He let the yes be simple and pressed Send.
Sure. Late morning works-11?
The message left, small and confident. Dylan watched Alex's thumb like a sports commentator waiting for a review to finish. Jack sorted ketchup packets into a fan no one had asked for.
Dylan chewed a fry. "We love decisiveness in this house."
Jack pointed at the sink. "We also love washing ketchup off our hands before touching keyboards."
Alex's phone pulsed once, discreet.
[Text - IVY MONROE]: 11 it is. Atrium Coffee, downtown. Glass wall, plant jungle.
He typed Got it. See you then. He didn't add an emoji or a joke. He watched for the tiny delivered mark and let the conversation sit where it belonged - open, not needy.
The HUD lingered in his periphery just long enough to be useful.
[Calendar: Event created - Coffee w/ Ivy, 11:00–12:00, Atrium Coffee][Reminder set: 10:35 depart dorm (walk 18 min)][Public visibility: LOW - maintained]
Dylan tipped the fry box toward Alex's phone. "So she's arts and organized. Dangerous combo."
"Admire from a respectful distance," Jack said, moving the fries to a paper towel and making order where chaos had been perfectly happy.
"Respectful distance noted," Dylan said, which for him meant anything under three feet was a moral victory. "Also, hey, mentor, when is our next magic bank seminar?"
"It's not magic," Alex said, pocketing the phone. "It's a promo with variance and a window I know nothing about."
"Your humility is insulting," Dylan said. "Scale is calling. She says, 'bring charts.'"
"Scale is how you get noticed," Jack said, calm and factual. "We like boring in this room."
"I like funded," Dylan said.
"You like fries," Jack said. He passed the box.
Alex leaned against the desk and let the conversation run a lap without him. The cashback high had cooled to a clean edge. If he wanted to move faster than rumors, he needed quiet income that didn't look metaphysical from the outside.
"Two seconds," he said, opening his laptop. He found the campus marketplace group, the one that lived in a chat client everyone pretended to hate and used anyway, and typed like a man listing gravity for parts.
FS: Intro to Microeconomics (Krugman 5e) - good condition, light pencil. $80 OBO. Pickup tonight or tomorrow AM outside library. Venmo/transfer/cash.
He attached two photos he'd taken last semester for exactly this reason - pages clean, spine honest. He hit Post.
Dylan craned. "Are we pivoting to academia for profit? Bold."
"It's called freeing shelf space," Alex said.
The chat blinked. A user named MAYA_H replied faster than dignity should allow: Need for 8 a.m. class. Can I hold with $40 now, balance tomorrow? A second later: I can do transfer tonight. The typing bubbles kept appearing like a polite stutter.
Alex DM'd: $40 hold works. Meet 10:30 at library doors? A beat. Yes thank you.
His phone buzzed with the minimized preview he'd chosen.
[Bank Text: Incoming transfer $40.00 - MAYA H.][TIER-1 MONEY PERK roll…][Result: ×2][Critical received: $40.00 bonus][Total credited: $80.00]
The numbers hit with a softer thrill than the diner fireworks. He kept his face set to mild, the way you do when a delivery arrives precisely when the app promised. Dylan's eyes flicked to the phone anyway, trained now to notice micro-glows.
"Promo blessed again?" Dylan asked.
"Deposit on a book," Alex said. "Buyer's responsible."
"Academic capitalism." Dylan saluted the concept with a fry. "Hot."
Jack trimmed the tape edge of a ramen box with nail scissors because it had offended him by fraying. "How many of those can you do before people smell something?"
"As many as any broke student can do," Alex said. "Textbooks, gear, odd jobs. If we treat it like air, no one will try to weigh it."
Dylan folded his hands like a lawyer building a case out of snacks. "Hypothetically, if we did a hundred deposits, we could -"
"We couldn't," Jack said. "Because people don't buy a hundred textbooks from one guy in twenty-four hours without asking if he stole the library."
"Variance plus caps," Alex said, keeping numbers out of his tone but meaning every syllable. "If we want a long game, we look like one."
Dylan threw himself back in his chair with a suffering noise. "Fine. We crawl. But we crawl with style."
"Style is invisible," Jack said. "That's how it works."
The chat pinged again - MAYA_H apologizing for the hour, adding a smiley that bristled with need: Thank you - prof is strict about editions. Alex replied No problem. Bring student ID tomorrow so I don't hand it to the wrong person. Habit made him careful. The HUD nudged a tiny ribbon of text into his periphery:
[Note: MONEY cap - high remaining; CASHBACK cap - high remaining]
He didn't need it; he liked it there anyway.
Dylan's curiosity returned to its favorite seat. "So, the refund lightning… I'm choosing to believe the universe has finally decided you're pretty."
"Late but welcome," Alex said.
"As long as it also decides I'm charming-by-association," Dylan said.
"It already decided you're loud," Jack said, not unkind.
Alex's phone buzzed again. Ivy this time, the haptic distinct in his hand because he'd made it so.
[Text - IVY MONROE]: Tomorrow 11. I'll grab the window table. If your bank starts singing again, I want to see the choreography.]
The line drew a smile out of him he didn't show. He typed I prefer banks that whisper. See you. He considered adding If the terminal cooperates, then deleted it. No need to rehearse a joke before rehearsal.
The next text landed before his screen dimmed.
[Text - IVY MONROE]: Also... how did your bank text like that? Ours doesn't send confetti.]
He read it twice. It wasn't an accusation; it was curiosity armed with manners. It still asked for a story.
Dylan saw the change in Alex's face without seeing the words. "She funny?"
"She's curious," Alex said.
"About you?" Dylan brightened like a man who had found theme music. "We support curiosity."
"Careful," Jack said. "Curiosity thinks it's neutral. It isn't."
Alex let the phone rest on his knee and looked at his two anchors. Dylan would say say anything for the bit; Jack would say nothing until the weight required words. Neither of them got to carry this one unless he handed it over.
He sent a test to Ivy without sending, the way you hold phrases up to light: Bank promo. Bland. Restaurant tie-in. Better. Card issuer trial. Specific enough to satisfy, not enough to invite research. He could staple on a joke - It flirts with me on Tuesdays - but jokes sometimes opened doors you didn't want walked through.
The HUD had the timing of a concierge who knows when to pretend he wasn't listening.
[Advisory: Maintain LOW visibility to preserve narrative simplicity.]
He breathed once, counted the beat that made decisions feel like rhythm instead of panic, and set his thumbs to the glass.