it was a frosty saturday morning in late november when you found yourself volunteering at the school’s charity event. the air was biting, and your breath came out in small clouds, but the cheerful chatter of students and staff made the cold bearable. you were stationed at the donation booth, handing out receipts to those who contributed.

riki, a boy from the grade above you, arrived with a group of friends, his bright smile standing out even against the gray sky. you'd seen him around before—he was hard to miss with his tall frame and easy charm—but you had never spoken. he approached your booth with a box of canned goods, his cheeks pink from the cold.

“hi,” he greeted, placing the box on the table. his voice was light, and you noticed the way his dark hair fell into his eyes. “this is for the food drive.”

“thank you,” you replied, a little flustered as you scribbled a receipt for him. when you handed it over, your fingers brushed for a moment, cold against cold.

riki lingered, his friends having moved on to another booth. “are you here all day?”

you nodded. “until three. you?”

“same,” he said, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. “but i’m at the games booth. it’s warmer there. you should stop by later.”

you weren’t sure why he said it, but the casual invitation warmed you more than the thick scarf around your neck.

as the hours passed, you couldn’t help glancing toward the games booth. riki was there, cheering loudly as kids tried to win prizes. his energy was contagious, and it made the cold feel a little less harsh.

near the end of the event, he showed up again at your booth, holding two cups of hot chocolate. he handed one to you, his smile sheepish. “figured you could use this.”

you took it, your fingers brushing his again. “thanks.”

“so,” he said, rocking on his heels, “maybe next time, we volunteer at the same booth?”