Work Text:
That girl was back - the one who’d come in every day at ten in the morning, ordered a hot chocolate and a different snack, and sat down at the table in the middle of the room to peruse her phone. Inej suspected she was a college student who had procrastination down to a carefully scheduled science, though she couldn’t imagine what was so important about the atmosphere of this particular shop that the girl needed to come every day.
Maybe it was a before-class routine. Show up, grab a pick-me-up, flit into the lecture fifteen minutes late with breakfast. But she never carried a backpack or a laptop, and her purse didn’t seem big enough to hold much more than wallet and tissues. Maybe it was an after-class routine? But the girl also didn’t seem dead enough inside to be taking eight AM courses.
There was no reason to speculate, really, but making up stories about the inner lives of customers was a good way to whittle away the boring hours. Pouring coffee wasn’t nearly as strenuous as it seemed, at least once you’d memorized the variations on the menu. Inej needed to keep her mind as occupied as her hands were lest she start thinking about things she'd rather forget. The majority of people who came through in the early morning were middle-aged nine-to-fives on their way to work, hands trembling with the need for their caffeine fix. Late morning and early afternoon you had the college kids. Nina was right on the cusp of those, but the leisurely way she ate her pastries and sipped her hot chocolate gave Inej the impression she didn’t have somewhere pressing to be.
At least, Nina was probably her name. That was the name she said to write on the cups. Jesper was interested in her, as much as he was interested in every outrageously friendly person who breezed through here, but he’d been too distracted by this other college regular to indulge Inej’s curiosity. Working was hard when you were busy grinning at the nervous freshman tucked into the corner.
Inej resigned herself to Jesper being borderline useless until his crush left, and snapped on her customer service smile. “What can I get for you today?”
Nina leaned over the counter the same way she had for the past three days. Surely she was aware of what that did to her cleavage. She was very pretty. Inej pulled herself from inappropriate-for-work thoughts and accidentally scowled in her effort not to show where her mind had wandered.
Nina made a sympathetic noise at the expression. “Tough morning? I just want a large hot chocolate and a slice of that key lime pie there.” Same drink, different food, like always. She’d never ordered the same dessert twice.
“Sorry. Tired.” Inej punched in the order.
“That’s just her face,” Jesper offered, looking up from the table he was wiping down.
Nina laughed, startlingly genuine, like she couldn’t think of any better place to be than a coffee house staffed by socially incompetent twenty-year-olds. “Don’t be mean. It’s a nice face.”
Inej's cheeks darkened.
---
A week later, she was reasonably sure Nina was flirting with her, but she was also reasonably sure Nina was flirting with Jesper, and also with anyone she happened to be standing in line with her regardless of their age or gender. It was easy enough to be taken in by her. Inej got the feeling Nina appreciated the attention more than she actually desired the person in question.
A lead not worth pursuing, even if she did make Inej’s face heat. Besides, Inej was damaged enough. Anyone who was going to put up with that would have to be… someone different from a pretty girl she met in a coffeeshop, probably. Nina had complimented her bracelets, her hot chocolate making skills (“I press a button on a machine”), and her hijab twice (“you said my hijab was beautiful three days ago” “yes, it is impossible to have more than one gorgeous scarf”). No one was that kind without having something to hide.
...It was also entirely possible that Inej was a huge cynic.
“Hot chocolate and…” Nina paused in her order, which was unusual. “What have I not eaten yet?”
“Lemon meringue pie, raspberry tart, cherry tart, and all of the chocolate cakes.”
“Right! I was saving the chocolate cakes for last.” Nina grinned, her eyes sparkling. “I’ll have a slice of the lemon meringue. How do you remember all that, anyway? Do you have a secret chart?”
Inej shook her head. “Just a good memory.”
“Aha. You’re keeping track of the mystery girl eating all your food.”
“Well, we appreciate good business,” Inej said, trying not to show how accurate that actually was. “And I need something to occupy my brain while I’m here.”
“Sudoku might be easier,” Nina suggested, but there was nothing but delight in her face. “Having such a keen mind for puzzles and all.”
---
“She likes you,” Jesper said, almost solemnly, as Inej wiped down the counter to close down her shift.
“What? Who?”
“Nina.”
“She thinks I’m creepy.”
“No, you think you’re creepy. Nina likes you.”
“I’m pretty sure Nina likes everyone.”
“She really likes you.”
“Then why hasn’t she done anything about it?”
“Because she is a nice person who doesn’t want to pressure you while you’re at work.” Jesper yawned. “If you want to pursue anything, you have to make the first move.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Excuse you. I am an expert at giving dating advice. I am the romance master.”
“I don’t even know if I want to date her!”
“If you want to be friends you have to make the first move.”
“I don’t know if I want to be friends with her!”
“How,” Jesper said, with the longsuffering air of a parent watching their child make incredibly stupid mistakes, “can one person be this bad at socializing.”
Inej swatted him with her towel.
---
It was 10:12 AM and Inej was worried about Nina.
Which was ridiculous. There were a million reasons Nina might not show up to the coffeeshop at her usual time, and maybe two of them involved life-threatening situations. But Inej wasn’t great at not catastrophizing, and if she was being honest, seeing Nina had become a bright point to her day, and planning to slip her her phone number wouldn’t work if Nina disappeared and never showed up again, and if Nina disappeared that meant Jesper had been wrong in the first place.
10:13 AM and Nina walked in.
Inej could instantly tell that something was wrong. Nothing about Nina’s clothing had changed, and she wasn’t openly weeping or anything, but her usually-immaculate hairstyle had a few strands out of place. They clung to her temples like she didn’t care enough to sweep them away. Her shoulders were ever-so-slightly hunched, and the skin under her eyes was a shade too pale, like she’d had to layer too much concealer to hide dark circles. When she opened her mouth to order, there was a tiny bit of lipstick askew on her front teeth, and Inej only noticed it then because her usual smile was absent.
The worry kicked into overdrive.
She probably overslept and didn’t have a chance to fuss over her makeup, Inej told herself, but there was a strange rawness to Nina’s voice when she spoke, like she’d been crying. “A large hot chocolate and a slice of double fudge chocolate cake.” A pause. “Actually, two slices of double fudge chocolate cake. Please.”
Inej almost expected her to break routine entirely, to grab her bag and stride out the door and not look back, but Nina took her usual chair at her usual little table. The shop was nearly empty, caught in the lull between morning coffees and lunch pick-me-ups, and Inej decided to throw caution to the wind. She moved out from behind the counter.
“Hey,” she said, hopping up on the seat across from Nina. “You can tell me to go away if I’m overstepping my bounds, but are you okay?”
Nina looked up from her phone, and for an alarming moment Inej was sure she was going to burst into tears right there. But then she offered a quavering smile and said, “Yeah, I’m okay. I mean, I’ll be okay. Just got some bad news.”
Inej hesitated, reminding herself that she was at work. But the only other employee around was Jesper, and she’d never been anything less than professional before. She’d never even missed a shift. There was no way she could lose her job over this.
“Can I help?” she asked.
Again, Nina looked like she was going to cry. She swallowed hard a few times, her eyes shiny, and gave up on the smile. “That’s really sweet of you,” she said. “But I’m not sure you’d want to involve yourself with me. I'm kind of a mess.”
“Trust me, I’m no picnic either. Hold on a second.”
Inej hopped off her seat and disappeared behind the counter, returning a moment later with a sticky note and a pen. “Here,” she said, scrawling her phone number. “If you ever need anything. You don’t have to contact me, I won’t be offended if you don’t, but just in case.”
Even despite Jesper’s insistence that Nina liked her, Inej was still surprised when Nina programmed the number into her phone instead of crumpling the sticky up. “Thank you,” she said.
Inej didn’t think anything of it beyond that she may be able to help someone in need, until she stepped into the back room to check on the new shipment of coffee beans and Jesper shot her a thumbs up.
Crap.
---
“I didn’t take advantage of her being sad so that I could give her my number,” Inej hissed. “I’m not that kind of person.”
“No, I know.” Jesper was laughing, which made her want to punch him. “You’re too honest for that. That makes it even cuter.”
“I’m going to hang you by your entrails.”
“As long as you invite my ghost to the wedding.”
By the time she got home, she’d devoted more concentration to how much Jesper needed to be punched than to whatever had been plaguing Nina, but her worry returned full force when she realized Nina had texted her.
Hey. U busy?
Inej paused. no, just got home from work
Do u maybe wanna get a coffee?
Wait no you’re probably sick of coffee crap
Do u wanna take a walk?
...are you sad or flirting?
Why not both
U can say no if u want I’m not having some kind of crisis
Pinkie swear
It took less than two seconds to decide. meet me in the park?
Sounds good!
Followed by a bunch of party emojis Inej didn’t even know existed.
---
Walking got old fast. Inej and Nina sat on a park bench instead, watching joggers pass and people walk their dogs in the twilight. People watching had always been more interesting to Inej than nature, anyway.
“I know you have to be nice when you’re working,” Nina said. “You can’t curse people out or tell them to screw off even if you really want to. I just want to make sure…”
“Do I look like I’m at work right now?” Inej shook her head. “I wouldn’t have given you my number if I didn’t like you.”
Nina hesitated. “I think I sometimes give people the wrong impression. Plenty of people meet me and think I’m… gonna do the whole manic pixie dream girl thing, change their lives and vanish into the mist.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I’m not a plot device.” She hooked an ankle around the leg of the bench. “Who do you think I am?”
Inej hummed. “Are you looking for honesty or flattery?”
“Honesty. I can get flattery anywhere.”
She gathered her thoughts, speaking slowly. “You like to be noticed. You like it when people see you and their heads turn, you like being liked. You like flirting because it’s fun and because the attention is fun, but you don’t actually want it to go further than friendliness. You know you’re pretty enough to get people to do anything for you, but you like to make people happy too. That’s why you’re always complimenting people and being kind to them - you don’t have to do that to be liked, all you have to do is act friendly. You want to have a positive influence on everyone you come across, but you don’t let anyone get close enough to see anything except the smiles, because you don’t want anyone figuring out you aren’t perfect.” Inej took a deep breath. She’d kept her eyes on Nina the whole time, but Nina had broken eye contact a few seconds in, feigning interest in a husky romping through the grass. “You’re not a bad person, but you’re trying really hard to be a better-than-good person. I’m guessing because you’ve done bad things.”
Nina was silent for long enough that Inej started to wonder if that was too much honesty, if maybe she’d screwed everything up. But then she ran a hand through her hair, mussing up the meticulously laid strands, and said, “You’re a keen observer.”
“I watch people. I learn about them. It’s kind of my thing.”
“Why?”
“I have issues.”
Nina laughed. “Everyone has issues.”
“I… have more issues than the average person.” Inej chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Trust issues, mostly. You have to get a handle on how people work. How they behave around you, how they behave around other people, what their motivations are. That’s the only way you can learn if you’ll be safe around them.”
“And you think I’m a… safe person?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
Nina nodded, contemplative. “I got out of rehab a few months ago,” she said finally. “I’m learning how to - to like the world again. Like myself again. The coffeeshop is one of my feel-good projects. I really, really like sweets, so I’m working my way through trying them all. It gives me something to look forward to. I know that probably sounds really simplistic and stupid, but it’s… important to me. Learning to like things again.”
That was actually unexpected. It wasn’t often people managed to surprise Inej with something completely out of left field. She tilted her head, trying to match the image of this friendly girl to a recovering addict, to see where the lines of struggle had changed her. It wasn’t easy, but then again, it also wasn’t like there was one set image of what an addict looked like. Stereotyping wouldn’t get her anywhere.
“Hmm,” she said.
Nina smiled, a flush creeping up her cheeks, still not quite making eye contact. “It’s okay. Most people don’t know what to say when they find out, or they ask totally inappropriate questions. It’s not like it’s an easy small talk topic.”
“Would you mind having a friend?” Inej asked.
Nina barked a startled laugh. “Uh.”
“Was that one of the totally inappropriate questions? Crap.”
“What - no! No, it’s - I just wasn’t expecting that.” Nina rubbed the back of her neck. “Usually people want to know what I was hooked on or how many days I’ve been clean or what sort of harrowing life story led me down such a deep, dark path.”
“The people you talk to sound like idiots,” Inej said. “Who cares about all that?”
“Apparently everyone.”
“It’s stupid. They want all the gritty details so they can tell themselves a story, so they have a reason to cast pity on you and thank God it wasn’t them. The curiosity is natural, I guess. People love to hear about suffering, like they can glean some understanding of their own lives through other people’s misfortune. But it’s stupid. What happened doesn’t matter unless you want to tell it. What you need matters more.”
Nina paused, tugging on the end of her sleeve, and finally managed eye contact again. “Are you…?”
“Not an addict,” Inej said with a shrug. “But - I have issues.”
“Would you mind having a friend?”
The question was so open, so earnest. Inej considered it carefully. She had no idea if a friendship with Nina would ever blossom into something else, and no guarantees that it wouldn’t be without its share of messiness. Friendship was always a risk, no matter how kind the parties were, no matter how firm the boundaries, no matter how good the communication. Relationships were a bigger risk. It was one thing to support a person who needed support, something else entirely to let herself be supported, like letting go of a tightrope without knowing whether the net would hold. But she liked Nina, and she had no reason to doubt her intentions, and if she spent the rest of her life not taking risks then she’d never get to be the person she wanted to be.
“I think I’d like that,” Inej said, and smiled, and gently took Nina’s hand.