Elena's Saturday morning started with the sound of Naomi's laugh echoing down the hall.
The kind of laugh that always meant trouble.
By the time Elena padded into the kitchen, still rubbing sleep from her eyes and tugging her sweater tighter around her, Naomi was already leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand, wearing that look. The one that said, I know something, and I'm going to drag it out of you.
"You're up early," Elena muttered, grabbing a mug and filling it from the coffee pot.
Naomi grinned. "Festival prep day. Can't let you show up looking like you don't know this is basically a date."
Elena groaned, resting her forehead against the cabinet. "You're worse than my own thoughts."
"Good," Naomi shot back. "Because your thoughts need backup."
As if on cue, her roommate, Leah, shuffled into the kitchen, still in a hoodie and leggings. She plopped onto one of the stools and squinted at Elena. "So, are we just going to gloss over the fact that you've been smiling at your phone all week?"
"I haven't—" Elena started, then caught Naomi's raised eyebrow. "Okay, maybe I have."
Leah smirked. "And who's responsible for that smile?"
"Elena's mysterious BMW guy," Naomi said, smirking like the cat who caught the canary. "Which, by the way, is way too cinematic for real life. Next thing you know, he's going to roll up with flowers and a leather jacket."
Elena rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the corner of her lips from curling upward. "First of all, his name is Alexander. And second, it's just… a festival. With food trucks and music. Not a date."
Naomi snorted. "Oh, please. If it's not a date, why did you spend thirty minutes yesterday trying to decide between your black boots and your white sneakers just to grab coffee with him?"
Leah tilted her head. "Wait, is this the guy who kissed you at the movie—"
"I kissed him," Elena corrected, heat creeping into her cheeks. "And it was on the cheek. Not like… that."
"Cheek or not," Naomi said, "you don't just casually kiss someone you don't feel anything for. Especially someone who looks like he could walk out of a moody car commercial."
Elena groaned again, covering her face. "Why do I tell you things?"
"Because we're your best friends," Leah said, sipping her coffee. "And also because we're right."
Later that afternoon, the three of them sprawled on Elena's bed, her closet emptied onto the floor. Naomi tossed a cream-colored sweater onto the growing pile of "maybes," while Leah held up a denim jacket like it was a peace offering.
"What's the vibe?" Naomi asked. "Are we going for cute-girl-next-door, effortlessly cool, or the 'look at me, I know I'm hot' aesthetic?"
"I don't—" Elena started, then sighed. "I just want to look like me."
"Okay, but you can still look like you and make his jaw drop," Naomi said, grinning. "What about that green knit top? It matches your eyes."
Leah nodded approvingly. "Ooh, yes. Pair it with those black jeans. Maybe your hair half-up?"
Elena sat cross-legged on the bed, holding the green top in her lap. "This is ridiculous. It's not even—"
"Not a date?" Naomi cut in.
Elena glared. "Stop calling it that."
"Well, what would you call it?" Naomi challenged. "Two people going somewhere fun together, eating food, listening to music, spending hours side by side… sounds like a date to me."
Elena opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. Because maybe… just maybe… it was.
As Naomi and Leah bickered over shoe options, Elena let her mind drift.
She remembered the way Alexander had looked at her at the café earlier this week—quiet, thoughtful, but like he was listening with his whole self. He didn't fill silence with noise. He made her feel like silence was enough.
And last night, when she'd told him that she let people in too easily, he hadn't laughed or dismissed it. He'd just… said what she didn't know she needed to hear.
Then they were idiots.
It wasn't just the words. It was the way his voice carried something solid, unshaken, like he meant every syllable. It left her chest warm hours later, long after they'd gone their separate ways.
"Hello?" Naomi waved a hand in front of her face. "Earth to Elena."
"What?" Elena blinked.
"You were smiling at nothing again," Naomi said, smirking. "Thinking about someone, hmm?"
Leah leaned in. "Was it Alexander?"
"Maybe," Elena admitted, a shy grin tugging at her lips.
Both of her friends groaned, dramatically falling back onto the bed.
Naomi was the first to sit up again. "Just… promise me one thing, okay? Stop overthinking and let yourself enjoy this. If it feels good to be around him, then let it. You deserve that."
Elena exhaled softly, hugging the green top against her chest. "Yeah. I think I will."
That night, as she set her outfit aside for the festival, she glanced at her phone. His name sat near the top of her messages.
For a moment, she almost texted him something silly—about trying not to embarrass herself at food trucks or how Naomi insisted it was a date. But she didn't.
Instead, she smiled, imagining him driving his perfectly detailed BMW, probably listening to some calm playlist, just as lost in thought as she was.
And for the first time, she wasn't scared to see what would happen next.