rise by Laurel Krown

By early afternoon, Laya’s mind had softened into that peaceful, steady rhythm that always settled in after a few hours at the Sleepy Monk. Her psychology notes were spread in front of her, her coffee long gone, and the sunlight through the window warmed the sleeve of her sweater. Time always passed differently in Beth’s café, slower and safer, as if the world outside paused until she was ready to step back into it.

Her stomach, however, did not pause. It growled loud enough for Beth to hear from the counter.

Beth looked up instantly. “Honey, that face means you’re hungry,” she said. “Real hungry. And my pastries aren’t going to do it today.”

Laya pressed her hand to her stomach and laughed. “You know me too well.”

“I know your stomach too well,” Beth said, pointing a finger at her. “Go get your burger. I can practically hear you thinking about it.”

Laya stood with a smile. “I’ll be back in like twenty minutes.”

Beth lifted her brows. “Bag.”

Laya blinked once, then groaned playfully. “I swear I almost remembered this time.”

“You always almost remember,” Beth said, shaking her head as she came around the counter. “Give it here. I’ll keep it in my office.”

Laya handed over her laptop and bag. Beth grabbed them like she had done this every Saturday for years, which she had. Laya leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Love you.”

Beth patted her cheek. “Love you more. Now go on before you eat all my lemon loaf again.”

Laughing, Laya slipped in her earphones and stepped into the soft afternoon air, which carried the scent of ocean salt and grilled food drifting from the diner down the block.

---

The diner was warm and bright inside, smelling of grilled onions, fresh buns, and coffee. Laya had been there a hundred times, enough that Bradley saw her before she even reached the counter.

She didn’t notice the three boys sitting in a booth near the back, but one of them noticed her the moment the door swung open.

Harlan’s head turned automatically, almost like a reflex. He saw her walk in, shoulders relaxed, hair falling in soft waves over her sweater, her expression calm but focused in the way he’d seen only once before. She didn’t glance around or look for a table. She didn’t even register the crowd. She just walked straight for the counter, earphones still in, moving with a kind of quiet purpose that caught his attention immediately.

He wondered what she was listening to. Something soft? Something loud? Something that made her walk like she was in her own world?

“Yo,” Damian said, leaning over the table. “Earth to captain.”

But Harlan didn’t hear him. His eyes stayed locked on her.

As soon as she reached the counter, the cashier moved aside on instinct, because Bradley had already come out of the kitchen, smiling.

“Sweetheart,” Bradley said warmly. “You’re early today.”

Laya lit up. “Bradley,” she said, leaning over the counter to hug him. “I missed you.”

“You missed me?” Bradley laughed. “It’s been a week.”

“A long week,” she said with emphasis. “The new season of ‘Nobody Wants This’ came out and I’ve been dying to talk to someone about it.”

Bradley widened his eyes dramatically. “Don’t even tell me. I stayed up and watched the whole thing last night. The way episode three ended? I almost threw my remote.”

Laya gasped loudly enough for Harlan to hear. “I know, right? And episode seven? When she walks out on him? I swear I thought she was finally going to choose herself.”

“She should have chosen herself seasons ago,” Bradley said, shaking his head. “I’ve been rooting for her to leave since episode one.”

“That’s because you hate the love interest,” Laya teased.

“He’s useless,” Bradley said. “He is a lamp with emotions.”

Laya laughed, warm and bright. “That’s why I like Adam Brody’s character better. At least he has a relationship with God. It makes him feel grounded, you know?”

Bradley pointed at her knowingly. “Of course he’s your favorite. You always go for the ones with something deeper going on.”

Laya grinned. “Or the ones who actually talk to God when no one’s looking.”

Harlan heard that part.

It hit him harder than he expected, not because he understood it, but because he didn’t. He didn’t have a relationship with God. He didn’t believe in anything he couldn’t see or touch. Faith had never been part of his life, not in any real sense. But the way she said it, so matter-of-fact and comfortable, like talking to God was as natural as breathing, made something shift quietly inside him.

Not discomfort.
Not judgment.
Just… curiosity.

Jack followed his gaze and looked toward the counter. “Who is that?”

“I don’t know,” Harlan said quietly.

“But you want to,” Damian said with a knowing smirk.

Jack raised a brow. “So, go ask her name.”

Harlan didn’t look away from Laya. “It’s not that simple.”

Damian snorted. “Bro, you have girls falling over themselves to sit next to you in class. Asking one girl her name is not complicated.”

Harlan finally forced himself to turn back to the table. “Forget it. We have Ridgeview next week. That’s the focus.”

Jack stared at him for a moment. He had known Harlan since they were kids, had seen him confident, steady, unshakable. But this hesitation, this flicker of something unsure, was new. Different. And Jack didn’t push when something mattered to Harlan.

Damian, unfortunately, didn’t have that instinct.

“Hey!” he suddenly shouted across the diner.

Both Jack and Harlan jerked toward him.

“What are you doing?” Harlan hissed.

Jack looked horrified. “Damian. Damian, no.”

But it was too late.

Laya turned, startled, eyes scanning the room until they landed on their table. She blinked once, confused, then offered a small polite nod before turning back to Bradley.

Bradley leaned toward her. “Friends of yours?”

Laya shook her head immediately. “Absolutely not.”

Harlan heard it, and despite the embarrassment crawling up his spine, the corner of his mouth twitched like he might almost smile.

Almost.

Bradley straightened. “Your usual?”

“Double bacon cheeseburger,” Laya said. “Pickles, no lettuce, no tomato.”

“Coming right up,” he said, tapping the counter. “And I’ll bring you a raspberry iced tea, since I already know that’s what you want. Go sit, sweetheart. I’ll bring it all to you.”

Laya thanked him, pulled her earphones out of her pocket, and walked to a booth near the window, completely unaware of the conversation she had just shattered at the trio’s table.

Jack leaned forward. “She has no clue you exist.”

Harlan looked down at the table. “Yeah.”

Damian grinned. “Makes you want to know her more, doesn’t it?”

Harlan didn’t answer at first. Then quietly, he said, “I just want to know her name.”

Jack’s expression softened, something shifting behind his eyes. “Then one day, you will.”

Damian clapped him on the back. “As long as I don’t introduce you first.”

“Please don’t ever do that,” Harlan said immediately.

Jack nodded. “Seriously. Please don’t.”

They fell into silence for a moment, but Harlan’s attention kept drifting toward the booth where Laya sat, tapping her fingers lightly against the side of her plate, lost in whatever world existed behind her blue eyes.

He didn’t know her name.
He didn’t know her story.
He didn’t know why she had stuck with him like this.

But he noticed her.

And he didn’t usually notice anyone.