Slow It Down

Part 13 •REWRITTEN•

I nod toward the counter. "Did you want to grab anything?"

"No, I already had an energy drink." He lifts his nearly empty can, lightly shaking it to show there's only a swig left. "But thanks."

"Oh." I try not to sound disappointed, but judging by the ghost of a smirk that touches his mouth, I'm not as subtle as I want to be.

We sit in an awkward quiet for a few seconds before he finally leans forward, elbows resting on the table. He rests his prominent chin on the back of his hand, loosely curled into a fist.

"So," he says slowly, "are we gonna pretend this isn't awkward as hell?"

Heat rushes to my cheeks. I'm nearly too caught off guard to speak. "I—wait—what?"

"You're acting like you're afraid to look at me," he replies simply. "Which... okay, fair. But we should probably get past it if we're trying to work together."

My mouth opens, closes, then opens again, uselessly. "I'm not—" I begin to deny, but he gives me a knowing look. "Okay, maybe a little." I admit while glancing down at the table.

He lifts an eyebrow. "A little?"

I lift my gaze, glaring just enough to make him laugh under his breath, and the knot of tension inside me loosens.

"We'll figure it out," he says quietly, but confidently. "One step at a time."

Something in his tone—calm, steady, almost reassuring—makes my shoulders relax. I flip open my notebook and push it toward him.

"I know we have somewhat of a business plan. But first, we need a name," I tell him, rubbing my forehead. "Something catchy but not cringey."

He scans the list, brow lifting. "You seriously wrote down ReThreaded?"

"It makes sense!" I protest. "People send in old clothes, and we redesign them. Thread—fabric? Get it?"

"I get it," he says, smirking. "I also get that it sounds like some Etsy store run by a grandma."

I reach for my pen to cross it out, but he snatches the notebook away first.

"Hold on." He taps his own pen lightly against his lip, thinking. "What about something simple? ReNew?"

I ponder for a moment before I shake my head. "Sounds too much like a skincare brand."

He nods in agreement, flipping the pen between his fingers. His eyes drift up as he considers. "Okay... what about Second Stitch?"

The name is so unexpectedly good that I blink. "Wait. That's actually... kind of perfect."

His lips twitch in a smug almost-smile as he sets my notebook back on the table. "Of course it is."

I roll my eyes at him as I reach across the table to take my notebook back and write it down, even though I can feel the faint smile tugging at my own mouth. I place stars beside the name, labeling it as our top contender.

"Anything else?" I ask.

When I glance over at him, our eyes meet and hold a moment longer than they should. The amusement is still there, but beneath it lingers something quieter—curiosity, maybe. Familiarity. Or the memory of who we used to be.

I break eye contact, looking back down at our list of options. He tilts his head slightly. "ReVamp?"

A humorous huff escapes me before I can stop it. "Are we running a clothing business or launching an emo comeback band?"

He nudges my foot under the table, smirking. It's easy and effortless, the kind of teasing that feels natural despite the years between us. For a brief moment it feels like the weight of the past lifts, leaving only the two of us at a table, working on a school project like nothing complicated ever happened.