Chapter Four – Patterns and Detours

Lily

Life is made up of patterns.

Wake up. Go to class. Work my shift. Go home. Repeat.

Some days are slightly different—maybe I grab coffee before class or stay up too late watching reruns of old sitcoms with Rachel—but mostly, it's the same routine.

And then there's Ethan.

He's become part of the pattern now.

At first, it was just a weird coincidence. A guy who showed up at the same time every day for a single lollipop. But now, I find myself waiting for it, anticipating that familiar moment when the door chime rings and he walks in, hands in his pockets, heading straight for the candy aisle like clockwork.

And every time, I tell myself not to read into it.

But some days, that's harder than others.

Thursday is busy from the moment I clock in.

There's a new trainee at the register next to mine, a nervous-looking girl named Ava who keeps shooting me wide-eyed looks like I'm some kind of expert in customer service. It's cute, really, but I'm barely surviving the day myself.

By the time 4:15 rolls around, I'm exhausted.

And then—right on cue—the door chime rings.

I don't even have to look up.

I already know.

Ethan moves through the store with the same casual ease he always does, disappearing into the candy aisle before emerging with—

I pause.

A green lollipop.

Not cherry. Not even strawberry.

Green apple.

I stare at it when he places it on the counter. "Okay, now you're just messing with me."

He shrugs. "Just keeping things interesting."

I huff, scanning it. "You do realize you're ruining my scientific study, right?"

His lips twitch. "Scientific study?"

"Yes. I was gathering data to determine whether you actually liked cherry or if this whole thing was just some elaborate, deeply weird tradition."

"And?"

"Well, I was starting to lean toward 'weird tradition,' but now..." I narrow my eyes. "Now, I'm starting to think you're just chaotic."

He smirks. "That's a bold accusation."

"I stand by it."

His gaze flickers like he wants to say something else, but before he can, a customer behind him clears their throat loudly.

Ethan exhales, shaking his head slightly. "Guess I'll let you get back to work."

And just like that, he's gone again.

That night, Rachel and I order takeout and spread out on the couch, watching some reality dating show where everyone is terrible.

Halfway through an episode, she turns to me. "So... how's Ethan?"

I throw a pillow at her.

She dodges it easily, grinning. "Oh, come on. You set yourself up for that one."

I sigh. "He's fine. Still buying lollipops like it's his life's mission."

Rachel hums, stealing a fry from my container. "You should ask him out."

I nearly choke. "What?"

"You heard me."

"That's... no." I shake my head. "That's not—he's just some guy who comes into the store."

Rachel gives me a pointed look. "Uh-huh. Sure."

I roll my eyes, turning back to the screen. But the thought lingers longer than I'd like.

The next few days pass in a blur of assignments, work, and the occasional sarcastic text from Rachel.

Saturday, I wake up early to study at a coffee shop near campus. I order a large latte, find a corner table, and crack open my laptop, fully prepared to spend the next three hours drowning in coursework.

And then—because the universe is apparently obsessed with messing with me—I hear a familiar voice.

"You're in my spot."

I glance up.

Ethan.

Standing in front of me, holding a cup of coffee, looking way too amused.

I blink. "Excuse me?"

He gestures vaguely around us. "I usually sit here."

I raise an eyebrow. "This is your spot?"

"Yep."

I glance around the café. "There are, like, fifteen other tables."

"But this one's the best."

I scoff, shaking my head. "Well, sorry to disappoint, but I got here first."

Ethan exhales like this is a great personal tragedy. Then, without waiting for an invitation, he pulls out the chair across from me and sits down.

I stare at him. "What are you doing?"

"Finding a new spot."

I huff a laugh. "Unbelievable."

He grins, taking a sip of his coffee.

And just like that, I know my study session is doomed.