Chapter Text
She had been working at the Aquarium of the Bay for just over 3 months when she was fired. She had loved her job, feeding the fishes, talking about the wonders of the sea, and pretending she was in The Little Mermaid every single day.
Unlike humans, animals never got tired of her singing “Under the Sea,” on constant repeat.
Her work was exciting and beautiful and all she could ever want. Plus, when she talked to the sea lions for hours on end, they never complained.
She has always liked to stare at the ocean, but she liked to stare at the tanks in the aquarium even more, which she hadn’t thought possible.
That’s why it felt like her heart hit the floor when she was fired. It was a pretty normal week. She had only slipped once while trying to navigate all the feeding areas above the tanks. Even though she is a runner, clumsiness was a constant threat.
It happened on a Friday, which was her favorite day because it meant she got to lead the Yoga with the Sharks program. Early morning sun salutations in the pathway under the largest tank in the aquarium - what could be better?
Her boss had assigned her the coveted position because she often talked about that type of stuff: new exercises, different types of milk (oat, almond, rice, goat, you name it), immune-boosting ginger shots, all natural CBD oil and hemp-infused hair gel, which she had given to Max.
Max, she hated even thinking about that name. She wanted to scorch it from her memory.
Anyways, yoga was kind of on-brand for Autumn. It was all going well that fateful Friday morning until she saw this beautiful fish that she had never seen before. It was a mid-sized creature with a splattering of colors surrounding its body and long fins that floated around it like sheets in the wind. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
And this was coming from a girl who had once stared at the ocean for seven hours straight.
The thing about Autumn is that she often hyper-fixates. She once played skee ball for four hours by herself after a birthday party just so she could see her name appear on the scoreboard. When she was a child, she hyper-fixated on Annie and performed the entire musical front to back on a road trip from her hometown of Minneapolis to her parent’s cabin two hours away. It was every single word, even the other characters. It got tricky when she was playing every orphan simultaneously.
During that yoga class, she couldn’t help but hyper-fixate. She knew that new fish were going to be moved into the tanks sometime that week, but seeing one of them in person, she couldn’t believe that something that beautiful lived on Earth.
The problem was, she had told the class to get into child's pose. There was soft, classical music playing in the background. It was dark enough that it felt relaxing, like a meditation room or an Abercrombie.
She had later heard from her boss that some people fell asleep during the class and some people were internally fuming but didn’t say anything because this was their first time doing the program and they hadn’t learned the ropes yet.
In any case, she hardly noticed that there were thirty minutes between when she told the class to get into that pose and when she finally realized that she had been looking at that fish for a tad too long.
By then, it was pretty obvious that she did something wrong. It was almost a given that she was reprimanded and ultimately let go by her boss.
“Autumn,” he had said, “You’re a great employee and I know you love your job. You just have to do it.”
Three months later and she was back at the Golden Gate Grind, job application in hand.
She had liked working there, and for now, that was enough. Still, she was sad that if she decided to randomly burst into song, the customers would notice and that probably wouldn’t be ideal.
Sunday morning, she entered the familiar coffee shop, apron in hand, a smile plastered on her face. It was her first shift back and she was going to be sure not to mess it up.
Autumn had thought she would be safe. Max and Zoey had stopped coming to the Golden Gate Grind after she had snapped at him, which she was still proud of herself for doing. For Heaven’s sake, she wanted him to meet her parents and he broke up with her. Their intentions couldn’t have been further apart.
It was pretty brutal and then he had the nerve to act like everything was fine, which it was not. Ugh she hated him and his stupid face.
That morning, the first day back at work, it was like another punch in the gut. She had gone to the backroom to get some more pastries from the oven and when she turned to head back, she caught the two of them in the front of the line.
He was gazing at the menu while she ordered. They were laughing at something. Autumn scoffed, wishing something bad would happen to him. Not anything serious, but if she willed it into existence, she wanted the coffee to burn his tongue or the seat he chose to have a coffee spill on it that he didn’t realize was there until he sat down.
She couldn’t believe they had the audacity to come back. Someone must’ve told them she no longer worked there.
Autumn was about to reveal herself from behind the door frame, speaking her mind once again and telling them to never return, but her coworker had put a hand on her shoulder before she could do so.
“Autumn, don’t,” Maya cautioned, seeing that crazed look in her eyes, “They’re regulars and with that new matcha place down the street, we need to keep as many regulars as we can.”
“Can’t I just spit in his muffin,” she whined before heading back to the Employees Only section of the coffee shop, agreeing to hide until the two of them left.
She had thought it was going to be a one-time thing, but she forgot how many times the two of them got coffee. It was a little concerning.
And that’s how her routine came to be so that whenever her coworkers would see Max or Zoey approaching the entrance, they would alert her. She would roll her eyes but make her way to the backroom, away from sight. She would often peek her head out from behind the door frame, to continuously check if the coast was clear.
It usually wasn’t and she learned why soon enough. They were now fans of taking their time in the coffee shop. They used to just order and go.
“I think my boss has started to notice that when I leave to get coffee, it’s more of a coffee hour than a coffee break,” Max laughed, pulling apart the muffin. “You know, we don’t both have it good. I’m now nervous anytime I have to get up to use the bathroom, thinking that people will start to catch on that I’m taking a ton of breaks. With Joan gone, you’re free to take as many breaks as you want.”
Zoey grabbed a handful of blueberry crumbs. “It’s not all sunshine and rainbows.” She smiled, “but it is pretty nice not having someone always watching you, lovingly, but still always right there.”
“How is she doing now that she’s been practically running SPRQ Point ever since they found Danny Michael Davis’ harddrive in his sister’s basement?”
Zoey blew on her latte before taking a sip. “She’s good. She texted me a picture of herself doing a sales pitch in a yurt in Russia then at a tea house in Japan. I don’t really know what she does, but she’s doing it whatever the case. It’s weird not having a floor manager, but no one has taken on the role. She sometimes sends the floor videos of her yelling to get back to work, so it’s kinda like she hasn’t even left.”
“How’s Flicker?” Zoey looked up from her coffee, placing the stirrer on the napkin by her side. Her drink had turned to a nice golden brown color rather than straight black.
Max picked at the cardboard of the coffee sleeve. “It’s fine. It’s good. It’s okay.”
“Say it one more time and I’ll believe you,” Zoey assured.
Max took a deep breath, “It’s nice to manage people and everyone’s kind, but management holds the reins too tightly. If they don’t give us any leeway, we’re just mildly sleep-deprived, coding automatons. There’s no room for any creativity.”
Zoey listened to every word intently before responding, “Do you think you’re going to stay there?”
“Yeah,” Max responded.
When she gave him a quizzical look, he elaborated, “I can’t put myself up to applying for jobs now. You know how long it took me to get this gig. Maybe in a couple of months or so if it doesn’t get any better. Right now, it’s fine. Plus, we have some serious SPRQ Point butt to kick at the next field day.”
Any weight of the conversation lifted and Zoey stole the last bite of muffin, before grabbing her stuff.
“Can’t we just stay a little longer?” Max didn’t get up to gather his belongings. “When we leave this door, I’m not going to see you for what?” Max checked his watch, “six more hours.” He gasped at the thought of it.
“A couple more than that,” Zoey added, not helping the situation, “There’s this bug in the watch that has to be patched by tonight.”
Max whined dramatically. “But Zoeyyyy. Wait, how about I meet you after I’m done? I can hang around the office, sit on the swings, and steal La Croix from the fridge.”
“I’m sure sirens would go off if you step onto campus. Security can smell Flicker employees from miles away.”
At that, Max looked mildly offended. “You forget, Security Guard Jack and I are tight.” He twisted his pointer and middle finger together for emphasis.
“We don’t have a guard named Jack. You mean Jerry?”
Max sheepishly nodded.
“Stay,” he pleaded, admitting defeat.
“One more muffin, but you’re paying,” she responded, dropping her backpack on the seat next to her.
So they were now at different companies. Interesting. Autumn wouldn’t call it spying exactly. She would rather call it I-have-nothing-to-do-because-I’m-stuck-hiding-out-and-they-always-sit-in-the-back-so-it’s-even-harder-to-tune-them-out-when-they-are-sitting-not-20-feet-away.
Zoey and Max didn’t always come in at the same time anymore. Sometimes just Zoey would come in, settling down before putting on some headphones and staring out the window at passerbys.
There would be moments when Max would arrive alone, on a call with God knows who. He would say words like “bandwidth” and “CPU,” “Processor” and “Boolean.” As far as Autumn was concerned, he was speaking a different language.
Sometimes they would both come in and work in comfortable silence, both with what looked like true hacker code on their screens. It looked like those movies where the computer techies would type away for one minute and then would gain total control over the entire building's security system.
To be honest, Autumn’s not really sure what they did. Max had tried to explain it for a time, but it fell on deaf ears.
Her mind wasn’t equipped to handle all that coding jargon.
One time, Max had asked her what she would do if she could have any job she ever wanted. She had said she wasn’t sure. She liked the coffee shop.
Some people were okay with not being a big CEO, or in Zoey’s and Max’s case, employees of the biggest tech companies in the world. Autumn liked learning new latte art and rolling out cookies before they would go in the oven. She liked the scent of coffee that blanketed the business and the way the delivery guys knew her by name.
Looking back on it now, Autumn and Max were probably on two completely different trajectories. He wanted to rise up while she was fine staying stagnant.
And so, over the next couple of weeks, she would hide away behind the door frame. Max and Zoey decided that the table closest to the backroom was their table, which didn’t help the situation. Autumn always awkwardly ended up hiding out, hearing their conversations.
She often wished for a friendship like theirs, but she would never admit it. She remembered the first time they came to the coffee shop years ago.
If he didn’t look like a zombie and her hair wasn’t sticking up ten different ways, she probably wouldn’t have noticed them. It was the middle of the night. She was about to close up shop when they walked in, eyes-bloodshot from sleep deprivation.
“2 coffees,” Zoey ordered, leaning against the counter. Autumn was sure that Zoey would’ve fallen asleep in that spot if she stayed there one second too long.
“One shot . . .” Zoey looked at Max for confirmation. He held up two fingers. “Two shots of espresso each.”
Autumn went to ring them up, but stopped herself, “Are you sure? To be honest, it looks like you guys need some sleep.”
Max thrust his card at her, his eyes pleading.
Zoey articulated the necessity. “We have to finish a project at work that needs to be done before tomorrow’s workday starts and the update is released.”
“The only option is mutual self-destruction,” Max confided while taking back his card and stuffing it into his wallet.
Autumn nodded, getting their coffees ready and throwing in some complimentary baked goods. She was going to throw them out anyway since they weren’t purchased that day and by tomorrow they would be rock hard.
With a ‘thank you,’ they both had left, no doubt going straight back to work, wherever that was.
Now, years and years later, they were still doing the same things. They would often come in close to closing, looking like they could fall asleep at a moment’s notice.
The best of friends. It was almost nice. It would be a lie to say that she didn’t envy their friendship.
They were always doing sweet things for one another. Max would wordlessly get up to retrieve their coffees and Zoey would grab their usual table, wiping it down if it wasn’t clean. He would hold the door open while she would whip out extra metal straws just in case. He always ordered a pastry and would never complain when she would swipe a few (or more) bites.
They were cute. The bestest of buds.
She hated to admit it, but even Max was sweet.
That’s why, on one fateful summer day, Autumn almost flew out of her chair when she saw him lean down and give her a quick kiss before heading off. To hell with best buddies, they were dating. Max was the devil.
Just when she thought it was going to be okay and she was getting used to seeing him in HER coffee shop again, well, she didn’t own it but she likes to claim it as her turf, he went and did that.
It shouldn’t have been a real surprise. It almost felt bound to happen, some next level written-in-the-stars astrology shit. That trite friends-to-lovers trope that she liked to read about in stories. But now that it was happening in real life, she wanted to punch them both.
At first, she had wanted to march right up there and throw a coffee in his face, but then she took a few deep breaths and relaxed. If life was a cartoon, you would be able to see smoke fuming out of her ears.
How could she be that stupid? It was always going to be Zoey. She hated Zoey and her stupid collared shirts and big eyes. Wait, that was a lie. She thought the ginger looked really cute in them.
Autumn wished she could hate the girl, but she couldn’t. Zoey had always been sweet to her. Autumn could hate Zoey for being too nice then.
She never thought her anger towards the two would ever cease, but she was proved wrong.
It happened on a Thursday when she was manning the register.
“Can you take a picture of me,” a man about her age asked. He was clad in a backwards baseball cap and a hooded sweatshirt - business attire of Silicon Valley. For a second she thought she recognized him, but it was almost impossible to remember everyone she’s met over the last couple of years. From all the coffee shop customers to all the visitors at the aquarium, she had given up on remembering most people.
“No problem,” Autumn responded, taking his phone from him. He positioned himself in just the right fashion, tilting his head to the right while holding the coffee out like he was about to take a sip.
“Portrait mode, please,” he asked, still in his chosen pose, only his mouth moving. She snapped a few shots before handing the phone back.
“Awww sweet. That’s mad good. My followers are going to go nuts, like Taylor Swift and Kanye West’s feud level nuts. Props to you, . . .,” he looked at her name tag, “Autumn. I’m Tobin, nice to meet you. I can give you photo creds if you want, just say the word. We’re all in that followers game. You help me out, I help you out. Here, type in your username.”
He handed her back his phone and she obliged, typing in her handle. When she saw that he had 45 followers, she arched an eyebrow. Her Instagram account dedicated to the birds she sees near the ocean has more followers.
Tobin continued, “I don’t have a ton of followers, but this is only the start for me. By the end of the year, I’m going to one of those high-end influencers, not the ones selling miracle weight-loss gummies and strange teas. I’m talking the big leagues like being one of those Youtubers trying to convince people to subscribe to Audible even though we know no one is ever going to remember to read books when you have Netflix on your phone. Ooo, or a FabFitFun ambassador. I can rock a mean Kate Spade lunch box.”
“Oh My God,” Autumn exclaimed, taking a seat, “I love FabFitFun! Been a loyal fan since the beginning. It’s so much stuff for such a good price! And I’m so indecisive so I don’t have to worry about picking out stuff at the store. I used to buy three different shampoos because I couldn’t decide between volume, hydration, or sheen.”
Tobin’s energy rose to match Autumn’s. “I know! It’s literally impossible. Lit-ter-ally. I once used five different face washes because all of them got the highest reviews in Men’s Health and Esquire. My friend was like ‘that’s too much, dude,’ but I was like, ‘you sometimes have to risk it to get the biscuit.’”
Tobin leaned closer to her from across the table.
“I get FabFitFun just for the skincare stuff and I give the rest to my sister. I get some amazing toners while she thinks I’m the best brother in the world. My million dollar idea . . .” He leaned even closer so he could whisper in her ear, “I’m going to make one for men. I’m thinking shades, colognes, and snapbacks. Plus, I think everyone needs a good murse. It’s a . . .”
“Man purse,” Autumn completed his sentence.
“I like you,” Tobin replied, and Autumn couldn’t help but smile.
He did give her photo creds and when she commented on his post, he slid into her DMs the next day.
It started off innocent with pictures of the newest shoes he wanted after seeing them worn by Lebron James. She messaged him pictures of the trail she would take on her morning runs. He would come in for coffee more frequently and she would always put a little heart on his coffee sleeve.
One day, when they were shopping at an outdoor mall - him for some new snapbacks to go well with spring florals, her for the newest Taylor Swift vinyl - he posted a picture of the two of them, calling her the best gal in the world, even sicker than Beyonce, his Lord and savior. Her heart somersaulted out of her chest.
They officially started dating the week after and they’ve been inseparable ever since. She would go on morning jogs and he would ride next to her on a scooter, blasting “Eye of the Tiger.” They went to Disneyland on a fluke trip and they wore matching Mickey ears and took enough pictures to fill up her phone storage. He even tried all her crazy coffee concoctions, even doing Insta lives to broadcast a taste test for his ‘fans.’
“You know, if I hadn’t seen the Golden Gate Grind on TimeOut San Francisco’s article about the best Insta-worthy coffee spots, we never would’ve met,” Tobin said while trying a boba flavored coffee she was in the process of inventing.
He winched slightly at the taste but reassured, “Needs a bit of work, but it’s better than the macaroon mocha. I have no doubt you’ll kill it on the next one.”
He hopped off the counter and gave her a fist bump.
She had never met anyone who’s enthusiasm matched her own. She was even invited to a game night with him and his best friend, Leif. She knew that she had made it into the little group when she dominated them in Super Mario Party. She had a lot of practice growing up with her brother.
It was going so well that she even started to forget He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, well, until that morning.
She was dusting the shelves and pushing in chairs when she saw Tobin approach the store, snapback in hand and shades in the other. He had once told her that it was the exact pair that Chris Hemsworth had worn in a Vanity Fair cover.
She rushed over the door to greet him, but trailing behind him were the two people she never wanted to see again.
“Autumn!” Tobin greeted her, pulling her into a hug. She saw both Zoey’s and Max’s eyes grow three times at the interaction.
“I was just going to stop by to say hello before work when I ran into these two. This is Max and Zoey,” Tobin pointed them out.
He whispered to her, “They’re not on my Instagram because he dresses like a third-grader and she’s my boss but a pain to work with. She makes us write in journals like we are in 7th grade English.”
Max stifled a laugh and Zoey scrunched her nose. “We can hear you, Tobin,” Zoey pointed out.
Tobin grumbled, “Maybe I wanted you to hear that. Maybe I wanted you to realize that the whole journal thing is pointless. Maybe I wanted you to finally treat us like full-grown adults.” Tobin crossed his arms, vaguely resembling Autumn’s five-year-old cousin.
Zoey rolled her eyes before her gaze turned to Autumn. Her voice softened as she lent the blonde a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Autumn smiled politely, “Likewise.”
Tobin, not aware of any residual tension, perked up. “Autumn made this new blend yesterday. It’s a must-try. French Toast Frappuccino. It’s a caramel pump away from a heart attack in a paper cup, but worth every drop. I swear, one day she’s going to own every coffee shop in SF.”
Autumn blushed as she shook her head, “Aww. It’s nothing, just something I like to do for fun.”
“I’d love to try it,” Max offered, extending a metaphorical olive branch.
Before she could even start to conceive a plan of attack, Tobin swung his arm around her shoulders and started walking inside the coffee shop.
“Guys, how many croissants do you think could fit in my murse? I bet a solid five, six if you account for a little smush.”
Tobin turned his head when he heard footsteps pattering away. “Guys?”
Max and Zoey were halfway to their car when they stopped in their tracks. “We have, uh. . .” Max looked at Zoey.
“Work,” Zoey said while Max said, “Cook,” at the same time. Zoey gave him a look.
“Well, okay,” Tobin replied, “We should do this again sometime! Put it up on the Insta!”
Tobin turned back to Autumn, mumbling, “They’re never going on the Insta.”
She could hear bits and pieces of Zoey and Max’s conversation before they got into the car.
“When did she start working here again? We can’t change our coffee spot again.”
“Not only that,” Zoey confirmed, “We haven’t been back to the aquarium for months. It’s been a real travesty.”
Max already pulled out his phone. “I’ll get tickets for this weekend. Ever heard of Yoga with the Sharks?”
Tobin held the door open for Autumn. She affirmed, “He really does dress like a third-grader.”
Tobin nodded in response, “You know what he could use?”
“A men’s version of FabFitFun?”
It was certain Tobin liked her answer because he linked arms with her while they walked into the coffee shop.
“My first customer. I wonder how he feels about toners.”