I squeeze through a throng of girls sitting on the kitchen counters and a crowd of guys standing before them. I make my way to the fridge, where I grab a water bottle. One of the best things about being the designated driver is that no one pressures me into doing multiple group shots to 'loosen up' for a night of fun. I can literally sit and watch them embarrass themselves in the corner of the room. I guess it's a 'perk' of being the only one out of my 'friends' with a car.

"Can you grab me one of those?" a girl asks from behind me just as I rip open the plastic wrap around the bottles. I glance back and hand her the one I just snagged. I take another for myself before turning around. When my eyes land on her, I furrow my eyebrows in slight recognition.

"Don't you work at the campus coffee shop?" I ask as I wag my finger a bit.

"I hate how that's the only reason people recognize me," she answers with a small smile. "I am much more than an espresso enthusiast."

"Sorry, I just spend a lot of time there," I reply with a small shrug. Especially this past week; I was at the coffee shop twice a day: once before classes to ensure I stay awake through them and once after work ensure I stay awake for the rest of the day. How else would I get through the first week back if it weren't for coffee?

"I guess I can't talk. I recognize you from there as well," she confesses sheepishly. "Medium iced coffee, light and sweet, two pumps of vanilla?"

"That's me," I answer with a surprised grin.

"You have a very memorable face," she comments as her brown eyes briefly assess me. "Pretty, is what I'm trying to say."

"Thanks," I respond as I analyze her. Her black hair, which is typically tugged back into a ponytail at work, is tied into two braids that rest on her shoulders. The glasses she usually wears have been replaced with what I'm assuming are contacts. Either that or she's walking around blind. Her black and green uniform is exchanged for a cute light pink dress that compliments her pale skin. "You are, too."

"Okay, not to be blunt but before this goes any further, I have to ask: are you gay?" she blurts.

The question throws me off a bit so I laugh in surprise. "No, sorry," I answer with a slightly apologetic smile.

"Not even a little?" she responds with slightly raised eyebrows.

"Nope. I actually have a boyf-," I stop mid-sentence, which causes her to quirk a brow. "Actually I don't...anymore."

"Recent breakup?" she inquires with a tilted head so I nod. "Drowning your sorrows in alcohol?"

I laugh and shake my head. "Designated driver," I inform her as I motion to my water.

"Your friends are trying to cheer you up by bringing you out to a party and making you a designated driver?" she asks with raised eyebrows. I give a weak chuckle at the idea of them bringing me to have a good time. I've come to the conclusion that I'm being used for my car.

"You know, I think they're going to be my next break up," I comment as I brush a strand of hair from my face. She offers me an understanding nod before a small grin falls onto her lips.

"So what I'm getting out of this is that you're in need of new friends," she concludes after staring up and to the left as if doing a difficult equation. "That's crazy because I just reached 5 stars on Yelp for my amazing service of friendship. I can't help you out with a boyfriend though, sorry."

My grin widens. "I guess it was fate that we met," I reply as I take a sip of my water.

She holds a hand out for me to shake. "I'm not sure if you've ever bothered to read my nametag but I'm-."

"Maya," I answer for her as she releases my grip. "I read your nametag and it also says your name on the receipts, which I hoard in my wallet."

"Can I guess your name?" she asks after laughing at my response.

"Sure," I reply, curious to hear what she thinks it may be.

"You look like an...Alexis," she proposes with a hopeful gaze and two index fingers pointed my way.

"Way off," I respond with an amused headshake. "That wasn't even close. How do I look like an Alexis?"

"Your dark, wavy hair, brown eyes, and your tan skin," she replies as she vaguely points to my features as she lists them "You just look like an Alexis."

"Ivy," I inform her with a playful eye roll.

"Like the poison?" she presses.

"Like the poison," I nod with a tight lipped smile. It's definitely not the first time I've gotten that. She glances down at my shirt and a grin breaks out onto her face.

"Twilight?" she gasps and I tug the ends of the top to show it off. "I think we're going to be great friends."

Just like she predicts, Maya and I joke and make conversation for the rest of the night. We don't part ways until Kelsi comes over and tells me she feels like she's going to puke. With the help of my new friend, I round up the girls and call it a night. After leading them to the car and packing them in, Maya asks for my social media and I willingly give it to her in hopes of her actually pursuing friendship with me.

"You're not going to forget about me in this drunken stupor right?" she asks teasingly as I close the door on the girls.

"Perhaps...all the water I had tonight was quite intoxicating. My memory is definitely going to be impaired come morning," I respond with a laugh.

"We'll see about that. I'll see you around then, Ivy Flores," she says as I open the driver's side door.

"You as well, Maya Lu," I respond with a grin.

+++

I stay true to my word and I do see Maya around. The week that follows the 'first party of the semester' is filled with infrequent stops at the coffee shop. I broke my previous pattern of twice because I'd typically give up on the idea of being productive so I could nap after work. Most of my stops at the coffee shop are in the morning when she isn't working. However, when I walk in at half past 3PM on Thursday, I spot her standing alone behind the counter. When she sees me, she offers me a large grin. It's a hesitant one though, as if the memory of us meeting isn't as fond to me as it is to her.

"Maya Lu," I greet as I approach the counter and place my hands on it. The smile on her face is infectious and spreads to me fast. I don't bother containing it.

"Ivy Flores," she welcomes me as she taps lightly against the screen. "Let me guess?"

"Go ahead," I confirm and she types in my usual order. "How's your shift going?"

"Boring," she replies. "When it's dead like this, time passes painstakingly slow. What about you-how's your day? How were your classes?"

"Great. I got out at noon and then I worked," I inform her. "One of my classes is probably going to kill me, though."

"Which class?' she presses as she concocts my usual drink.

"History," I respond with a sigh. I notice that the hoop that was in her nose the other night is now replaced with a stud. Her regular ponytail is back and her glasses hang dangerously low on her nose.

"Which history are you taking?" she questions with a slightly raised brow. Her finger slides up her face and adjusts her frames absentmindedly.

"Which history am I not taking?" I mumble with a slow shake of my head. I am a history major after all. "Specifically, History 2505."

"I'm taking that class!" she exclaims while swirling my coffee around. I accept it and stab a straw through the lid before bringing it to my lips. I tune back into the conversation and remind myself of the topic at hand: our shared history class. I assume she's taking it as a general education requirement or else I'd know her. The history major is particularly small here. "Who's your professor?"

"Eric Donovan," I respond, which earns wide eyes from her.

"Dude, me too!" she replies in a slightly excited manner. Just like her smile, the excitement wafts over to me and I find myself perking up a bit. "Monday and Wednesday at 9:30?"

"Yeah," I answer with a growing smile.

"The stupid group project?" she continues to guess.

"Yes! It's so stupid," I agree with a long eye roll.

"I don't even have a partner yet. Do you?" She tilts her head hopefully.

"Nope." I try to relax the large grin on my face. "Do you want to work together?"

"Of course." I'm happy that my eagerness is matched. "I should warn you that my schedule is hectic so finding time to get started might be hard. But it isn't due for a while so I think we should be okay."

"That's fine. My schedule is pretty flexible so we'll definitely be able to find time that works," I respond.

"Are you free on Monday at 5?" She takes a second to think about her schedule. I do the same.

"Sure, where?" 

"My apartment if that's cool," she suggests. "If not, we can do the library or wherever. I'll just get there a little late; I don't drive so I'd have to change out of my uniform and then walk."

"Your apartment works with me." I shrug. "Just text me the address."

"Will do," she says as a customer enters the shop. I leave her to her job, ready to go back to my dorm and get some homework done.