Summary:

Lara Jean never stopped writing. Even when love wasn't enough to hold a relationship together, she continued to write her way into a graduate program. It's true—she's not the relationship-type of girl anymore, but she simply doesn't believe love is in her cards right now. However, what happens when one Peter Kavinsky makes a strange appearance in her life even after several years have passed since their breakup?

—

I collapse on my bed at almost 2am. When I picked up the part-time position at The Bean, a local coffee shop, to bake pastries and cookies, I didn't anticipate being this exhausted but I can't complain too much. The extra money helps and every so often, I get to people-watch and get some inspiration for my fictional pieces for grad school workshops. Best of all, I get to feature some of my own baked stuff once a month, which is the main reason why I got home so late today. I started experimenting with gluten-free brownies for April. It's not going well.

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of the coffee machine. "Make me some too!" I say loud enough for my roommate to hear.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine." Mia walks into my room with two mugs of coffee and sits on my bed next to me. I glance over to the clock and then back at Mia and I can't help but notice she's already dressed, made up, and ready for the day. I will never understand morning people.

"I know you've been so busy at the coffee shop lately, but can you come home early tonight? I finally scored a date with this guy from my poetry class and he's bringing a friend—"

"Not from poetry. Nope. Don't date anyone from your field, Mia. Poets are so temperamental. Besides, you still owe from the last double-date I went on for you." I cringe at the memory. The guy wouldn't stop talking about fungi over dinner. How rude.

"Please! I'll buy you those chocolate chips that are so expensive!" She clasps her hands together and pouts.

I squint my eyes at her. I desperately want those chocolate chips for a new cookie recipe I'm trying out, but is it worth another bad date? Granted, I never take these dates seriously anymore and it's not because I've given up on love or anything. I've accepted that it simply isn't the right time to love. I've only been in two serious relationships in my life: Peter Kavinsky in high school and part of college, and Nick Manalo during my gap years before graduate school. In both cases, "love" just wasn't enough. There were too many things to do, places to explore, stories to write. Eventually, days would pass without a single phone call or text message, or someone would get jealous, or we'd just be too independent to go on together. Of course the break-ups were hard to get through, but nothing was as bad as letting Peter go. I suppose that's true for any first love, but I don't know. In any case, I've gotten used to being alone and I like it... for the most part.

"Two bags of chocolate chips and you've got yourself a deal," I say as I start getting ready.

Mia fist pumps and begins rattling off details of the meet-up. I go through my morning routine with ease, but a thought keeps nagging me: When is the right time for a relationship? When I was still with Peter, I thought how much better it would be if we were older, if we could be together at 27 instead of 17. In my mid-20s now, I wonder if I'm reaching that age to be with someone again, to be able to rely on them, and come home to them. I think of Margo and her boyfriend, Ravi. In all honesty, I didn't think they'd last for this long, but it seems like they've found the perfect balance. I wonder if I'll get there one day. I really hope so.

After another half hour of listening to Mia's excitement, we head out together to The Bean to work on our short stories for class. I'm currently struggling to branch out from the romance stories I've always loved reading since I was younger. My assignment this week is to write something suspenseful, but it always comes back to a love story and I guess I never outgrew the genre.

We walk into the building and my boss, Trixie, smiles up from behind the counter. It's a smart space catered for the university crowd with plugs everywhere and the wi-fi password clearly written on the chalkboard wall. Trixie's dad used to own this place, but when it didn't compete well with the new Starbucks in the area, Trixie came up with some great ideas to revive the place. Soon, The Bean was known for having trivia or board game nights, open mics, and other fun events.

I came here for the first time for the MFA graduate students poetry and short story open mic, and I just fell in love with the place. At the time, Trixie was starting a new project to introduce homemade baked goods to the menu. I remember her bringing a plate of cookies over to the grad students' table and asking for feedback on some free cookies. They were rock hard and had too many chocolate chips, but they were free, so we kept eating them anyway. I gave Trixie some advice, and she hired me on the spot.

"I didn't think we'd see you today after you spent so much time here last night," she says.

"I can't stay away from your coffee for too long, Trix." I sit down at the corner table and plug in my computer. "What did you think of the brownie batch I made last night?"

"Your best batch by far. I couldn't even tell it was gluten-free. You think it's ready to be featured?" We talk a little more about my recipe and other plans when she interrupts to ask, "I forgot to ask if you were busy around 10? I've got some new recruits coming in that need some training and Brandon bailed so..."

"I'm an awful barista. Are you sure you want me to do that?"

"I keep telling you, Lara Jean, you've just got to keep practicing. But anyway, I don't have anyone else right now and besides, you know the basics. It's rush hour that freaks you out."

It's pretty much the same problem I had when I started driving, but training can't be that hard.

"You'll just be showing them around the coffee machine and recipes and stuff. Please?"

"Sure, Trix. How many recruits?"

"Two. I'd do it, but I have that supplier meeting," she rolls her eyes, "but it'll be really simple. One of them will be on shift with you and the other will come back for a shift with me tonight. Besides, it's Wednesday so it shouldn't get too busy in here."

"Sounds good." I quickly go back to my work to get as many words down as possible, but writer's block isn't forgiving. Next thing I know, Trix is calling me to come behind the counter and grind some beans for the day. I put on my apron and pull the step ladder towards me with my foot so I can grab a bag of dark roast beans on the top shelf. I open the cabinet and start pulling things down when Trixie comes back behind the counter.

"Just show them the basics and tell them about the inventory system. We'll go over the menu in parts so just show them how to do the hot drinks fir—"

I hear the bell ring as the door opens and Trixie squeals, "They're here!" The cabinet blocks my view of the incoming recruits so I continue getting the beans off the shelf while she shows them around the front area.

As I'm closing the cabinet door, I hear a girl's high pitched voice introduce herself as Danielle. Another person begins to speak, but I recognize that deep voice and my eyes go wide. No way.

"Peter?" I whisper, too shocked to grasp the entirety of the situation. We hold each other in a lockdown stare. His face is leaner, his hair slightly overgrown, and his eyes... his eyes are the same.

"Hi Lara Jean," he says coolly. He looks down at his shoes and scratches his head, and I realize he's nervous too.

"Oh, good. You know each other! Great, you'll stay on with Lara Jean for the first shift, and Danielle will come back at 4pm. Lara Jean will show you both the basics so just get a feel for the place. It's really chill, you'll see. Be good to them, Lara Jean!" she leaves and waves at us through the window.

"So... let's get started." I say quickly and hop off the stool and move it to the corner. I brush my apron lightly and look at the two of them. Peter stares at me in disbelief and then his lips curl upwards. He's amused. I focus as best I can on Danielle because my heart is racing and my palms are sweaty, and I need to try and not make this awkward. "Let's begin with the back, shall we?"

—

Let me know what you want to happen next! Also sn: the title might change? Anyway, thanks for reading!