Tristan crosses from the counter, balancing a tray of pastries. He sets it down in the center of our table, then leans on the back of Priya's chair.
"Don't make me get Margit on you to pin that letter up," he says, looking directly at me.
Priya snorts into her coffee. Liv laughs. I roll my eyes but I'm smiling.
Tristan tilts his head, studying me.
Grins.
"So. Is this glow just about the exhibition? Or is there someone else putting that smile on your face?"
He winks at the table. Then he walks away.
My face goes hot.
The table erupts.
"Oh my," Priya says, voice pitching up. "You're BLUSHING."
"I am not—"
"You absolutely are," Liv says.
Priya leans back in her chair, arms crossed, grinning. "Tristan's not wrong. You've been glowing for weeks."
I press my palms flat against the table. "Can we not—"
"We absolutely can," Priya says. She tears off another piece of croissant, pointing it at me like evidence. "You show up on timenow. You laugh at bad jokes. You haven't color-coded a single thing in months."
"That's not—"
"It's Tom," Nadia says.
I close my mouth.
Priya slaps the table. "I KNEW IT."
"You already knew it," I say.
"Yeah, but now you're GLOWING about it," Maya says. "That's different."
Liv sets her tea down carefully. "It's a good look on you."
I pick up my coffee, take a sip, set it back down.
Priya's grin widens. She leans forward, elbows on the table, chin in her hands. "Okay. Real talk. What are you wearing to the exhibition?"
I blink. "What?"
"Your outfit," she says slowly, like I'm missing something obvious. "Friday night. Gallery full of people. Cameras. Judges. What are you wearing?"
My mind goes blank.
"I... haven't thought about it."
Nadia's head snaps up. "Sam."
"What? I've been focused on the work, not—"
