

Surprise crossed he features before his expression twisted into one of a guilt and apology. “No, I’m sorry, that wasn’t—”

My laughter interrupted him and I waved him off. “I’m joking, joking. Don’t take it seriously.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, his skin coloring the slightest shade of pink. “Right… a joke.”

“I haven’t had hazelnut for the past five years, and the last time I tried it, I didn’t like it… but I guess I’ll give the mix a try,” I told him, figuring I wouldn’t have turned down his suggestion anyway.

“Very well,” he responded, throwing me a quick smile before making his way over to the coffee brewers.

My gaze followed him. Today he was in a short-sleeved black t-shirt that showed off the muscles in his arms, as well as the pale scar that ran to just below his elbow on his right arm. The scar was about a quarter of an inch wide, and perfectly straight. Curiosity bit at me, but I held it back. I wanted to ask how he’d gotten the scar. What thing had made it? A knife? But these were questions I couldn’t ask him flat out, because it would’ve been weird for someone who was technically still a stranger to probe into someone else’s life like that. So I stayed silent.

When I finally peeled my eyes off him before he could notice my gawking, I realized there was another employee here today, and he was staring straight at me, green orbs bright and mischievous. I blinked at him and he smirked, and I realized he totally knew I was checking out his co-worker. Flustered, I snapped my head down, steadily berating myself for looking like an idiot.

“Will that be all?”

I glanced back up, and met the other employee’s knowing smile. Now with him closer, I could give him a quick once over. He was pretty attractive (and I had a feeling I was going to start associating coffee shops with cute employees) with short dark brown hair and a solid build. He was tall, at least two inches taller than Will, and his teeth were white and pearly. There was something foreign about him, but I couldn’t place it. His skin was a golden brown tan— the perpetually tan type, not the summer tan type.

And he totally knew I was now checking him out, too. I needed to learn to be subtler.

“Yes,” I choked out when I realized he was still waiting for my answer. Dimitri, I noted, glancing at his nametag. Weird name. Like in the Land Before Time?

“No, Petrie was in the Land Before Time,” Dimitri corrects me and I realized I’d said my thoughts out loud. “I’m Dimitri. Short for Dimitrios. It’s Greek.”

“That’s, um, nice,” I responded awkwardly.

“You just said it was weird.”

And there was my blush. “I didn’t mean… I like it. It’s different.”

He grinned brightly at me. “That’s good. And may I ask your name, beautiful?”

“Hey, quit flirting with the customers,” a new voice interjected before I could respond, and I peered over Dimitri’s shoulder to Will. He handed over my beverage with an apologetic look. “Sorry, it’s hard to keep him on a leash.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“You’re right, you’re a tiny flying dinosaur.”

“I’m not… it’s… the dinosaur is Petrie!” Dimitri defended, shooting his co-worker a dirty look. “That’ll be $2.43,” he added, gesturing towards the cup in my hands.

I nodded, placing the coffee on the counter so I could open up my wallet and search for cash. “Sure.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, gaining my attention. “It’s on the house again.”

“Again?” Dimitri echoed.

Shaking my head, I resumed going through my wallet. Although I might’ve appeared calm on the outside, my heart was beating like crazy. Two free coffees? Did that mean something? No, probably not, I was just reading into it too much. It was probably just an apology for Dimitri, even though I didn’t really need one.

True to my thoughts, Will shoved his elbow into Dimitri’s side. “As an apology for this one.”

“Oh,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too disappointed. “Thanks, then.”

“No problem.” He gave me a pleasant smile as Dimitri pulled a face behind his back.

I smiled, and opened my mouth to say something, but the jingling of bells announcing a new customer interrupted me. Both Will and Dimitri turned both their bodies and smiles toward the newcomer and I swiftly moved away from the counter, taking a seat at one of the far tables, near a window. Even though our conversation had been cut off abruptly, I was still happy I’d gotten to talk to Will again, so I was content. I took a sip off my drink and was happy to say it was delicious— even for being half hazelnut.

The next half hour passed by faster than I would’ve liked, and I drained the last dregs of coffee out of my coffee cup with a frown. With it gone, there was no more reason for me to stay. Although that was probably a good thing, because I’d begun picking up stalker habits that involved checking out both employees when they weren’t looking, and that creeped even me out.

Yeah, I definitely needed to leave.

Shuddering, I slid off the wooden chair and tossed my cup into the recycling. Will was busy cleaning the counter, and I didn’t want to interrupt him, so I tried to slip by unnoticed. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he did notice, and called out to me. “Hey, wait!”

I paused, turning toward him. “Yeah?”

“I have something for you,” he said, beckoning me toward him.

For a brief moment I prayed it was his phone number, but when he revealed a to-go pastry box, I felt faintly dismayed, but still excited. “For me?” I echoed, taking a few steps toward the counter.

“Did you like the cheesecake?” he asked.

I nodded. “It was amazing.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll like this,” he told me with a lopsided grin that was absolutely too cute. And I was beginning to start to sound shallow. “It’s not cheesecake, but…”

“I’m sure I’ll like it too,” I replied, trying not to let my smile grow too wide. This didn’t mean anything. Will was just a friendly guy, giving one of his customers a treat. But I hadn’t noticed him giving anyone else anything…

Dimitri raised an eyebrow at us, but said nothing. After saying our goodbyes, I headed out of the coffee shop, and into the safety of my car before opening the pastry box. Inside was something that resembled chocolate cake, complete with chocolate frosting and white frosting flowers. There was also a little note.

This is hazelnut cake. You should try things you don’t like from time to time. You may find you’ve changed your mind about them.

—Will.

Cautiously, I took a chunk of the cake off with my bare fingers and placed it into my mouth. It was succulent, soft, and perfect.

*

This continued for the next few weeks. And by this, I meant me stopping by the coffee shop and ordering a coffee, chatting with Will and Dimitri (if he was working, sometimes it was just Will) until the next customer arrived, drinking my beverage by myself, and then leaving, sometimes with a new pastry Will gave me. The pastries were always free, but I’d started paying for my drinks (by my demand).

I’d yet to give them my name, since we’d never properly introduced ourselves to each other, which was a little weird. But whatever.

“Katie, can you wash the floor in room 620C?” my co-worker, a middle-aged woman named Rita, called to me from down the hall.

Currently, I was washing hospital windows that could never seem to stay clean. There weren’t many patients here, and I was positive they didn’t breathe over or touch the windows often, so it didn’t make sense how there were always a thousand smudges and gross, unidentifiable schmoop on them. “Sure thing,” I responded, dropping my rag onto the windowsill. “Have someone else finish up over here.”

“Okay.”

A yawn escaped my lips as I headed down to my assigned room, stopping by the supply closet briefly to snatch one of the Swiffer mops and a new sheet for it. It was already dark outside, and a quick peek at my cell phone told me it was 10:30 PM. Only half an hour left until my shift was over. Working in the hospital wasn’t hard, but it was tedious, and on a Thursday night with a Friday morning class, it was akin to Hell.

Not too mention it’ was scary as Hell, too.

My footsteps echoed loudly in the empty hallway. The sixth floor was always vacant, clear of both patients and staff. It was only used when there was an abundance of patients, and that was hardly ever. It’d been used once in my three years of working here. So while it was nice not to be bothered by people, it was a bit unnerving and lonely.

Like all the doors on this floor, it was locked, and I had to use my skeleton key to open it. The key was a privileged I’d earned, just like my eleven dollars an hour pay, while some of my other co-workers were still only earning minimum wage. They didn’t know I mad more than them, though. I wasn’t one to brag. Except to myself. Although I also suspected my pay had something to do with the fact that the owner of the hospital had been a friend of my mother’s and knew of my financial situation.

Halfway through mopping the floor of the unused hospital room, my cell phone started buzzing in my pocket. There were rules saying we weren’t allowed to use our phones on the job, but since there was no one around to witness it, I decided to answer. Which was a good thing, too, because it was Dustin. “Is something wrong?” I asked quickly, fear welling up in my chest. “Are you okay?”

“Relax, I’m fine,” he responded and I could imagine him rolling his eyes. “I’m sixteen, not twelve.”

“Yeah, well, whatever,” I muttered, resuming my mopping. “What’s up?”

“There’s arguing going on outside.”

I froze, the fear returning at full force. “What?”

“Not at our house,” Dustin specified calmly, “but in our neighbor’s driveway. To the left. They’re shouting. I can hear them from the living room with the window open. Can’t make out what they’re saying though.”

“Our neighbor’s? Someone actually lives there? Lock the doors.”

“Already did. I just wanted to call ahead and forewarn you. They’ve been going at it for at least fifteen minutes now.”

Frowning, I brushed my hair behind my ears. “Weird. Just… stay inside. I’ll be home soon. Have you eaten?”

“Yes, Mom.”

I ignored his sarcasm. “Homework?”

“Done.”

“Good. I have to finish up this room, and then I’ll see if I can head out early. If someone knocks at the door, don’t answer. And if anything else happens call the police.”

Dustin sighed. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Dustin.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. See you later.”

“Bye,” I said with a frown as the other line clicks, signaling that he’d hung up. It was a fifteen-minute drive from the hospital to my house, so I briskly cleaned the rest of the floor before returning the mop to the supply closet and tracking down Rita. After a brief explanation of what was happening back at my house, she agreed to let me go; saying the rest of the crew could finish up. I thanked her and hurriedly headed home.

The lights at our neighbor’s house were off as I slowly drove down our street. I squinted, trying to make out any movement in their driveway under the streetlamp’s glow. There was nothing there. Pulling into my driveway, I cut the engine, windows down, straining my ears to catch a hint of a noise. Once again, there was nothing. A few more moments of silence passed, and then I jumped as I hear a yell. Holding my breath, stay absolutely still, ears straining.

There were noises— low, incoherent voices. Unfamiliar voices. Whatever argument that’d been going on must have came to a lull. Or ended. Either way, it was a good thing.

I decided to climb out of the car then, figuring Dustin might’ve heard something more between his phone call and now. Before I even took three steps, another shout came from behind me. This time closer, and directed at me. My whole body tensed and I caught my breath, wondering what to do. Ignore it? Run for my house? Shaking my head, I straightened out my shoulders and twisted on my heel, braving the voice. “Yes?”

My voice came out more confident than I’d expected and I felt a little burst of pride.

“Do you know what time your neighbor usually gets homes?” came the other voice. I couldn’t see whom it belonged to, even with the glow of the streetlamp. My neighbor’s house was too dark, pitch black. But judging by the pitch and tone, it was a man speaking— an annoyed man.

Shifting on my feet nervously, I shrugged, and then realized this guy probably couldn’t see me either. Probably just heard me climbing out of my car. “No, I’ve never seen anyone in that house.”

There was silence for a few seconds, and I began to think whoever was speaking had walked away, but all of a sudden there was a young man in front of me. Startled, I took a step backward. The stranger took a step forward, a scowl on his rugged face. He was hard to make it out, but from what I could see, he might’ve been in his late twenties, with medium length dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes. There was a little stubble on his chin, and his general physique screamed I work out. Suddenly I was one hundred and fifty percent more nervous. “You sure?” he asked, voice like steel.

“Positive.” And thank God my voice was as steady as could be. “I only moved in a few weeks ago, but the place has been empty since.”

“Yeah, well, if you see your neighbor, you drop them a note about how I’m looking for them and if they don’t show, I won’t play nice anymore.” The threat in his tone was unmistakable.

Great. So my neighbor, who was never around, was probably some ex-convict or something. Just when I thought I’d gotten out of the danger zone…

“Are you listening?”

I nearly jumped, but somehow was able to control myself. “Yeah, I heard you, no need to be rude,” I snapped, unable to help myself. Then I mentally berated myself, because there was no way I could take on a two hundred pound dude while I weighed a measly one hundred and fifteen.

“Just describe me. It’ll be enough. My friends will be dropping by every now and again,” the stranger said, his face twisting into another scowl. “I suggest you keep out of the way.”

“Right.”

He stared at me for a few seconds more, eyes scrutinizing my face. Uncomfortable, I turned away, toward the light that was shining through the living room window. By the time I looked back, the man was gone, and I was alone. Twisting on my heel, I hurried up the steps to my front door, slipped in, and locked and bolted it behind me. Then I let out a long breath of relief.

I could only think one thing: what the hell was that?

“Please don’t let my non-existent neighbor be part of the mafia,” I begged, running a hand over my face. “Jesus…”

Dustin was sprawled out on the couch, gazing mindlessly at the television when I entered the living room. He started when he heard my entrance into the room, turning his attention toward me. “Welcome home,” he greeted me before returning his focus to the television. “The arguing stopped about ten minutes after I called you. Then someone peeled out of the driveway over there and disappeared. It’s been quiet since.”

Nodding, my eyes flickered over to the window. I decided not to mention my little run in. “That’s good. You didn’t hear what it was about?”

Shaking his head, Dustin frowned. “Nope. I tried though. I think they might’ve been arguing about money? Not sure though.”

Money? The mafia theory was starting to sound more and more plausible.

“Don’t worry about it, maybe someone rear-ended someone else,” I told him, picking up the remote and switching off the T.V. “Now, bedtime.”

“Bedtime?” Dustin echoed skeptically. “Since when do I have a bedtime?”

“Since tomorrow you have a test— no, don’t you try to deny it. You told me about it last week. Yeah, I remember,” I said smugly, soaking in Dustin’s annoyed expression.

Albeit looking reluctant, he stood up from the couch. “You act more and more like Mom each day.”

“Hey.”

“I never said it was a bad thing. Slightly irritating, but not a bad thing,” he explained, furrowing his eyebrow. “Weird, too…”

After shooting him a lackluster dirty look, I shooed him off to bed while I did the same. Despite my protests, I took pride knowing I was starting to act like my mom. It showed I was mature, which was what I was going for. And my mom had been an amazing person. The type of mom who’d bake cookies whenever I brought friends over without us having to ask first. The type of mom who’d rather blow off all her meetings than miss field day. The type of mom who kissed every bruise and wound, and disinfected everything.

She had been a good woman who deserved to live way longer than she did.

I climbed into my bed, my head filled with memories of my mother. Most of them were pleasant, but there were a few, like her death, which were distressing. Stuffing my face into my pillow, I banished them from my mind. It was too hard to fall asleep while reminiscing. And I needed to be up in seven hours to bring Dustin to school.

Groaning, I closed my eyes, and waited for sleep.