She smacks my arm. “Rude.”
“Well,” I say, lifting my hands defensively, “I’m very glad you did. Otherwise I’d still be sitting here listening to that girl tell me about her childhood dog.”
Maddy laughs. “No worries.”
She shakes her head with a small smile before pointing at my cup. “That coffee’s definitely cold by now. I’ll make you a new one.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say, but she waves a hand dismissively. “It’s no trouble.”
She stands up and walks behind the counter, greeting the girls working with a quick wave. I watch her pull her phone from somewhere behind the register before slipping it into the back pocket of her jeans. A minute later she comes back over with a fresh cup of coffee and sets it down in front of me.
“Thanks. I owe you.”
“Oh, absolutely,” she says lightly. “I’ll remember that if I ever need something.”
She gives me a small smile before heading toward the door. “See you later, Ry.” The bell rings again as she steps outside and I sit there for a second, shaking my head before taking a sip of the new coffee. I don’t know how she does it, everyone here makes great coffee, but somehow, Maddy always gets it exactly right.
I close my eyes after the second sip, just enjoying the taste of the freshly poured coffee, thinking about how Maddy just saved me a few future grey hairs.
7
MADDY
What did I just agree to?
I’ve spent most of the day holed up in my room, buried in auscultation—aka listening to people’s insides through a stethoscope on video and pretending I know exactly what I’m hearing.
I chose nursing after my mom passed away. Because I met thekindestnurses there, who made me realize I really wanted to work in a hospital. Watching how steady and dedicated they are honestly left me in awe. But even before all of that, I always dreamt of working in a hospital. Noah still has a picture from one Halloween when I was little; me dressed as a doctor, stethoscope around my neck, oversized light-blue shirt, clutching a tiny emergency kit like I was about to save lives on the spot. I looked very serious about it, too.
There’s just something about the medical terms, the science, the way helping someone can be as simple as listening, that’s always made sense to me.
That said, loving what I study doesn’t mean I love every second of studying. Because at the end of the day, it’s still school and no amount of passion makes memorizing lung sounds feel thrilling.
It’s barely eight, but the sky outside is already fully dark. I grab my laptop and tug a blanket off the back of my chair on my way downstairs. Low voices from Noah and Ryan drift from thekitchen. They have been studying together all day. Sunday study sessions are kind of their thing.
I slip out the back door and onto the porch, soft cool evening air brushing my face. I head toward our car, which is parked along the side of the house. The old light-blue truck Noah and I have shared since we both got our licenses. Brown leather seats, enough room in the back for my surfboards, a small scratch on the passenger door that I still swear wasn’t my fault.
I climb into the open back, crawl under my blanket, settling against the panel as the ocean hums somewhere in the distance. I like to do this whenever I’ve been in my room for too long and I need some fresh air.
After only a couple minutes, the front door creaks open and then slams shut, followed by Noah’s voice. “I’m late for marathon training! Kiara’s gonna kill me!”
I blink up just as he jogs past the truck, still putting on his running shoes, hopping on one leg.
“You? Late? Should I call the cops?” I yell after him and he shouts back from the street without slowing down. “Tell them I lived a good life!”
I shake my head, smiling.
“Is this the secret study cave?”
I glance up. Ryan’s hands are shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie, his brown curls moving in the wind and falling above his eyebrows.
“Shouldn't you be training with Noah and K?” I ask, looking back at my laptop.
“I prefer keeping my heart inside my chest.”
I laugh under my breath, still typing. “Fair.”
Ryan leans his arms on the side of the car. “Move over.”
