"Rules! We need rules!" I clap my hands together quickly drawing his attention towards me suddenly.

"Rules." He says blankly. "Angel, you know I don't play by the rules." However annoying his smirk may have once been, it is endearing to me by now.

"Ra-afe!" He rolls his eyes but listens. Tilting his body towards me slightly as we walk towards the University together. I stumble over an uneven corner of pavement and he reaches out an arm to steady me and I don't fall. His touch comforts me and I want to lean into it but I remember that the rules do not only apply to Rafe but also to me.

"Okay, uh, rules, rules. Right! Rule one: no girls."

"What?" His voice is almost incredulous. I start to repeat what I said but he cuts me off. "No, I heard you but why?"

"I don't know. It's a little unsavoury for you to be fu-"

"Alright. Alright! Seriously though Angel, would it kill you to admit -to accept- that you still love me." I don't know what to say to that, so I carry on.

"Two. You absolutely must wash the dishes. I hate it! It's so boring and menial and it dries out my skin." I study my cuticles and take some moisturizer out of my bag and massage it into my skin. "Ooooh, and three is that you have to come grocery shopping with me as well."

"Grocery shopping." He says the two words as if tasting them in his mouth. "Mmmkay. Any others?"

I swallow uncertainly, debating whether or not to say it. But there is a sudden gust of wind that drags with it the salty scent of the sea, an alluring siren's call wrapped up in a seemingly innocent natural perfume, and I know that I must let it out. So I say in a quieter, more serious tone of voice, "Rafe. If I am ever gone with no note nor message, look for me at the cliff face, deep within the forest."

He laughs but hesitates when he sees me turn away, when he realises that I am serious. "Evie? What do you mean? Oh my god, you're not suicidal, are you?"

Am I? I don't think so. The voice that calls for me from the water is not my own. I shake my head at him. Then change the subject. "Five. Coffee."

"Coffee?"

"Yeah, you gotta make sure we're fully stocked at home. I mean, you drink wayyyy more coffee than me but sometimes I am totally, like, craving something dark and bitter." His laugh cuts through the air. It is a mellifluous sound. I am sure that he's thinking as if! But he'd be surprised.

"Like me, Angel?" I consider my first impression of him. I really had thought of him as too dark, hot and bitter for me. But now that I know him, he's different.

"No! You're fluffy and nice. Like a marshmallow." He looks aghast at that. I poke him in the stomach, where he is nothing like a marshmallow, only toned, tanned skin there.

"I swear, Evangeline Leger, if you ever say that again I will murder you."

I giggle. "That's okay. You've been calling me Angel for so long that I can't wait to truly become one." I stiffen slightly as I realise that I've insinuated that I am not a good person and that I am suicidal? Oh my god. I don't mean it? Do I? I hope Rafe doesn't notice and just assumes it to be part of my morbid millennial sense of humour. It seems he hasn't. He pushes open the door to Tilbury's and holds it for me.

Maria isn't there. I remember that she has an early class today. We spend ages waiting. The fairy lights in the café are on and there is a small string of them entwined around a blackboard. In stark white stick letters, somebody has written in chalk, "freshly ground coffee!!!" I see Rafe curl his lip in disgust at the excessive exclamation mark usage and he casts a cutting look at the barista, a man with a haphazard pile of dark dreadlocks stuffed into a messy bun. Dark shadows curl around his biceps, trailing down his arms and I realise he has sleeve tattoos along both of his arms. The man gives me a wide smile and winks at me. It's quite unexpected and I take a step back, crashing into Rafe who casually swings an arm around my shoulders.

"What do you want, Angel?" Says Rafe.

"Uhm. A medium cappuccino. With a shot of hazelnut please." I cast Rafe a look. He doesn't look so tired today so maybe not a long black? "And a medium, uh, double strength flat white?" He gives me an approving look and I smile.

The barista scribbles everything down and we pay before retreating to a quiet corner of the room. I didn't really like him and the way that he overzealously pours our coffees, showing off immensely. He had kind of an intense aura and I say so to Rafe who agrees. But I think he only says so because the guy winked at me.

We collect the coffees when they're done. 'Angel' is written with a thick untidy scrawl upon my paper cup. There's even a halo and two scrappy tree-like fronds that stick out from the word. I guess they're angel wings?

Rafe peers at his cup, trying to discern the writing. "I think it says dude? Or devil maybe?" I say uncertainly. Rafe scoffs at that.

"Evangeline," he replies peering at my cup and snorting at the rather poor drawing skills of the barista. He gestures at his own cup. "This clearly says 'douche.'"

"What, no." But a smile tugs at my lips. He's right, of course. I guess the barista really didn't like him. I snap a photo on my phone of Rafe holding up the cup -with a seriously unimpressed expression- and I send it to Maria to laugh about.

"This coffee tastes like dirt," he grumbles and I laugh aloud at that.

"Well, what do you expect? It was just ground this morning!" And I point at the sign through the glass storefront. His irritated expression fades when I say that and he laughs too, before dumping his barely touched coffee into a nearby bin.

When Rafe's not looking, I load the photo I'd just taken of him into my Korean selfie app and select the demon filter so that he has little red devil horns and a tail. Then I make that his contact image. Cute.

We walk to class and I don't see him until the end of the day. I'm working at the bookshop and Noah and I finally have time alone together. I feel like it hasn't been just him and I for ages and the comfortable silence that settles among us as he studies and I put out new books is serene. Tranquil, even. Eventually he finishes studying and I finish sweeping the store and we just sit together talking as he sketches. We talk for forever and then after that, I find myself just staring into space, lost in thought. He says something.

"What?" I say balndly as I snap out of my stupor. My back is pressed against a bookshelf and he is sitting opposite me with his legs stretched out.

"I said, I'm done. Ta-da!" He turns his sketch book towards me and I smile. It's a gorgeous design. So beautiful. A dress, black, strapless. Although the front of the skirt is short, barely knee length, the back spirals out into rectangular pleats layered atop one another. It's dramatic yet elegant. Extravagant yet refined.

And I tell him so. And then, after I interrogate him about the material and the detailing, I sigh, realising a bitter truth. "Oh, Noah. Does that mean I won't be seeing you for ages then?" Whenever he creates a new design, I don't see him for weeks. Sometimes he does work with seamstress and couturiers but he usually prefers to do everything himself.

"Maybe," He says loftily. "Hey, Evie?"

"Mmh hmm." Imagine wearing a dress like that. So gorgeous.

"Would you attend the show?"

"What? What! Oh my gosh Noah! Is this...?"

"Yep. One of the biggest fashion weeks in the world." Oh my gosh, Noah! I feel so immensely proud of my best friend.

"Noah! Do you have any idea what this will do for your career?"

"Only a vague idea..." He's so modest. He'll be skyrocketing into virtually every Vogue magazine in the world after this. Oh, Noah. I realise that it may get seventy million times harder for us to meet up, but somehow I don't feel so anxious anymore. I'm no longer the shy, perpetually worried girl that Noah left earlier in the year, all those months ago. Although I do get the random pang of nervousness and sudden tremors of fear in regards to my curse and the terrifying lure of the ocean, I feel calmer, my own person. And I know that regardless of where we are in the world, however thousands of miles apart we are, we have the kind of ride-or-die friendship that will endure forever.

Eventually, my shift ends and I lock up the store. I hug Noah and he peers over my shoulders and I hear him laugh at something I can see, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest.

"Here comes your boyfriend, Evie!"

"Shhhh, Noah. We're not-"

"No. Of course not." He shakes his head at me, laughing gleefully. "You can lie to yourself, Evie darling, but you can't lie to me." I wait in front of the bookstore for Rafe. Noah walks towards him and they exchange a few words. About what, I don't know, but they both seem happy. When Rafe reaches me, we greet each other. I wave at Noah before Rafe and I start walking in the opposite direction.

"So, Rich Boy Archer, guess where we're going?"

"Where." He's wearing an army green bomber jacket and tight black jeans.

"No! Guess!"

"Uh. Home...?"

"Dude, you're not even trying. We're going to the groceryyyyy storeee." I sing the last two words out. Rafe brushes a hand through his hair. "Uh, you have been to a grocery store before, right?"

"Ye-es." He sounds uncertain. "A few times."

"Oh, how exciting! Your first grocery store visit."

"Hey, not so loud!" He glances about furtively. "And, Leger, as I've just said, I have been shopping before."

"Yeah, but not grocery shopping!"

"Whyyy do you keep saying grocery?"

"I just like the word. Isn't it nice? Gro-ce-ry."

"Evie, you are so weird, I swear." But I can see that he only half means it.

"But you still love me, right?" I say jokingly, meaning nothing of it. I say it to Noah all the time, in an offhand kind of way.

"Yes." He says solemnly. "Oh. Well, I did." He says, perhaps realising that we've broken up.

Awkward.

An uncomfortable silence settles upon us as we approach Leo's Fine Food and Wine. I inhale, my breath catching slightly and Rafe cuts me off before I can say anything.

"I swear to god, if you say it one more time-"

"What? What will you do, Archer?" I laugh wickedly. And he rolls his eyes, following me as I run into the store.

The grocery store.

*

The store is so gorgeous that it's honestly quite instagramable. Sometimes it take my breath away how beautiful everything in Astoria is. Fresh calla lilies and roses nestle within wooden crates creating a very wholesome atmosphere. The petals glisten slightly as if they have just been plucked from a meadow, and their wonderful scent lingers in the air, clings to us as we enter the store. There is a juicing machine. There's nobody operating it but the machine churns mechanically nonetheless, crushing peeled oranges in a spray of pulp, its smooth metal body moving its joints in harmony.

There are no shopping trolleys, just sleek black baskets. I ahte trolleys anyways (legit always freak about the germs on the handles.) Rafe grabs one straight away and I, oddly, feel so proud of him. He gives me a mock exasperated sigh. Straight away, I grab some avocados and bread. I've been craving avocado toast for what feels like forever. But Leo's doesn't sell regular white bread -fine by me, I don't like it- so I pick a baguette and a sourdough loaf.

We walk through the fresh foods section, and I pick out some vegetables. As I inspect a bundle of asparagus stalks, I call over my shoulder to Rafe. "See anything you want?" He stares at me and I give him a look back, like what?

He scoffs at how earnest I am in the store but it's true. Ever since I moved to Astoria and have had to do my own shopping, I feel so adult preparing and cooking my own meals. It's like life is really happening to me. I don't try to explain to Rafe. It's a weird feeling, quite indescribable. I remember experiencing it most keenly for the first time when high school ended.

That small slice of empty time in the summer before college when life's responsibilities seem stacked, just waiting for you.

I still experience it every day.

We wander though the meat section and I pick up a few packages, bundling them into the basket. I offer to take it from Rafe and he declines and so we drift on through the place. There are a few people milling about but it's pretty quiet. I get some coffee and put it in the basket and then my phone chimes.

We're in the middle of a weird section. At one end is ornate tea sets, an entire wall that looks like boxes stacked atop each other, a myriad of pigeon holes, and within each one sits a different kind of tea. Kind of like T2. There are bags upon bags upon bags. English breakfast, jasmine, Melbourne breakfast, peppermint.

At the other end of the aisle is a pyramid of tampons and pads, but you wouldn't know it just by looking. All the items are wrapped up in quaint little paper boxes, intricately decorated with whorls and curlicues of gold. They sit atop one another so precariously that it would take a mere glance in the wrong direction to topple it. In the middle of the aisle is cards. It's so random but that's how it is. Hand-painted greeting cards, birthday cards, miss you cards. Each one with an individual design, a dragonfly with an elaborate net of pencilled lines for wings, or a haunting painting of a birdcage, empty save for a few curling tendrils of vine. The store is exquisite and I am slightly envious of Rafe's first time experience of it.

I amble along slowly, unlocking my phone to take a photo of him and I notice that I have an unread email. I open the app to check it out. It's from the University. My breath hitches in my throat.

Dear Evangeline,
Congratulations, we are pleased to offer you a place in the Bachelor of Biomedical Science.

Oh my gosh. Woah woah.

I skim read the rest of the email and my eyes alight on something else. Oh my gosh.

At Astoria, we're game changers, inspirers, leaders and innovators. Evangeline Leger, we believe you are too.

We are excited to offer you the Astoria Science Excellence Scholarship.

That's it. I literally shriek in the middle of Leo's Grocery Store. For a second, the sultry, classy jazz music seems to pause and the only sound in the store is my heart rate, and my cry of joy.

"RAFE! I got in! With a scholarship too! I'm going to be a scientist!" A lady in a nearby aisle hides her expression of disapproval at my unruly behaviour when she hears the news. I am utterly ecstatic. I throw myself at Rafe, catching him unawares, and wrap my arms tight around him. He stumbles back for a second and we tumble against the shelves of tea.

"That's wonderful! I'm proud of you Evie! So happy for you. I knew you'd get in, see!"

"Yes, Archer. You should so totally join MadeLucky's detective agency because you are always right!" There's no malice in my voice though, I am so happy. The shelf behind us starts to rock and then sleek black bags of tea begin to rain down on us.

"Woah." Rafe drops the basket to the floor and starts to catch some of the falling bags, hastily, haphazardly, shoving them back into the self. A heavier box falls and he catches it, clutches it tightly. And I sweep up an armful of those chic black packages and shove them into any spare opening. "C'mon, we gotta get outta here!" A giggle tumbles out of me, the sound, bright, bubbly, vibrant.

I sweep the basket into my arms and hurriedly scan everything in the self-serve checkout, tugging all the items into brown paper bags. We tumble out of the store both laughing, breathless with ecstasy and it is only when we're at the top of the street that my apartment is located in that I realise that Rafe is still holding that one heavy box from the tea section.

"Oh my god!" I shriek.

"What! What?"

"Rich Boy Archer, you, a billionaire, just ... shoplifted!" The laughter spills out of me. Oh, the irony of it all.

"What?" Rafe yelps, startled as he realises that he's still carrying that box. I don't know how neither of us noticed seeing as he's got a large brown paper bag packed with groceries bundled within one arm and the box ensnared within the other.

"What the hell? Since when did I have this?" I can't stop laughing.

"Dude! What even is it?"

We collapse on the verandah of the house, letting the groceries rest on the Adirondack chairs out front and we sprawl, cross-legged on the wooden slats of wood. A new shoot of ivy has started to trail its way around the banister and it tickles my hair slightly as I lean against it. Rafe fiddles with the box for a second and finally the whole thing collapses open and we both crowd around the thing as the late afternoon sunlight glistens off our new treasure.

***

Author's note:

Okey, I feel like talking.

First up, Noah. Ugh, I so loved him at the start because he was, like, a hybrid of three of my closest (guy) friends in the world. But each of those boys have now betrayed me in their own individual way (~from bae to blocked~) and now I hate them all and I hate Noah too. A tragedy, right. But there you go. My best friend says I should just stick to classy Rafe-esque guys, I think I'll stick to fictional boys for now, thank you very much.

The grocery store and whole description in this is literally based off the one in my home town. It's so gorgeously decadent and luxurious. That whole prettily written tangent about T2 and the gorgeous tampon packaging and juicing machine is literally me transcribing a memory from the summer before uni; my other best friend and I spent like an hour just randomly walking through the store during the summer before he left for law school and I left for pre-med. So I guess it's a lil filler thing, but it's more of a preservation of memory for me because we hardly ever see each other any more and I miss him so fucking much. So please excuse that.

Also. Speaking of pre-med, or biomed, that lil scholarship email is literally based off the email I got from uni when I got accepted so look at how much of my life is spilling into this story hehe. Nevermind, it gets ~weird and totally fictional from here on out (from memory).

No clue what this little spill sesh is about but I felt like talking, or well, writing. So to my, like, two readers, if you're still here, HEY!! I love you for reading this totally irrelevant tangent (and my story, per se!!!) Hope you're doing well and staying safe, especially during this uncertain corona time. <3 xxx