Aleks looks up like he feels someone looking. His eyes flick to the door, lock on mine, and for half a second, he freezes too.
Then he stands. Easy. Unhurried. Like this is exactly where he expected us to meet.
“Sofie,” he says softly.
The kids groan. “You’re leaving?”
“Just moving for a minute,” he says, crouching back down to their level. “I’ll be back.”
One of them squints at him. “You say that every time.”
He smiles. “And every time, I return.”
He steps toward me, voice low now. “You lost?”
I think about what he said last night. The way he said it. The fact that I let it live rent-free in my head. Enjoyed it… too much. I should probably thank him for the thirty-second reel that absolutely played in my memory during my ‘extended bath’ last night, but that is never happening.
“Why are you at my shelter?”
His head tilts. “Your shelter?”
“I didn’t know you came here.” I scowl.
“I didn’t know it was yours,” he shoots back. “Or I’d have avoided it.”
Flustered, I shake my head. “My parents met here. It’s…” I stop. “It’s where I come.”
Something about that makes his mouth twist, brief and amused. Then I catch it.
“What are you, twelve?”
He shrugs. “Ten. Sometimes ten and a half.”
“You’re in America,” I say, walking past him. “We measure in inches, not centimeters.”
I damn near trip when he laughs. Actually laughs.
“What’s so funny?” one of the girls asks.
“His face,” I say before I can stop myself.
That does it. He laughs harder. The kids laugh too. And yeah, fine, I laugh with them.
One of the boys huffs. “Stop flirting with the pretty girl. You said you’d help me learn German.”
“I will,” Aleks promises, glancing back at me as he passes. “And I don’t flirt.”
A little girl tugs on my sleeve. Her hands are warm, her stance confident. “You good at math?”
“I am.”
“Wanna help me?”
I kneel beside her, already reaching for the pencil. “I would love to.”
He offers a ride, I refuse, of course I do.
“It’s not even nine, I’ve walked this path a million times, and I will a million more.”
