A bell clings merrily to welcome me inside as I open the door of Peak & Pine. The coffee shop was practically hidden among the small, outdated buildings of downtown West Rye—a term used rather generously, considering the town's small size. I just knew I needed some caffeine, and when the cozy-looking shop popped up in a quick Google search, I decided that it seemed like the perfect atmosphere for my call with Yasmin. Two birds with one stone.

My choice is affirmed when I step inside and notice the warm-colored fairy lights strung across the taupe walls and the potted plants hanging from the ceiling. A few locals sit at the tables scattered around the shop's interior, sipping at their steaming drinks as they chat companionably or bury their heads in their books. I hug my arms around myself, feeling suddenly self-conscious. The smell of coffee beans helps to quell some of my anxiety as I approach the counter to study the menu written behind it in chalk.

"Welcome!" The barista greets, shuffling around behind the counter as she stirs a drink. "I'll be with you in just a sec, ma'am."

I grimace. Even with my short hair and my chest hidden in a hooded sweatshirt, I still don't pass. I force a smile as she hands off the finished drink to another customer and turns back to me.

"Alright, what can I get for you?"

"Um, could I just get an iced mocha? Whatever your smallest size is." I answer. My eyes wander to the glass display case sitting atop the counter, which seems to showcase a variety of pastries. "And, um, a chocolate croissant, please?"

"Okay, great! That'll be $7.25. Will you be paying cash or card?"

"Um, card." Upon the barista's request, I insert my credit card into the machine. When I remove it and the receipt begins to print, she looks up at me.

"And could I get a name for your order?"

"Nikolas."

The barista's eyebrows hitch upwards, her lips forming into a surprised 'O' as she realizes her earlier mistake. She offers me a somewhat awkward smile. "You can pick up your drink at the end of the counter when it's ready. Should be just a few minutes. And I'll get your croissant in the meantime."

I nod my thanks as I take a step back and pull out my phone—if only for the excuse to avoid eye contact with everyone around me. Yasmin hasn't texted yet, but she promised me earlier that she would let me know when she's available to call.

"Nikolas, chocolate croissant?" The barista calls out, and I collect the wrapped pastry from her. A few minutes later, she passes my drink over the counter as well. With the treat and coffee in my hands, I wander over to an empty table toward the front of the shop. As I sit down, my phone buzzes.

Yasmin: ready when you are!

Perfect timing. I smile as I grab my laptop from the tote bag I brought with me, setting up the platform for the video call. I take a breath—as if to mentally prepare myself—and call Yasmin.

She picks up after less than a minute, rewarding me with an unfocused close-up of her nose filling my computer screen.

"Yas!" I chide with a snort.

I watch as her nose crinkles with a smile before she moves the camera further back, allowing me to see her full face. She winks at me. "'Sup, Nik."

I roll my eyes, unwrapping my croissant. "Did you forget how to aim your camera, or were you wanting me to look up your nose?" Her mischievous grin is the only answer I need. "Should have known, considering it happens every time we video chat."

"Hey, last time it was my mouth. So... Consider yourself lucky." Yasmin laughs, absentmindedly twirling one of her hot pink braids around her finger.

"You changed your hair." I comment as I stuff a bite of my pastry into my mouth. 

"Astute observation."

"You're so mean to me," I pout. "Besides, it was just dreads, like, not even a week ago."

"Yeah, got it done just a couple days ago." She replies, smirking at my expression. She tosses her head of braids over her shoulder. "What do you think?"

I squint my eyes, pretending to deeply study her. "Hmm. You don't look half bad."

"And you call me mean."

"I'm kidding," I assure her with a chuckle. "It looks great. Pink is definitely your color." It's the truth; the contrast of the bright color against her dark skin seems to fit her well—not to mention the fact that it seems to match her bubbly, extroverted personality.

"That's what I thought."

"You're so full of yourself."

Yasmin laughs. "Okay, fine, let's talk about you, then. What's going on with the amazing Nikolas Hoffman?"

"Not a whole lot," I admit. "I'm just trying to relax for once. Honestly, if this vacation ends up being uneventful, I'd be satisfied."

"You're so boring," she groans. "But I guess I can understand that. You definitely deserve a break." I watch as Yasmin flops down onto her back, her camera shaking as she adjusts her position. She must be lying in bed. "So it's going okay so far? No excitement to keep me up to date on?"

"Not really. I haven't really done..." I trail off. "Well, actually, there is one thing you might be interested in hearing about."

Her eyes widen. I've definitely gotten her attention. "Yeah? Spill."

Rolling my eyes, I take a sip of my iced mocha, letting Yasmin's anticipation build as I gather my thoughts. "One word. Well, name. Axel."

"Holy shit. Reed's there?"

I just nod.

"Holy shit," Yasmin repeats in a bewildered hiss. "Who'd have guessed that guy would be in the same town as you? Some podunk, unknown town in East... Where are you again?"

"West Rye, California," I reply with a chuckle. "But, yeah, it's weird, right?"

"Definitely weird. I didn't think some big star like him would ever step foot in that kind of place."

"Yeah, I don't know what the deal is. He's even staying at the same hotel as me, which is a crazy coincidence," I lower my gaze, raising my cup to take a sip of my iced mocha. The condensation dampens my hand. "I haven't seen him in... Well, since..."

"Since he became the most massive jerk on Earth?" Yasmin narrows her eyes. "Ugh, I wish I was there just so I could slap his stupid asshole face."

I snort. "It's fine. I'm on vacation. I don't want to worry about Jerk-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named." 

"Yeah, well..." She sighs. "I don't know, Nik. I'm worried about you."

I open my mouth, but the words don't come out. I let my gaze fall to my half-eaten croissant and begin to tear it into flaky pieces, feeling the sudden need to keep my hands busy. 

My thoughts still drift without my permission. Flashes of Axel and I in high school fill my mind. Playing video games together. Walking to and from school together. Laughing together. A long time ago, it wasn't like it is now. A long time ago, things were... Good. But not anymore. As my thoughts shift and distort, I recall snapshots of the not-so-good memories. Laughter—not shared, but targeted at me. Teasing comments. Disgusted glares.

Shaking my head, I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them again, Yasmin is watching me through the screen, an expression of concern on her face.

"Axel is just a bully," I snap, my eyebrows furrowed. "Even now, all he wants is to get attention by whatever means he can. He doesn't care about m— He doesn't care about anyone around him. He never has."

A tinkle of bells rings through the air as someone enters the shop. I take a gulp of my coffee. 

"You should have seen him at the pool yesterday," I continue, scoffing. "Splashing around, making a big scene. No regard for the people around him at all."

"He's an asshole." Yasmin agrees.

"I don't even know why he's here in the first place. This is probably just some publicity stunt. Some way to get people to pay attention to him now that he's done with his tour." I pick up the soggy napkin from beneath my drink, crumpling it into a ball. "Because if people give him attention, he'll feel like he's worth something. He'll feel like he's more than just the shallow, two-faced, transphobic—"

Someone bumps into my chair from behind, shoving my stomach into the table in front of me. My iced mocha tips over and I lunge to grab it before it can spill on my laptop's keyboard. "Hey, watch it!"

"Nik." Yasmin warns. I glance over at her, raising an eyebrow, but she just points at me. No, not at me. She's pointing at something—or someone—behind me.

I turn. Axel Reed stands only a couple of feet away, holding up his hands in a silent apology as he stumbles away from my chair, blue eyes wide. I watch as he hurries toward the door and leaves the coffee shop. Huh, he didn't even order anything.

"Do you think... Do you think he heard me?" I ask tentatively, turning back to Yasmin.

She forces a smile. "Pfft. No. Definitely, um, not."

"Yeah, he totally heard me."