Wheezie had been talking for the past twenty minutes straight. Rafe wasn’t listening. Something about book covers or bangles—he couldn’t care less. His eyes darted to the racks of clothes, the pastel cardigans, the carefully folded jeans. This store smelled like fake vanilla and overpriced fabric softener. He hated it.

“I swear, Sarah said this place had the cutest stuff,” Wheezie chirped as she reached for a glittery bracelet, holding it up to the light. “Do you think I should get the purple or the green?”

Rafe grunted. “Whichever one gets us out of here faster.”

Wheezie rolled her eyes and waved him off like an annoying fly. “Then go wander or something. Just don’t scare anyone.”

He was already turning away.

With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts, Rafe drifted deeper into the store, eyeing a rack of shirts before something—someone—caught his eye.

You.

You were standing by the register, showing a couple of tourists some earrings and laughing at something they said. The sound was soft, quick, easy. Your hands moved when you spoke—confident but not loud, totally in your element. You weren’t dressed like the Kooks he was used to seeing either. Nothing showy or shallow. You looked… real.

Rafe stopped in his tracks. He blinked once. Then again. His mouth might’ve even fallen open a bit, but he didn’t notice. His mind had gone kind of blank.

You turned slightly, and his heart jolted. He looked away, pretending to examine a stack of shirts that all looked exactly the same.

“Are you gonna say something or just keep following her with your eyes like a total psycho?”

Rafe nearly jumped. Wheezie was beside him now, arms crossed, smirking. “What?” he snapped too quickly. “No, I wasn’t—I was just—whatever.”

“You were staring,” she said, grinning wider now. “Hard. You should just go talk to her.”

“I’m not—God, shut up.”

But Wheezie was already pushing him forward, not loudly, but enough that it made him trip over his own feet and stumble a step in your direction.

He straightened his back. Took a breath.

And approached.

“Uh—hi,” he started, voice too loud. “Do you, um… do you work here?”

You blinked at him. “Yeah. Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I mean—no. I just… I saw you helping those people, and I thought—like, you’re good at it. Like, talking. With them. Customers.”

Your head tilted. The corners of your lips twitched.

Behind him, Wheezie let out a small, traitorous laugh.

He wanted to melt through the floor.

Rafe cleared his throat, eyes darting away again. “I’m Rafe. My sister dragged me here.”