“I ship it,” she says, like she’s announcing something official.
Clara, right behind her, snorts. “Me, too.”
They link arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world and head for the door together, still giggling.
I watch them go before I dare make eye contact with Vivian.
“I don’t know what part of the last five minutes was crazier,” I say.
Her mouth twitches.
“Tank top—” I gesture vaguely toward the door Danielle just disappeared through. “Or the fact that you just walked over and kissed me in front of all ofmygirls.”
Her brows lift. “Yourgirls?”
“You know what I mean.”
She smiles, but there’s something a little smug in it now.
I shake my head once, still trying to catch up. “Although…” I glance toward the door again. “Those two getting along might actually be the most concerning development.”
Laughing, Vivian starts stacking trays without saying anything, sliding tools back into place, sorting charms into their compartments like she’s done it a hundred times, and I fall into step beside her without being asked. Table to table. Clearing. Resetting. Together.
We don’t talk. It’s easy. I pass her a container. She takes it without looking. Our hands brush for half a second, then we keep moving like it didn’t happen.
She picks up a small tray of loose charms, pausing when she notices one sitting in the wrong section.
“You alphabetized these backwards,” she says.
“No way. I absolutely did not.”
Vivian slides me a look. “Ty.”
“I organized them by vibe.”
“That’s not a system.”
“It can be?”
A laugh slips out of her before she can stop it. She shakes her head, moving the charms back into place.
“You would’ve been the kid who put triangle blocks into circle holes just to see if the universe would adapt.”
“It’s called innovation.”
“It disrupts my organization.”
I grin despite myself, reaching for another tray. “You’re kind of bossy when you clean up.”
“You’re kind of annoying when you help.”
“But, I’m willing to bet you don’t mind.”
She turns back to the table, lining up a row of bracelet chains with careful precision. “You know what’s weird?” she asks quietly.
“What?”
“I don’t usually like people touching my stuff.”
