rise by Laurel Krown

The sky was still smudged with dawn when Laya merged onto Highway 26, the road ahead washed in mist and pine. She cracked her window just enough for the cold air to bite her cheeks, her playlist humming low under the steady roll of tires.

She wanted to be there before the Open sign even flickered to life. Beth would probably tease her for it, but Laya didn’t care- she missed her and couldn’t wait to tell her about Wednesday night.

That night had stretched longer than she’d planned.
What started as just a ride turned into hours of talking under the soft hum of Harlan’s truck engine.

They’d stayed parked near the library until nearly 1 a.m., laughing and unpacking pieces of themselves like they’d known each other for years. He’d told her things about his family that made her heart ache in quiet understanding. And when he dropped her off, he’d said, softly,

“That’s the first time in a long time I’ve actually felt like myself.”

Laya had told him thank you- for being the first person in a long time who made her feel safe to talk about home. Even Cassie didn’t know the half of it.

When he warned her he might be busy with soccer and family stuff, she’d smiled and said, “It’s okay, I won’t miss you too much.”

He’d laughed like she’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard- half disbelief, half something else.

Now, a few days later, that laugh still lingered in her chest as she pulled off the highway toward Safeway.

She pushed her cart straight for the stationery aisle. New sticky notes, new notebook- her current one was practically exploding with pages of notes and doodles. Then came the real mission: snacks.

She rounded the corner into the candy aisle, humming to herself, when she heard them.

“Mixed chocolates are better, dude. Variety!”
“Variety of disappointment,” another voice shot back.
“Oh yeah? Say that to a Reese’s cup, coward!”

Laya blinked, recognizing the voices immediately- and sure enough, there they were. Harlan, Jack, and Damian, standing in the middle of the aisle like three overgrown kids caught in the world’s most dramatic candy debate.

She bit her lip to keep from laughing as Harlan held up a bag of Hershey’s Nuggets like it was a trophy.

“This,” he declared, “is elite. Texture. Weight. The gold wrappers. Sophistication.”

Jack snorted. “It’s grandpa chocolate.”

“It’s timeless,” Harlan shot back.

Damian raised his hands. “I’m just saying, mixed chocolate bags got Snickers, Twix, and Milky Way. That’s like the Avengers of candy.”

“Yeah, and Hershey’s Nuggets are what? The cast of Golden Girls?” Jack quipped.

That was it. Laya couldn’t hold her laughter anymore.

They all froze and turned- three deer in headlights- as she wheeled her cart down the aisle.

Damian grinned first. “Laya! No way. What’re you doing out here?”

“Apparently interrupting a very passionate debate,” she said, smiling.

Jack pointed at Harlan. “Tell her he’s wrong.”

Harlan leaned on his cart with mock confidence. “Don’t drag her into this. She looks like a Nuggets person.”

“I’m more of a Kit Kat girl,” she said casually, tossing a pack into her basket.

Jack gasped. “You’re one of us!”

Damian groaned. “Unbelievable. Betrayed by another soul.”

Harlan’s smirk tugged higher. “Nah, I can respect a Kit Kat girl. Balance, precision, good structure. Breakable, but strong.”

Laya raised a brow. “Did you just psychoanalyze a candy bar?”

Jack barked a laugh. “He totally did! Bro, she’s not a Snickers commercial.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Harlan muttered under his breath.

Laya ignored the way her stomach flipped and grinned. “So what are you three doing all the way out here? Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know… eating actual food?”

“We’re stocking up,” Damian said, gesturing to his basket full of energy drinks, jerky, and instant noodles. “We’ve got a game against Ridgeview next weekend. Jack’s parents have a beach house near Cannon, so we’re heading there to strategize.”

“And by strategize,” Jack cut in, “he means eat, nap, and complain about cardio.”

“Not wrong,” Damian said.

Harlan finally looked over at her basket. “And you? Candy and stationery? You writing poetry at a sleepover?”

Laya smirked. “Studying. Sleepy Monk Café. Gonna see Beth.”

“Oh!” Jack said, snapping his fingers. “We still owe her a thank-you! Remember when she gave us those snack bags after Damian’s battery died?”

“Wait,” Harlan said, looking between them. “You guys never told me that happened.”

Jack and Damian froze mid-motion.

“How’d you know about that?” they said together.

Laya tilted her head, biting back a grin. “I might’ve told him. The other night.”

Damian blinked. “The other night?”

Jack looked at Harlan, waiting for an answer.

Harlan shrugged, smiling faintly. “We got burgers. Talked a bit.”

Jack elbowed Damian. “Told you! He will hang out when he wants to.”

Harlan rolled his eyes. “You act like I’m a cryptid.”

“Bro, you are,” Damian said. “You disappear after practice and resurface like a mythological creature.”

Laya laughed. “At least now I know where to find you. Candy aisle, arguing over grandpa chocolate.”

Jack pointed dramatically. “Thank you! Someone said it!”

Harlan put a hand over his chest. “The betrayal in this Safeway is unreal.”

“You’ll survive,” Laya teased. “Maybe.”

Jack grinned at her. “You should come hang out at the beach house later. We’ll probably hit Sleepy Monk before heading over.”

Damian nodded eagerly. “Yeah, and I can use their bathroom instead of this one. The Safeway stall’s got commitment issues.”

Laya laughed so hard she had to grip her cart. “That’s one way to put it.”

Harlan was smiling at her again- that soft, private kind of smile that made the world feel quieter for a second.

She straightened, trying to hide the warmth creeping up her neck. “Well, I’ll tell Beth you guys said hi- oh wait, you can just come say hi yourselves.”

“Deal,” Jack said.

They waved her off as she checked out, still bickering.

“I’m telling you, man, caramel is the superior element!”
“It’s texture, not element!”
“Shut up, Hershey’s Nugget Boy!”

She left the aisle still laughing, her heart light and full.

The drive from Safeway to Cannon Beach was only twenty minutes, but the closer she got, the more her smile faded.

When she pulled up to Sleepy Monk Café, something was wrong. The sign wasn’t glowing. The windows were dark.

Laya frowned, parking and grabbing her backpack and Safeway bag. She checked the time. Right on schedule. Beth was always open by now.

She knocked once. No answer.
Walked around back. Beth’s car was there.

“Beth?” she called, knocking again. Still nothing.

A chill crept down her spine as she hurried back to the front, cupping her hands to the window.

That’s when she saw them.

A pair of feet- still, motionless- behind the counter.

“Beth!” she screamed, pounding the glass. “Beth!”

She yanked on the door- locked. Her hands shook as she grabbed her phone, dialing 911.

“Hi- yes- Sleepy Monk Café, Cannon Beach- my friend’s inside- she’s not movin- please hurry.”

Her heart pounded loud enough to drown out the surf.

Laya’s hands trembled so hard she nearly dropped her phone. The dispatcher’s voice felt a mile away.

“Stay with me, ma’am. Are you safe?”

“Yes- yes, I’m outside the café. She’s inside, on the floor. The door’s locked.”

“Help is on the way. Do not try to enter, understood?”

Laya pressed a shaking hand to the glass, tears burning her eyes. “Please, Beth…”

She kept her phone open on speaker, pacing between the sidewalk and the door, her heart hammering. The sound of sirens broke through the coastal hush- sharp and rising, echoing off the quiet street.

Within minutes, the first red and white lights flashed across the café windows. Two paramedics rushed up with gear, followed by a police officer shouting for space.

“Step back, miss,” the officer said gently, moving her aside as one of the firefighters wedged a crowbar between the lock and doorframe. The wood groaned before the door burst open with a crack.

Laya clamped her hands over her mouth, frozen as the team flooded in.

“Adult female, mid-sixties, unconscious,” one of them called out.

“Pulse?”

“Faint- get the O2 ready.”

Laya stood rooted to the spot, tears threatening to spill as she watched through the open door. One of the medics started chest compressions while another checked vitals. Her throat tightened.

“Is she okay?” she whispered to no one.

The officer turned to her. “You said you found her like this?”

“She- she was supposed to open the café,” Laya stammered. “She never sleeps in. I saw her car in the back, but she didn’t answer when I knocked- so I looked through the window and-”

He nodded, jotting notes. “You did the right thing calling it in.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to steady her breathing, when she heard tires screeching against the pavement.

A familiar black truck pulled up across the street.

Harlan jumped out before the engine even shut off, followed closely by Jack and Damian, grocery bags forgotten in the backseat.

“Laya!” Harlan shouted, crossing the street. “We saw the lights- what happened?”

Her voice broke. “It’s Beth. I- I found her on the floor. They’re trying to help her.”

Jack’s expression fell, all traces of his usual grin gone. Damian’s jaw dropped. “Wait- Beth from the café?”

Laya nodded, tears spilling now. “She wasn’t breathing right when they got in…”

Harlan hesitated for only a second before gently placing his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, hey- breathe. You called 911. You did everything right.”

Laya shook her head. “I should’ve come earlier- maybe- ”

“Stop,” he said firmly but softly. “Don’t do that to yourself.”

She looked up at him, eyes glassy. “She’s like family, Harlan.”

“I know.” His voice cracked just slightly. “We’ll wait with you, okay?”

Behind them, Jack was talking quietly with one of the officers, asking if they knew her condition. Damian stood by the curb, hands clasped, whispering something that almost sounded like a prayer.

The medics lifted Beth onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask now over her face. Laya’s breath hitched as they rolled her toward the ambulance.

“Pulse is stable,” one of the paramedics called to the others. “She’s breathing again.”

Laya gasped, a sob slipping out as relief washed through her like a wave.

The officer turned. “She’s alive,” he said simply.

Laya pressed her hands to her face, shoulders trembling. Harlan caught her before she stumbled, pulling her gently into his chest.

“She’s okay,” he murmured. “She’s gonna be okay.”

Laya nodded against him, her voice muffled. “I was so scared.”

“I know. But you didn’t freeze- you acted. That’s brave as hell, Laya.”

She let out a shaky laugh between tears. “Don’t call me brave. I was crying and yelling like a maniac.”

“Still counts,” he said.

Behind them, Damian exhaled loudly. “Man, I thought we were stopping by for coffee, not trauma.”

Jack gave him a look. “Too soon, dude.”

“What? I’m serious! I’m not emotionally equipped for this before noon.”

Even Laya managed a small, broken laugh. “Thanks for the comic relief, Damian.”

“Hey, it’s a gift,” he said, shrugging. “Also, can someone confirm she’s not actually dead? Because my heart rate says otherwise.”

“She’s stable,” Harlan confirmed, still holding Laya close. “They’re taking her to Seaside General.”

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets. “We can follow them, right? Just to make sure she’s okay?”

Laya wiped her cheeks. “Yeah. She’d want someone there.”

Harlan looked down at her. “We’ll go with you. You shouldn’t drive alone after that.”

Her lips parted to protest, but she saw the quiet concern in his eyes- the kind that didn’t ask for permission, just showed up.

“Okay,” she said softly.

They walked to the truck together as the ambulance doors closed with a final click. Sirens wailed again, fading down the coastal road.

Jack climbed into the backseat, shaking his head. “Man, I thought today was gonna be chill. Maybe grab coffee, flirt with the barista-”

“Flirt with Beth?” Damian asked. “She’s like sixty!”

Jack groaned. “Not Beth! The cute one with the nose ring who works Saturdays!”

Harlan muttered under his breath, “You’re both hopeless.”

Damian grinned. “Yeah, but at least we’re alive. Unlike my hopes of pooping at the beach house first.”

Even Laya cracked a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous keeps the heart light,” Damian said, tapping his temple. “Science.”

As Harlan started the engine, she looked out the window, watching the café disappear behind them.

The morning that had started with excitement now felt fragile and quiet- but not lonely. Not anymore.

Because somewhere between fear and laughter, she realized- she wasn’t facing it alone.