Rizzy

You were sitting on the front desk, legs swinging, licking a vanilla ice cream loaded with rainbow sprinkles.

“You know you can’t sit there, y/n. Get off,” Amber said from behind the counter without even looking up.

You rolled your eyes. “Dad’s not here. And who’s gonna come in at six in the morning on a Tuesday?”

Amber snorted. “Aren’t you eighteen now? Shouldn’t you be getting a job or some shit?”

“Shouldn’t you be answering your phone?” you shot back, grinning.

She smiled despite herself. You hopped off the desk and dropped into the chair behind it, spinning once.

The lobby door swung open.

A family rushed in like they’d just realized something was very, very wrong.

Two daughters.

The younger one had a septum piercing, thick curls, and tired eyes like she hadn’t slept.

You caught yourself staring. She looked stressed, arms crossed tight over her chest.

They were speaking German, you guessed. You didn’t understand a word.

“Hey! You guys need help?” you said, slipping off the chair. “My dad’s the manager. You want me to get him?”

The father nodded quickly. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

You pushed through the lobby doors and stepped into the parking lot.

Bobby was out there on a ladder, repainting the faded purple wall.

“Daddy!” you yelled. “Some family with a hot daughter needs your help!”

He didn’t even flinch. “I’ll be there in a minute, sweetie.”

“Copy that,” you muttered, heading back inside.

“He’ll be here in just a minute,” you told them, leaning against the counter. “You can sit if you want.”

Your eyes drifted back to the younger daughter. She noticed this time. Her brows pulled together slightly.

A minute later Bobby came in, wiping his hands on a rag. “Sorry to keep you waiting, folks. What can I help you with?”

The father cleared his throat. “We appear to have made a mistake. We meant to book a Disney resort hotel. Not… a motel near Disney World.”

Bobby nodded calmly. “We’ve got a phone if you’d like to call the resort.”

The man picked it up immediately.

The mother leaned toward him. “Was sagen sie?”

(what are they saying?)

“He’s calling the Disney resort for you,” you explained.

She blinked at you, confused for a second, then nodded politely.

The daughter with the septum answered her mom in German. Her mom looked at her and said something else, nudging her gently.

Manon’s face shifted to disbelief.

“Nein, Mama. Sie starrt mich an,” she muttered.

(no, mom. She’s starting at me)

You tilted your head. “I don’t speak German, but I can tell you’re talking about me. We probably got off on the wrong foot. I’m y/n Hicks.”

She hesitated before answering. “Manon Bannerman.”

Her dad hung up.

“They won’t have a room for us until next week.”

Her younger sister groaned. “We can’t stay here. It’s a motel. It’s disgusting.”

You straightened. “Hey. It’s not disgusting.”

“Let me handle this,” Bobby said calmly. “You’re welcome to stay here. Free of charge. We have an apartment unit, three bedrooms, one bath, kitchen, living space. It’s yours for the week.”

The Bannermans exchanged looks. The father sighed.

While they were talking quietly, you walked over and grabbed Manon’s hand.

“I’m gonna go play,” you called out.

“Y/n—” she started, but you were already pulling her outside.

You stopped near the benches by the vending machines. You sat on the table. She stayed on the bench, arms still crossed.

“So,” you said, licking the last of your ice cream, “family trip to Disney? Aren’t you a little old to have your parents paying for that?”

She looked at you flatly. “Aren’t you a little old to sit on tables?”

You laughed. “Okay. Fair.”

She studied you for a second. “Is he really your father? You don’t look alike.”

You shrugged. “Adopted. He took me in when I was ten. Been here eight years. Turned eighteen two days ago.”

Her posture shifted slightly. “I turned eighteen last week.”

“Oh yeah?” You smirked. “So this is your big birthday trip?”

“I suggested it as a joke,” she said. “Didn’t think he’d actually book a flight to Orlando.”

You nudged her shoe with yours. “Welcome to Florida, princess. You booked the wrong castle.”

She almost smiled.

“So what were you expecting?” you asked. “Fireworks outside your window? Mickey Mouse at the door?”

“I was expecting air conditioning that doesn’t sound like it’s fighting for its life.”

You laughed. “Okay, that’s fair.”

There was a brief pause. The Florida heat was already creeping in even though it was barely morning.

“So,” you said, leaning forward, elbows on your knees now. “You mad you’re stuck here?”

“I’m… adjusting,” she said carefully.

“Good. Because you’re not gonna be bored.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ll show you the good parts. There’s a gift shop down the road that sells fake designer bags and questionable fireworks. And there’s this abandoned mini golf place we sneak into sometimes.”

“We?”

“Me and whoever’s not lame.”

She gave you a look. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re eighteen, German, dramatic, and you think our motel’s disgusting.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Your sister did. Same thing.”

She shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re still sitting here.” That made her look away for a second. From the lobby door, Bobby called out, “Y/n!”

You stood up. “That’s my cue.”

Manon stood too, brushing her hands on her jeans. “You staying?” you asked.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Looks like it.”

You started walking backward toward the lobby. “Cool. Then later, I’m showing you the view from the roof.”

“There’s a roof?”

“Obviously.”

“That sounds unsafe.”

You grinned. “You’ll survive.”

She watched you for a second before following.

“Wearing jeans in this heat is crazy,” you said to Manon as Bobby handed you a key. “You’re gonna regret that in like ten minutes.”

“What do you need?” you asked.

“Take these folks to their room,” he said, dropping the key into your hand.

You nodded once. “Alright. Come on.”

You led them out of the lobby and toward the elevator at the end of the walkway.

“Most people don’t use this,” you said, pressing the button. “It smells like smoke half the time. But since you’ve got luggage, we’ll risk it.”

The doors slid open. You stepped aside. “After you.”

They filed in. You followed last and pressed the button for the fourth floor.

The ride up was slow and loud. You leaned back against the wall like you’d done this a hundred times. Manon stood near the corner, arms loosely crossed, watching the numbers light up.

When the doors opened, the hallway was quiet.

“Okay,” you said, stepping out first. “Nobody’s allowed up here except me and my dad. This apartment hasn’t been used since I was ten.”

You walked to the end of the hall and unlocked the door.

The Bannermans stepped inside cautiously. The apartment was simple but big, three bedrooms, small kitchen, couch, dining table. Clean. Not fancy, but solid.

Her sister looked around, surprised. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you said. “It’s not that bad.”

Bobby had fixed it up years ago and just kept it ready.

“Go ahead, put your stuff down,” you told them.

Then you looked at Manon.

“Come with me.”

She blinked. “Where?”

“I’m gonna show you something. You want ice cream?”

You didn’t wait for an answer. You grabbed her wrist lightly and pulled her back into the hallway, tossing the key to her sister on the way out.

“Hey—” Manon started, but she followed.

The elevator groaned as you both stepped back inside.

“You always drag people around like that?” she asked.

“Only the interesting ones.”

She rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t fighting it.

You didn’t press a button this time. Instead, when the doors opened on the ground floor, you walked past the lobby and straight out toward the side of the building.

There was a small outdoor freezer near the vending machines.

You flipped the lid open and started digging through it. “Dad lets me grab stuff as long as I write it down.”

“You just take whatever you want?” she asked.

“I live here.”

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

You pulled out two ice cream bars and handed her one. “Chocolate or strawberry?”

“Chocolate.”

“Good. Strawberry’s mine.”

You closed the freezer and leaned against it, tearing the wrapper open with your teeth.

She copied you more neatly.

For a second, neither of you talked.

“So,” you said finally, mouth half full, “how long were you planning to stay at Disney?”

“A week.”

“Well. Congrats. You’re staying here a week.”

She took a bite of her ice cream. “I can’t believe my dad misread the booking.”

“What did he type in? ‘Cheap Disney experience’?”

She almost choked trying not to laugh. “Stop.”

“You’re smiling.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

She looked away, but she was.

You nudged her shoulder lightly. “It’s not that bad here.”

She looked around the parking lot. The purple paint. The cracked pavement. The giant souvenir shop across the street shaped like a wizard.

“It’s different,” she said.

“Different’s not bad.”

She studied you for a second. “You really like it here?”

You shrugged. “It’s home.”

There was no joke in your voice that time.

She noticed.

“You’ve lived here since you were ten?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t want to leave?”

You thought about it.

“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But not like… running away. Just seeing what else is out there.”

She nodded slowly.

“I’ve lived in three different cities,” she said. “My dad and mom move for work.”

“See? You’re the experienced one. I’ve barely left Florida.”

“You’ve never been to Disney?”

You looked offended. “Obviously I’ve been to Disney. I live ten minutes away.”

“Do you go often?”

“Nah. Too many tourists.”

She smirked. “Like me.”

“Exactly.”

You both finished your ice cream around the same time.

“Alright,” you said, tossing your stick into the trash. “You wanna see the roof or are you scared?”

She raised an eyebrow again. “You’re very obsessed with this roof.”

“Because it’s the only place around here that doesn’t feel small.” That made her pause. “…Okay,” she said. “Show me.”

You didn’t say anything else. You just started walking.

Instead of heading back toward the lobby, you cut around the side of the building where the paint was more faded and the security camera didn’t work.

“There’s stairs inside,” Manon said. “Yeah. But this is faster.” You pulled open a maintenance door that didn’t fully latch unless someone kicked it.

She hesitated for half a second before following you in. The stairwell was narrow and warm. You climbed without slowing down.

“Do you bring everyone up here?” she asked from behind you.

“No.”

“You said that about dragging people too.”

“I lie sometimes.”

She let out a quiet laugh.

When you reached the top, you pushed open the heavy door that led to the roof. The morning sun hit immediately, bright and already hot.

From up there, you could see the tops of souvenir shops, the highway, and in the distance, just barely, the outline of Disney property. Not the castle exactly. Just the hint of something bigger.

Manon stepped out slowly. “This is it?” she asked. You leaned against the low wall. “Yeah.”

She walked toward the edge carefully, looking out. For a minute, neither of you talked.

“It’s quieter up here,” she said. “Exactly.”

Cars passed below. A truck honked somewhere far off. But up there, it felt separate.

“You come up here a lot?” she asked. “Whenever I don’t feel like being downstairs.”

“With guests?”

“With anyone.”

“So I’m special?" She glanced at you. You smirked. “Relax.” She leaned her elbows on the ledge next to you.

“You really weren’t joking,” she said after a second. “You can actually see Disney from here.”

“Yeah. Close enough to see it. Not close enough to touch it." She looked thoughtful at that.

“You don’t like it?” you asked.

“I do,” she said quietly. “It’s just… different than what I thought.”

“You say that a lot.”

“Because today is not going how I planned.” You looked at her sideways. “You plan everything?”

“Most things.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

She huffed softly. “It is.”

You studied her for a second, the curls moving slightly in the breeze, the small silver ring in her septum catching the light.

“You don’t have to plan this week,” you said. “I’ll handle it.”

She looked at you. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. I know all the spots around here.”

“Like the abandoned mini golf place?”

“Exactly like that.”

“That sounds illegal.”

“It’s only illegal if you get caught.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling again.

“You’re trouble,” she said.

“You’re still here.”

She didn’t have a comeback for that one.

The sun kept rising. The heat started settling heavier on your shoulders.

“You’re definitely gonna pass out in those jeans,” you said, nudging her side with your elbow.

She glanced down at herself. “I didn’t know Florida would be like this.”

“It’s always like this.”

She sighed. “I should change.”

“You should.”

She pushed off the ledge but didn’t move toward the door yet.

“Hey,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think your motel is disgusting.”

You tilted your head. “That your official statement?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because I would’ve kicked you off the roof.”

She laughed under her breath.

Down below, you could hear Bobby calling your name faintly.

You rolled your eyes. “He’s already looking for me.”

“You’ve been gone like twenty minutes.”

“Exactly.”

You started toward the door. She followed.

As you reached it, she slowed slightly.

“I’m glad we booked the wrong place,” she said, almost casual.

You stopped just enough to look back at her.

“Yeah?” you asked.

She nodded once.

You tried not to smile too hard.

“Good,” you said. “Because you’re stuck here all week.”

The next morning, you knocked on the apartment door twice, then once more just to be annoying.

It opened a few seconds later.

Manon stood there in shorts this time, hair pulled back loosely, still half asleep.

“Good,” you said. “You changed.”

She frowned slightly. “You’re loud.”

“Yeah. Get used to it. Come on, I’m showing you my favorite spots.”

You reached for her hand and pulled her into the hallway before she could argue.

“Wait—” she said, laughing under her breath. “I didn’t even tell my parents.”

“They know you’re with me. I’m trustworthy.”

She gave you a look that said debatable.

You stopped by the outdoor freezer and flipped it open.

“Breakfast?” she asked.

“Obviously.”

You dug around and pulled out two strawberry bars.

“You’re getting strawberry,” you said, handing it to her.

“I thought you said strawberry was yours.”

“It is.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I’m being nice,” you said, shrugging. “Plus I like you.”

She stared at you for a second. “And?”

“And you’re pretty,” you added quickly, suddenly focused on unwrapping your own ice cream.

There was a small pause.

“…Thanks,” she said.

You glanced up. She was looking at you like she was trying to figure you out.

“Don’t make it weird,” you muttered.

“You made it weird.”

You started walking, motioning for her to follow.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Down the strip. There’s stuff you need to see if you’re gonna survive a week here.”

You walked along the cracked sidewalk past souvenir shops with giant plastic wizards and inflatable alligators out front.

Manon looked around at everything. “This is insane.”

“Welcome to tourist central.”

A man in a Mickey costume waved at passing cars even though it was barely 9 a.m.

She leaned closer to you. “Is that even licensed?”

“Definitely not.”

She laughed.

You crossed the street when there were no cars and cut behind a closed gift shop.

“Okay, this one’s important,” you said.

Behind the building was an old mini golf course, faded and half overgrown. The fence had a gap where the metal had bent inward.

“You’re kidding,” she said.

“Nope.”

You slipped through the gap easily and held it open for her.

She hesitated. “This is trespassing.”

“Technically.”

She looked back toward the street.

Then she ducked through.

“See?” you said. “You’re learning.”

The course was quiet. Fake palm trees leaning sideways. A cracked windmill that didn’t move anymore.

You hopped onto one of the low concrete edges of a putting lane and balanced along it.

“So what do we do here?” she asked.

“Nothing. That’s the point.”

She walked slowly across the turf, looking around like she expected someone to jump out.

“You really grew up here,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“And this is fun to you?”

You shrugged. “It’s free.”

She shook her head but smiled again.

You jumped down and walked backward in front of her.

“You ever do anything you’re not supposed to?” you asked.

“Not really.”

“Not even once?”

She thought about it. “I pierced this myself.”

You blinked. “Your septum?”

She nodded.

“Okay. That’s kind of cool.”

She smirked slightly. “See? I’m not boring.”

“I never said you were.”

You stopped walking backward when you almost tripped over a loose brick.

She reached out automatically, grabbing your arm to steady you.

For a second, you were both just standing there.

Her hand was still on you.

“You good?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said, quieter now.

She let go slowly.

“So what’s next?” she asked.

You cleared your throat and pointed toward the far end of the course.

“There’s a spot back there where you can see the fireworks at night without paying.”

Her eyes lit up slightly. “Actually?”

“Yeah. If you’re still not too good for motel life by then.”

She nudged your shoulder lightly. “I never said that.”

“You thought it.”

She didn’t deny it this time.

You started walking again, slower now.

“You know,” she said after a moment, “this is better than waiting in a hotel lobby.”

“Told you.”

She looked at you from the side. “You’re very confident.”

“I have to be. I live here.”

She didn’t joke back.

Instead she said, “I’m glad you knocked on the door this morning.”

You tried not to look too pleased.

“Yeah,” you said casually. “Me too.”

Her phone started ringing.

She checked the screen. “It’s my mom.”

You made a face. “Uh oh.”

She answered and turned slightly away, but not enough that you couldn’t hear the tone of her voice.

“Hallo?” she said.

A pause.

“Ja. Ich bin mit der Tochter des Managers.”

(Yes. Im with the manager’s daughter)

Another pause.

“Nein, nein, mir geht’s gut. Sie ist wirklich nett.”

(No, no, we’re fine. She’s really nice)

She listened again, nodding slightly. “Ja. Wir sind nur in der Nähe. Ich komme später zurück.”

(Yes. We’re just in the neighborhood. I’ll be back later)

Another pause.

“Okay. Tschüss.”

(ok. bye)

She hung up and slipped her phone back into her pocket.

“So,” you said. “What was that?”

“She wanted to know where I was.”

“And?”

“I told her I’m with the manager’s daughter.”

“Wow. So formal.”

“She asked if I was safe.”

“And you said?”

She looked at you for a second, then shrugged lightly. “I said I’m fine. That you’re really nice.”

You tried not to smile too much. “Really nice?”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

She rolled her eyes.

“She worries,” Manon added, quieter. “We don’t usually just… wander off in random places.”

“This isn’t random,” you said. “It’s my spot.”

She looked around the abandoned course again.

“It still feels random,” she said.

You stepped closer, lowering your voice like you were sharing something important.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to get used to it.”

She didn’t step back this time.

For a second, it was just the two of you standing there in the middle of cracked fake grass and chipped plastic palm trees.

“You always this forward?” she asked.

“Only when I mean it.”

She held your gaze for a beat longer than before.

Then she looked away first.

“What’s after this?” she asked.

You nodded toward the back fence. “There’s a shortcut to a lake behind here. Not pretty. But it’s quiet.”

She hesitated only a second.

“Okay,” she said.

You grinned. “See? You’re already breaking rules.”

She bumped your shoulder lightly as you walked past her.

“Only small ones,” she said.

“Give it time,” you replied.

You pushed through the broken part of the fence and followed the dirt path behind the mini golf course. It wasn’t paved, just flattened grass and patches of sand.

Manon stayed close behind you.

“Are you sure this is safe?” she asked.

“It’s fine,” you said. “I’ve been coming back here for years.”

The path opened up to a wide field. A wire fence stretched across it, and beyond that…

Cows.

Just standing there. Eating. Moving slow in the heat.

Manon blinked. “There are cows.”

“Yeah,” you said, walking up to the fence. “I like to look at them.”

She stepped up beside you. “This is your favorite spot?”

“One of them.”

The huge tree next to the fence gave enough shade to make it tolerable. You sat down at its base, leaning your back against the trunk.

She hesitated before sitting next to you.

“They don’t really do anything,” she said, watching one flick its tail.

“That’s the point.”

She glanced at you.

“Everything around here is loud,” you continued. “Tourists, cars, music from the gift shops. Back here it’s just… this.”

A cow lifted its head and stared in your direction.

“You named them?” she asked.

“Obviously.”

She looked at you.

“I haven’t,” you admitted. “But I could.”

She let out a small laugh.

The breeze shifted slightly, carrying the smell of grass and dirt.

“This is weirdly peaceful,” she said.

“Told you.”

She pulled her knees up slightly, resting her arms over them.

“In Switzerland we don’t have this,” she said.

“You don’t have cows?”

“We do. Just not… behind motels.”

You grinned. “Florida’s special.”

She studied your face for a second.

“You really love it here,” she said again.

You shrugged. “I love parts of it.”

“Like cows.”

“Like cows.”

There was a quiet stretch where neither of you talked. Just the sound of insects and distant traffic.

“You don’t ever feel stuck?” she asked suddenly.

You thought about it before answering.

“Sometimes,” you said honestly. “But stuck doesn’t mean miserable.”

She nodded slowly.

“I move a lot,” she said. “New places all the time. New schools. New people.”

“That sounds worse.”

“It is.”

You bumped your shoulder against hers lightly. “Then for one week, you don’t have to move.”

She looked at you.

“You’re just stuck with me,” you added.

She smiled faintly. “I’m starting to think that’s not so bad.”

You looked out at the cows again so she wouldn’t see how that hit.

“Yeah,” you said casually. “You’ll survive.”

One of the cows let out a low, lazy sound.

Manon laughed quietly. “I can’t believe this is what you chose to show me.”

“You thought I was gonna take you to Disney?”

She glanced toward the distant skyline barely visible past the trees.

“I thought maybe.”

You shook your head. “Everybody goes there. Not everybody comes here.”

She leaned back against the tree, her arm brushing yours.

“You’re different,” she said.

“You just figured that out?”

She smiled a little. “I noticed yesterday.”

You turned your head slightly to look at her.

“And you’re not as dramatic as I thought,” you said.

“Oh?”

“Still dramatic. Just less.”

She nudged you with her knee.

You both sat there under the tree, watching cows that didn’t care about either of you.

“I wanna go to Switzerland,” you said quietly.You didn’t even mean to say it out loud.

Manon turned her head toward you.

“What?” she asked, a small smile forming.

You blinked. “Nothing.”

“You just said you want to go to Switzerland.”

You looked back out at the field. “Yeah. I mean… I do.”

Her smile grew a little. Her eyes widened slightly, like she wasn’t expecting that.

“Why?” she asked.

You shrugged. “I’ve never been out of the country. Never even been on a plane.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Florida’s expensive enough.”

She studied you for a second.

“What do you think it’s like?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Cold. Clean. Probably no abandoned mini golf courses.”

She laughed softly. “We have mountains. Lakes. It’s quiet in a different way.”

“Different how?”

“Not… flat,” she said, glancing at the field. “You can see forever here. In Switzerland, you look up and there’s something bigger than you right there.”

You pictured it for a second.

“Sounds fake,” you said.

“It’s not.”

“You have cows too, right?”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Are they better than Florida cows?”

“They’re Swiss cows.”

“That didn’t answer the question.”

She laughed again, shaking her head.

“You could come,” she said casually.

You looked at her immediately. “What?”

“I mean, not like tomorrow,” she clarified quickly. “But someday.”

You tried to play it off. “Yeah? You invite all the motel girls back home?”

“Just the manager’s daughter,” she said.

You looked down at your hands so she wouldn’t see how hard you were trying not to smile.

“I don’t even have a passport,” you muttered.

“You can get one.”

“Yeah, with what money?”

She hesitated.

“You could save,” she said.

You glanced at her. “You’ve known me for like… a day.”

“Two,” she corrected.

“Two days.”

“And?”

“And you’re already planning my international travel?”

She shrugged lightly. “You said you want to go.”

You were quiet for a second.

“I do,” you admitted. “I just never thought about it like it could actually happen.”

She leaned back against the tree again.

“It could,” she said simply.

You looked at her profile, the way the sunlight caught in her curls, the small silver ring in her nose.

“You’d show me around?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“No tourist traps?”

She smirked. “Maybe one.”

“Unbelievable.”

She bumped your shoulder lightly.

“You showed me your cows,” she said. “It’s only fair.”

You both looked out at the field again.

After a second, she spoke softer.

“I like that you said that.”

“Said what?”

“That you want to go.”

You swallowed slightly. “Why?”

“Because most people who live in Florida don’t exactly want to leave, especially if there’s Walt Disney.”

You shrugged. “Disney’s right there. Switzerland’s far.”

“And you still said it.”

You didn’t answer that.

A cow wandered closer to the fence, staring at both of you.

“You think they ever want to leave?” she asked suddenly.

“The cows?”

“Yeah.”

You thought about it.

“Maybe,” you said. “But they don’t look stressed.”

She smiled faintly at that.

“You don’t look stressed either,” she said.

“Give it time.”

She laughed quietly.

The breeze shifted again, brushing her arm against yours.

“You’d like Switzerland,” she said after a moment. “It’s colder. You’d complain.”

“I would.”

“But you’d like it.”

You glanced at her.

“Only if you’re there,” you said before you could stop yourself.

There was a small pause.

Her eyes met yours again, softer this time.

“I would be,” she said.

“You’re cool,” you said.

You could feel your face getting hot and hoped she wouldn’t notice.

She did.

“You are too,” she said.

You looked down at the grass. “I haven’t really had friends who were girls.”

She tilted her head. “Really?”

“Yeah. Mostly just people who hang around the motel. It’s different.”

She watched you for a second.

“Well,” she said, small smile forming, “I’m happy to be the first one.”

That made you grin.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was a quiet second before she shifted, studying you again.

“So,” she said, “do you have any piercings?”

You blinked. “Obviously my ears.”

She waited.

“Um. My belly button and…” you trailed off on purpose.

“And?” she pushed, laughing lightly.

You looked at her like you were debating whether to say it.

“My nipples.”

Her eyes widened. “No way.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

She stared at you like she was trying to figure out if you were serious.

“I got them when I was fifteen,” you added. “Dad didn’t know. Still doesn’t.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly. “How did you even—”

“Friend of a friend,” you said quickly. “Don’t ask.”

She shook her head, half impressed, half shocked. “You are insane.”

“Relax. They healed fine.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You asked.”

She laughed, covering her mouth for a second.

“I cannot believe you just said that so casually.”

“What? It’s just piercings.”

“At fifteen.”

You shrugged. “I was bored.”

She studied you again, something different in her expression now.

“You’re braver than me,” she said.

“You pierced your own septum.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“It’s visible,” she said.

“Exactly.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

“You always this honest?” she asked.

“Only when I feel like it.”

She leaned back against the tree again.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you,” she said.

“Good or bad?”

She thought about it.

“Good,” she decided.

You looked out at the cows again, trying to act normal even though your chest felt tight in a weird way.

“So what about you?” you asked. “Just the septum?”

“Ears. Septum. That’s it.”

“No secret ones?”

She looked at you flatly. “No.”

“Boring.”

She nudged you with her shoulder. “I prefer safe.”

“Safe’s overrated.”

She glanced at you. “Says the girl sneaking people into abandoned mini golf courses.”

“Exactly.”

There was a comfortable quiet after that.

Then she said, softer, “You trust me a lot.”

“With what?”

“With… that.” She gestured vaguely.

You shrugged. “You’re not from here. Who you gonna tell?”

She smiled slightly. “Fair.”

Another cow wandered closer to the fence again.

“You’re really not embarrassed?” she asked.

“About what?”

“Anything you just said.”

You thought about it.

“No.”

She watched you carefully.

“I think that’s cool,” she said.

Your face heated up again.

“You gotta stop calling me cool,” you muttered.

“Why?”

“Because then I start acting weird.”

She laughed quietly.

“You’re already weird,” she said.

You looked at her.

“Yeah,” you said, “But you like my weird.”

She held your gaze.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I do.”

The sky started turning orange behind the field, the heat finally easing up a little.

Manon checked her phone again.

“I should probably go,” she said quietly.

You nodded once. “Yeah.”

“My mom’s already texted twice.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

She stood first, brushing grass off the back of her shorts. You followed a second later.

Neither of you moved toward the path right away.

“It got late fast,” she said.

“It always does here.”

You both started walking back through the dirt path, slower than before.

When you slipped back through the fence, she paused.

“My mom worries,” she said again, like she felt the need to explain it.

“It’s fine,” you said. “You’re new here.”

“It’s not just that.”

You looked at her.

“She just… likes to know where I am.”

You shrugged. “My dad’s the opposite. He just yells my name and hopes I answer.”

She smiled faintly.

You walked back toward the motel. The neon sign flickered on as you got closer.

For a second, you both stopped near the stairs that led up to the apartment.

“So,” you said, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Same time tomorrow?”

She looked at you like she was pretending to think about it.

“Maybe,” she said.

“Wow. Harsh.”

She laughed softly.

“I’ll text you,” she added.

“You have my number?”

She held up her phone. “Your dad made us fill out paperwork.”

“Oh. Right.”

There was another small pause.

“Today was…” she started, then stopped.

“What?”

“Different.”

“Different’s not bad,” you said.

She looked at you like she remembered you saying that before.

“No,” she agreed. “It’s not.”

The motel lights buzzed faintly overhead.

“I’m glad my dad booked the wrong hotel,” she said again.

You tried not to smile too hard. “Yeah. Me too.”

She stepped backward toward the stairs.

“Goodnight, y/n.”

“Night, Manon.”

She turned and went up the stairs, disappearing around the corner.

You stayed there a second longer than you needed to.

You were sitting on the curb outside the lobby while Bobby locked up for the night. He’d brought you a styrofoam plate from the diner down the road.

Strawberry pancakes. Extra syrup.

“Their daughter’s cool,” you said casually, cutting into the pancake like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Yeah?” Bobby asked, not looking up as he checked the door twice.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “I like her.”

You kept your head down so he wouldn’t see you smiling.

He finally glanced over at you. “That so?”

You took a bite, chewing slowly. “She’s just… different.”

“Different good or different trouble?”

“Good,” you said quickly.

He hummed. “You show her the roof?”

“Maybe.”

“Y/n.”

“What? I didn’t push her off.”

He shook his head, but there was a hint of a smile there.

“She’s polite,” he said. “Her dad seems decent too. Just stressed.”

“They booked the wrong hotel,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I know.”

You scraped syrup around your plate with your fork.

“She’s from Switzerland,” you added.

“Switzerland, huh?” Bobby leaned against the railing. “That’s far.”

“Yeah.”

He studied you for a second. “You thinking about going?”

You froze for half a second. “What? No.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t say you were.”

You rolled your eyes. “I just said it’s far.”

He nodded slowly, like he didn’t fully believe you but wasn’t gonna push it.

“You’re smiling,” he pointed out.

“I’m eating pancakes.”

“That’s not why.”

You tried to keep your face neutral. Failed.

“She’s just cool,” you repeated. “We hung out by the cows.”

He blinked. “The cows?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course you did.”

You grinned.

He crossed his arms. “You be careful.”

“Of what?”

“Getting attached.”

You frowned slightly. “She’s here for a week.”

“Exactly.”

You poked at your pancake again.

“I know,” you muttered.

He softened a little. “It’s okay to like people, kid.”

“I know.”

“Just don’t forget they might leave.”

You swallowed.

“I won’t,” you said.

He gave you a look that said he hoped that was true.

After a second he ruffled your hair lightly.

“Finish your food,” he said. “Then come help me with the ice machine.”

You groaned. “Why do I gotta help?”

“Because you’re eighteen now.”

“Worst age ever.”

He laughed under his breath and headed toward the back.

You sat there another minute, staring at the apartment balcony across the way.

The light was still on.

You smiled to yourself again.

“Yeah,” you murmured quietly, taking another bite. “She’s cool.”

“Are we allowed to be in here?” Manon asked quietly, looking around at the breakfast buffet.

The lobby was way nicer than your motel’s. Marble floors. Big windows. Soft music playing somewhere.

“Yeah,” you said casually. “The manager knows my dad. I get a discount.”

She looked at you. “That doesn’t sound like a yes.”

“It’s basically a yes.”

“Y/n.”

“Relax. We’re not stealing. We’re paying. Just… less.”

She still looked unsure as you grabbed two plates from the stack.

“Come on,” you said. “You’ve never had hotel buffet food?”

“Not like this.”

You started piling food onto your plate, eggs, waffles, fruit, bacon without asking.

“You eat like you’ve never seen food before,” she said.

“It’s unlimited,” you replied. “That’s the point.”

She shook her head but started serving herself too, more careful. A little fruit. One waffle.

“That’s it?” you asked.

“I don’t eat that much in the morning.”

“Couldn’t be me.”

You both sat at a small table near the window.

She looked around again. “If someone asks—”

“No one’s gonna ask.”

“Still.”

“If someone asks, you’re my cousin.”

She paused. “From?”

You thought for a second. “New York.”

“You don’t even live in New York.”

“I’ve met people who do.”

She gave you a look but didn’t argue further.

You took a big bite of waffle and leaned back in your chair.

“So,” you said. “How’s motel life treating you?”

“It’s fine,” she admitted. “The apartment’s actually nice.”

“Told you.”

“My sister still complains.”

“She looks like she would.”

Manon smiled slightly.

“You bring people here a lot?” she asked.

“To the buffet? No. You’re special.”

“You keep saying things like that.”

“And?”

“And you don’t sound like you’re joking.”

You looked down at your plate for a second.

“Maybe I’m not,” you said.

She held your gaze a little longer this time.

“You’re very direct,” she said.

“Better than pretending.”

She nodded slowly.

A server walked by, and you both went quiet for a second until he passed.

Manon leaned in slightly. “This feels illegal.”

“It’s not illegal,” you whispered back. “It’s networking.”

She laughed under her breath.

You watched her for a second while she cut her waffle neatly.

“What?” she asked without looking up.

“Nothing.”

“You’re staring again.”

“You noticed?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t look away this time.

“You look different when you’re not stressed,” you said.

She paused, then glanced up at you.

“Different how?”

“Less tense.”

“That’s not very romantic.”

“I wasn’t trying to be romantic.”

She smiled slightly. “Good.”

You both ate in a quieter rhythm after that.

After a minute she said, “My dad wants to actually go to Disney tomorrow. Since we’re here.”

“Of course he does.”

“Do you want to come?”

You blinked. “Me?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve already been.”

“So?”

You shrugged. “Tickets are expensive.”

“My dad would—”

“No,” you cut in quickly. “I’m not letting your dad pay for me.”

She looked at you carefully. “Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

You leaned back again. “I don’t wanna feel like a charity case.”

Her expression softened slightly.

“It wouldn’t be that,” she said.

“Yeah. It would.”

She didn’t argue right away.

“Okay,” she said finally. “Then don’t come for Disney.”

"Wow."

“But,” she continued, “after. When we leave. We could meet somewhere.”

You considered that.

“Maybe,” you said.

She smiled faintly. “You’re difficult.”

“And you’re stubborn.”

“True.”

You both finished your plates.

As you stood up, she looked around one more time.

“I can’t believe we just did this,” she said.

You grinned. “And nothing bad happened.”

“Yet.”

“Have a little faith.”

She shook her head, but she was smiling again as you both walked out of the fancy lobby and back into the Florida heat.

You waited all day on the curb, for Manon, to see her.

Her eyes lit up once she stepped out of the car and saw you.

The neon sign buzzed softly overhead.

“Mami, darf i hut Nacht in ihrem Zimmer schloofe?” Manon asked, turning to her mom before you could even process what she was saying.

(Mom, can I sleep in her room tonight?)

Her mom looked at her, then at you.

“Ja, aber vergiss nicht, deine Zahnbürste und deinen Schlafanzug mitzubringen.”

(Yes, but don’t forget to bring your toothbrush and your pajamas)

Manon’s face lit up. “Danke.”

Before you could react, she grabbed your hand. “Come on.”

“What are you doing?” you asked, half laughing as she pulled you toward the stairs.

“I’m sleeping over at yours tonight,” she said like it was obvious.

“You literally have a room upstairs.”

“So do you.”

You stopped at the bottom of the staircase. “Manon. My place is small.”

She looked at you. “So is ours.”

“You’re gonna regret this,” you muttered as you unlocked your door.

She stepped inside and looked around like she hadn’t already seen it before. “It’s cute.”

“It’s normal.”

“It’s yours,” she corrected.

You rolled your eyes and shut the door behind her. She dropped her overnight bag on the chair and kicked off her shoes.

“Your bed is small,” she noted.

“Yeah.”

She smiled. “Good thing I don’t take up much space.”

“You move a lot when you sleep, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

You sighed, grabbing an extra pillow from the closet. “If you steal the blanket, I’m kicking you out.”

“You wouldn’t.”

You paused. She was right.

She disappeared into the bathroom to change, and you sat on the edge of your bed, suddenly aware of how small the room actually felt.

When she came back out in her pajamas, toothbrush still in hand, she looked way too comfortable.

“Move,” she said, nudging your leg.

You slid over. She climbed in beside you like she’d done it a hundred times before.

For a second, you both just lay there, staring at the ceiling. The motel walls were thin, you could hear faint footsteps from upstairs, a TV playing somewhere down the row.

“This is kinda stupid,” you said quietly.

“Why?”

“I see you every day.”

“Not like this.”

You turned your head slightly to look at her. She was already looking at you. The room felt smaller now. Warmer.

She scooted a little closer, like it was natural. Like it didn’t mean anything.

You turned off the main lamp, leaving only the small bedside light on.

“What are we watching?” you asked.

“We’re not watching. We’re scrolling.”

"That's worse."

She ignored you, scooting closer so you could see the screen too. Your shoulders touched. Then your arms. Neither of you moved.

She started showing you random videos, dumb pranks, edits, some travel vlog from Switzerland.

You noticed. “You did that on purpose.”

She looked innocent. “Did what?”

“You’re still on that.”

She shrugged. “You said you wanna go.”

“I do.”

“Then we will.”

You snorted. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is,” she said simply. “We’ll just go.”

You looked at her. “You can’t just ‘we’ll just go’ everything.”

She tilted her head. “Why not?”

You didn’t have an answer.

She locked her phone after a while and set it on the nightstand. The room got quieter without the sound.

“You’re thinking again,” she said.

“You say that like it’s a crime.”

“It kind of is.”

You lay there, staring at the ceiling. “You’re not cold?”

“No.”

“Because I’m not giving you the whole blanket.”

She huffed a laugh and tugged it slightly anyway. “You’re dramatic.”

You turned onto your side, facing her. She was already on her side, facing you.

It was quiet. Close. The space between you felt smaller than the bed actually was.

“You’re different here,” she said softly.

“Here?”

“Yeah. Not in front of everyone.”

You swallowed. “Is that bad?”

She shook her head. “No. I like it.”

Your face warmed again.

“You blush a lot,” she added.

“Go to sleep.”

She smiled and shifted closer, her arm lightly brushing yours under the blanket.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

“Yeah. Night.”

Neither of you fell asleep right away.

“Can’t believe you’re leaving me. For dumb Switzerland,” you said, sitting on one of the wooden bench tables outside the motel.

She stood in front of you, suitcase by her feet.

“You know I live there, right?” she said, smiling.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but you don’t have to go back.”

“I kind of do.”

You looked down at your hands. “Still dumb.”

She stepped a little closer. “You liked hearing about it two days ago.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

“You weren’t leaving yet.”

There was a small pause. The parking lot felt bigger than usual. Quieter.

“My mom already thinks you’re dramatic,” she said lightly.

“I’m not dramatic.”

“You’re sitting on a picnic table like you’re in a breakup scene.”

You huffed. “Shut up.”

She laughed softly, then sat beside you. Close enough that your legs touched.

“I’m not disappearing,” she said. “It’s not like I won’t text.”

“Time zones.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“It’s bad enough.”

She leaned back on her hands, looking up at the sky. “You could visit.”

You glanced at her. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“You say everything’s hard.”

You nudged her shoulder with yours. “You make everything sound easy.”

“Maybe it is.”

You didn’t respond.

After a second, she nudged you back. “You’re not getting rid of me that fast.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Good.”

You finally looked at her properly. “You better not forget about me.”

She smiled, but this time it was softer. “I won’t.”

“You promise?”

“I know you enough,” she said quietly. “I’m not forgetting you.”

Your chest felt tight in a way you didn’t want to admit.

“Switzerland’s still dumb,” you muttered.

She laughed under her breath. “You’re gonna love it when you come.”

You tried not to smile.

“Whatever.”

She bumped her knee into yours again.

“I’ll call you when I land,” she said.

“You better.”

“I will.”

And neither of you moved from that bench for a while.

“Can we go back to the trees where the cows are?” Manon asked quietly.

You looked at her. The suitcases were already in the trunk. Her mom was talking to someone near the office. You didn’t have much time.

“Now?” you asked.

“Just for a minute.”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Okay. Come on.”

You led her around the side of the motel, past the gravel path and toward the open field behind it.

She let out a small breath like she’d been holding it in.

“I like it here,” she said.

“I know.”

You both walked to the base of the tree and sat down like you had before. This time, closer.

“It’s quieter than Switzerland,” you said.

She smiled. “Switzerland’s not loud.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, you just watched the cows. One of them flicked its tail. Another shifted its weight.

“You were less mad at Switzerland here,” she said.

“I wasn’t mad.”

“You were.”

You didn’t argue this time.

“I’m gonna miss this,” she admitted.

“The cows?”

“You.”

Your chest tightened again.

“You’re acting like you’re never coming back,” you said.

“I will. I just don’t know when.”

You picked at the grass. “That’s worse.”

She leaned her shoulder into yours. “You hate not knowing.”

“Yeah.”

She was quiet for a second, then said, “When I come back, we’ll sit here again.”

You glanced at her. “You’re that sure?”

“Yes.”

You watched her for a second longer than you meant to. Wind moved lightly through her curls.

“You better,” you said.

She smiled. “I will.”

Somewhere in the distance, her mom called her name.

Manon didn’t get up right away.

So you both stayed there, under the big tree, watching the cows like nothing was about to change.

The first drop hit your arm.

Then suddenly it wasn’t a drizzle anymore , it was heavy. Fast. Loud against the grass and dirt and leaves above you.

“Oh—” you started.

Within seconds, the sky opened up. Rain poured down, soaking through your shirt, flattening Manon’s curls against her cheeks.

You both scrambled up instinctively, laughing in shock.

“We should run,” you said.

But neither of you moved.

Manon pushed wet hair out of her eyes and started laughing. You should’ve gone back.

But she was standing there in the pouring rain, looking at you like this was perfect timing.

Rain slid down her face. Without thinking, you reached up and wiped it away with your thumb. Her laughter faded.

“You’re really leaving,” you said.

“Yeah.”

"You better call.”

“I will.”

“You better come back.”

“I will.”

“You better not forget me.”

Her expression softened. “I won’t.”

She stepped closer, close enough that you could feel her warmth even through wet fabric.

"You talk like I’m gone forever.”

“It feels like it.”

Her hand lifted, hesitated, then rested against your jaw. You stopped breathing.

“You’re not getting rid of me,” she whispered.

You leaned in. She met you halfway.

The kiss was warm despite the rain, quick breaths, shaky hands, everything unspoken in between.

Under the tree, you kissed her like Switzerland didn’t exist.