chance meeting,
love lasting.
on a seemingly normal night, a famous creator raids a smaller streamer and sets off a chain of events that lead him to his dream girl.
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The second day in Disney World, a baby spit up down my back in line for Frozen Ever After.
Naturally, my friends laughed and teased me about it for the rest of our day in EPCOT. Even Major, three thousand miles away, found the story hilarious.
Between that incident and the rising heat of Florida in summer, I was grateful to leave the park for dinner. My friends even let me pick the restaurant, so we drove to the nearest Shake Shack.
While Brook ordered for the group, Clay and I picked a secluded booth in the corner of the restaurant. Being out with Rye seemed to intimidate him less as the day went on, but I knew the small chance of being recognized still frightened him.
He let me slide into the booth first, offering me a beautiful view of the moon against the sky through the window.
"You okay, Nala?" he asked after a few minutes of silence, his hand closing around mine in my lap.
The simple act made me grin like a fool, barely able to form coherent sentences. "What? Yeah—Yes, I'm fine."
He lifted an eyebrow, his lips fighting his own wide smile.
"I am," I assured him, squeezing his hand. "Just thinking is all."
"About?"
"You, us, the future, everything," I rattled off, getting lost in his eyes. I was sure they cast a hypnotic spell on me because I couldn't look away, or lie.
"Future us, huh?" he teased, rubbing his thumb against my hand. "Is that what you want?"
Burning hot and surely red, I covered my cheeks, muttering a weak, "Yes."
"I do, too," he whispered, though his voice was clear and steady. "We should probably talk about—"
"I swear, they need to lower the minimum wage," Brook huffed, slamming her drink on the table. "I mean, how hard is it to type on a screen?"
Shaking her head, she sat on the inside to face me, steam practically shooting from her ears. "Lani, you won't believe what happened."
I only half-listened to the next ten minutes of her rant. I used to believe Brook was simply opinionated, but if the past few weeks taught me anything it was that she was entitled. She believed the world should bow down to her.
And I wasn't sure it was a character trait she'd ever grow out of.
Beside her, Rye slurped on his milkshake, asking Clay borderline invasive questions between sips.
Every once in a while, I'd feel a gentle squeeze on my hand—Clay's way of saying "Help."
I'd steer their conversation back to Rye, asking him about Twitch, gaming, and funny bartending stories. I had to distract him at least six times throughout dinner, but I didn't mind a bit. I was glad to come to Clay's rescue for once.
