The alarm clock on Layla's nightstand screamed at 4:45 AM, a jarring sound that felt like a physical blow in the silent house. Outside, Montreal was still wrapped in the deep, blue-black velvet of pre-dawn. As she pulled on her crisp new uniform, the brown polo and the visor that felt slightly too big, she caught her reflection in the mirror.
It felt surreal. She wasn't just a student or a girl caught between two neighbors anymore. She was a girl with a shift to start. She was a girl who was finally earning her own way to Thailand. The weight of the job hunt that had lasted two years felt like it was finally lifting, replaced by the nervous flutter of a first day.
She stepped out into the biting morning air, the streetlamps still humming with a low, orange glow. She moved quietly, hoping to avoid any driveway confrontations, and made it to the bus stop without a shadow following her.
The Tim Hortons was a hive of activity even at 6:00 AM. The smell of fresh sourdough and scorched coffee beans filled the air as Layla took her place behind the register. Her trainer, a tired-looking woman named Maria, showed her the buttons for the tenth time.
"Just stay calm," Maria muttered. "The Sunday morning crowd is usually half-asleep anyway."
But Layla's calm vanished the moment the bell chimed for the third customer of the day. A tall figure in a dark hoodie stepped up to the counter, his eyes tired but sharp.
Jade.
Layla felt her heart perform a frantic leap, but she gripped the edge of the counter and forced her face into a professional mask. "Welcome to Tim Hortons. What can I get for you?"
Jade looked at her, his gaze lingering on her name tag and then her eyes. There was no smirk. No sarcastic comment. "Large black coffee and a breakfast wrap," he said, his voice low and steady.
"That will be six-forty-five," she said, her voice only trembling slightly.
"New look suits you, neighbor," he added quietly as he tapped his card.
"Thank you," she replied, keeping it short. "Your order will be ready at the end of the counter."
She remained perfectly professional, calling out order numbers and steaming milk, but she could feel his eyes on her. Instead of leaving, Jade took a seat in a corner booth, his laptop open, slowly eating his meal. He stayed there for hours, a silent, brooding presence in the middle of her frantic first shift.
By 11:00 AM, Layla's feet were aching, and her brain was fried from memorizing donut codes. As she stepped into the small break room for her thirty-minute lunch, she found Jade waiting by the door.
"You're still here?" she asked, leaning against the wall, her energy spent.
"I'm a slow eater," he deadpanned, but then his expression softened. "Why are you avoiding me, Layla?"
The question was blunt, cutting through the noise of the coffee machines. Layla looked down at her shoes. "I don't know. Everything is just... a lot right now. With the trip, and school, and..."
"And what I said in the parking lot," Jade finished for her. He stepped closer, but he didn't crowd her. "Look, I'm putting zero pressure on you. I can see how much you like Liam. I'm not trying to change that. I just wanted you to know how I felt because I'm tired of the games. I won't act on it again. There's no need to run away every time you see my car in the driveway."
Layla felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She realized how childish she'd been acting, hiding behind curtains and taking the bus to avoid a conversation. "There's nothing going on with Liam right now," she admitted, her voice small. "He hasn't even texted me since the date. I feel dumb for avoiding you, Jade. I'm sorry."
Jade didn't gloat. He just nodded, a small, relieved exhale escaping his lips. "Apology accepted. Finish your shift. I'll give you a ride home."
The ride back to their street was different than the one before. The silence wasn't heavy or pressurized; it was comfortable. They didn't talk about Liam or Sarah's secrets. They talked about the rude customer who had complained about his bagel and the way the Montreal skyline looked in the afternoon sun.
When Jade pulled into his driveway and killed the engine, Layla turned to him. "Thanks for the ride. And for... being patient today."
"Anytime," he said.
As they both stepped out of the car, the air between them shifted again. Layla went to give him a quick, friendly "thanks" hug, but as she stepped into his space, the gravity changed. She found her hands instinctively wrapping around the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of his head. Jade didn't hesitate. His hands found her waist, pulling her flush against him, his head coming down to rest heavily on her shoulder.
It wasn't a "neighborly" hug. It was close. Intimate. The kind of hug where you can feel the other person's heartbeat through their clothes.
One second passed. Then five. Then ten. Layla knew she should pull away, but the warmth of him was a sanctuary she didn't want to leave. Jade squeezed her tighter, his breath warm against her neck, and for a moment, the rest of the world, the job, the money, the ghost of Liam, ceased to exist.
They finally pulled away at the exact same time, both realizing the embrace had lasted far longer than was "casual."
Layla felt the heat rushing to her cheeks, her breath coming in short hitches. She looked up at him, expecting him to look away, but Jade was smiling, a real, genuine smile that reached his smoky eyes. Layla found herself smiling back, a giddy, nervous energy bubbling up in her chest.
"Goodnight, Layla," he said softly.
"Goodnight, Jade."
She walked into her house, her hand touching the spot on her shoulder where his head had rested. She had a job, she had a path to Thailand, but as she looked at her silent phone, she realized the "chemistry" she had been trying to ignore was now the only thing she could feel.