Lauren

Dakota clocked in and greeted the other baristas with a warm smile. She tied her apron while trading quick hellos and small jokes. Easy, low-stakes interactions that made the long shifts feel a little lighter. Then she fell into the rhythm without thinking — pull shots, steam milk, scribble names on cups.

Coffee. Tips. Rent.

A couple stood near the pickup station, waiting for their drinks. The woman had her hand resting lightly on the man's lower back while they talked. Dakota caught herself watching the casual way their bodies leaned toward each other. She looked away and called out the next name.

Another pair came in a few minutes later. Older, maybe in their forties. The man held the door open for the woman and touched the small of her back as she passed. Dakota watched them for half a second too long while she steamed oat milk, then shook it off and focused on the drink in front of her.

A little later, two men came through the door together. One held it open and the other stepped inside, and their hands found each other again almost immediately, fingers lacing together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Dakota caught the easy, unthinking closeness of it before she looked back down at the espresso machine.

Coffee. Tips. Rent.

She kept moving. Another couple at the counter, younger this time. The girl was laughing at something the guy said, her hand resting on his arm like it belonged there. Dakota wrote their names on the cups and passed the drinks over without meeting their eyes.

Near the end of the rush, two women came in and took a small table by the window. They leaned in close while they talked, one of them occasionally touching the other's wrist when she made a point. Dakota watched them for a second from behind the counter. When it came to women, she found the line between flirting and friendship was whisper thin. She felt a small, familiar flicker of uncertainty and looked away, focusing on the drink she was making.

The rush stayed steady. Every so often her eyes would catch on another pair — a man and woman standing outside under the awning sharing an umbrella, two people laughing over a shared pastry at the counter. Little snapshots of people choosing to be close.

She wiped down the counter harder than necessary and told herself to focus.

By the time the morning rush finally started to thin, Dakota's shoulders were tight. She rolled them once and glanced at the clock. Still hours left on this shift before she could even think about heading to the studio. She reached for the next cup, pen poised, and told herself it was just another Tuesday.

It didn't feel like just another Tuesday.

Dakota wiped down the counter one last time and glanced at the clock. She caught Joan's eye and nodded toward the back.

"I'm gonna clock out after this next one," she said.

Joan gave her a quick smile. "Sure thing. See you tomorrow to pick up your paycheck?"

"Yep," Dakota said. "See you tomorrow."

She turned back to the counter and immediately felt trapped.

There stood a woman with long blonde hair, some of it braided, the rest loose under a faded bandana. She was taller than Dakota, with a soft, sun-warmed look to her — long flowing skirt, halter top that gently pushed up the swell of her chest. She looked like she belonged at a farmer's market or a protest, the kind of woman who probably had strong opinions about essential oils and the moon cycle. Her face was softly heart-shaped, with high cheekbones and a scattering of faint freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were a clear, pale blue, and her full lips shone with a light gloss. She had multiple piercings in each ear, and a couple of braided leather bracelets circled one wrist. A thin silver chain rested against her collarbones, a small crystal pendant hanging from it and settling right between the generous swell of her breasts.

She was unquestionably beautiful.

Dakota felt her stomach drop and her pulse kick up hard in her throat.

She wanted to walk away. She wanted to tell her to fuck off. But she was still on the clock. So instead, she summoned every ounce of her customer service training and every acting class she'd ever taken, and offered a warm, professional smile.

"Good afternoon, Lauren. Your usual?"

Lauren's face lit up like Dakota had just handed her a gift.

As Dakota started making the drink, the low hum of the espresso machine filled the space between them. Lauren leaned lightly against the counter, watching her with an easy familiarity.

"Your shift is over soon, right?" she said, like she already knew.

Dakota kept her eyes on the drink she was making, trying to ignore the way her hands felt slightly unsteady. "I don't know…"

"Please," Lauren said, her voice softening. "Just a few minutes. For an old friend."

Dakota let out a quiet sigh. "Okay."

She finished the drink and slid it across the counter. Lauren took it with a small, grateful smile. Dakota clocked out, untied her apron, and hung it up. When she came back out from the back, Lauren was still waiting near the counter.

They walked together toward a small table in the back corner of the shop.

Lauren settled into the chair across from her and took a sip of her coffee before leaning forward slightly, her expression soft and concerned.

"So," she said, almost casually, "how are you feeling? How's the period? Are you still cramping pretty bad? Did you take anything for it?"

Dakota blinked. "What?"

"Aunt Flo," Lauren said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "How's Aunt Flo treating you? You should've started yesterday, right? You're usually really crampy on the first day. Are you still using those nasty tampons, or did you finally switch to something more ethical?"

Dakota stared at her. For a second, she genuinely didn't know what to say. In all her twenty-five years, she had never known a woman who wanted to discuss menstruation as much as Lauren did.

"I'm fine," she said finally, keeping her voice flat. "It's fine. Wait—are you tracking my cycle?"

Lauren gave a small, almost sheepish shrug. "Not on purpose. I just never got around to taking you out of the app. You know, the one I use to track my own. We were together for six months. It's not like I was checking it every day or anything."

Dakota let out a short, disbelieving breath. "We broke up. When you break up with someone, you unfollow them. You block them if you have to. And you definitely stop tracking their fucking period."

Lauren held up her hands in a placating gesture. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. That was weird. I get it." She took another sip of her coffee, then leaned in again, her voice softening. "I've been doing a lot of work on myself since we split. Really getting in touch with my own energy, learning how to hold space for myself and the people I care about. I've been doing shadow work, breathwork… all of it. I feel like I've actually grown."

She reached across the table and brushed her fingers lightly over the back of Dakota's hand.

"I really have missed you," she said. "I've been thinking about you a lot. How you would cry after you came and I would hold you. I miss that. I miss how open you were with me. How safe it felt to be that close to someone."

Dakota didn't answer. She just waited, fingers wrapped tight around her own cup.

Lauren's thumb brushed over her knuckles. "I know things got messy between us," Lauren continued. "I know I wasn't showing up the way I should have been. But I've really been doing the work. I've been learning how to hold space for myself and for the people I care about. I feel like I finally understand what I need in a connection."

She looked at Dakota with that familiar soft-eyed expression.

"I miss knowing someone the way I knew you," she said. "And having them know me. I miss how easy it was with us, when it was good. I've been craving that kind of intimacy again. That kind of safety."

Something in Dakota's chest loosened, just a fraction. It was stupid how easily Lauren could reach back and make the good parts feel close again.

Lauren's thumb brushed over her knuckles. "I know I don't deserve another chance. But if there's even a small part of you that's been thinking about me too… I'd really like to take you out. Just once. See if there's still something there."

Dakota didn't answer right away. Her thoughts felt slow, like they were moving through something warm and familiar. For a moment, it was easy to remember why she had fallen for her in the first place.

"I'll think about it," she heard herself say.

The second the words left her mouth, she felt them land. What the fuck did I just say?

Lauren's whole face brightened. "Yeah? Really?"

Dakota swallowed hard, already regretting it. She wanted to take it back, but the words were already out there.

"That's great," Lauren said, smiling like she'd won something. "That's really great, Dakota. Thank you."

She sat back, looking genuinely pleased. "Can I give you a ride to your acting class? You're still doing those, right?"

Dakota shook her head and stood up. "No. I'm good. I'll walk."

Lauren glanced toward the window, where the rain was still coming down. "In this?"

"Yeah," Dakota said, grabbing her bag. "I like the walk."

She turned and headed for the door before Lauren could say anything else.