Embers of Us

Unexpected Crossroads

The afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the streets as Lexi navigated through town. She had been running errands most of the day, trying to make the most of her limited free time. Her thoughts wandered back to the yard earlier in the week and that brief encounter with Ethan. It had caught her off guard, stirring up memories she had thought were long buried.

Spotting a quiet coffee shop tucked away from the main road, she decided a short break was in order. The shop was one of those hidden gems—small, cozy, and never too crowded, making it the perfect place to take a breather. She parked her car and stepped out, adjusting her shirt and checking her phone out of habit before heading toward the entrance.

Just as she reached for the door, a familiar figure emerged, a coffee cup in one hand and a phone in the other. Lexi's breath caught in her throat as Ethan glanced up, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Lexi?" he asked, recovering first. His tone carried a mix of shock and curiosity, as if he wasn't quite sure if he was really seeing her.

"Ethan," she replied, a hint of a smile forming despite the flutter of nerves in her stomach. "Didn't expect to run into you here."

He let out a soft laugh, glancing at his coffee before looking back at her. "Yeah, same. I come here when I need a break from the shop. Never thought I'd run into you around here. You still living in town?"

"Something like that," she said, shrugging. "I've been back for a while, just trying to figure things out. What about you?"

He nodded, shoving his free hand into his pocket. "Still around. Working at a garage, fixing bikes and cars mostly. Life hasn't exactly gone the way I planned, but I'm getting by."

"Yeah, I get that," she replied, feeling a sudden rush of old memories. It was strange, standing there, having such a casual conversation with someone who had once meant so much to her. The silence that followed was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and the murmur of customers inside the coffee shop.

"Want to grab a coffee?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of hopefulness. "Unless you were about to leave?"

Lexi hesitated for a moment. It had been years since they'd been alone together, and part of her was tempted to keep it that way. But something urged her to say yes—maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the comfort of familiarity she hadn't realized she missed.

"Sure," she said, managing a small smile. "I could use a break."

They walked into the shop together, the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods washing over them. Lexi placed her order for an iced latte, while Ethan leaned against the counter, casually sipping his own coffee. When she finished, they found a table near the window and sat down.

"So," he began, tapping his fingers lightly on the edge of his cup. "What have you been up to? It's been, what, almost ten years?"

"Yeah, about that long," she replied, taking a sip of her drink. "Got out of the Navy a couple of years ago. Now I'm just... you know, figuring things out. What about you? Still into bikes?"

"Always," he said, his face lighting up slightly. "I work on them all day. I've even got a few projects of my own. It's one of the things that keeps me sane, I guess."

She nodded, a faint smile crossing her lips. "I remember you used to talk about bikes nonstop back in high school."

"Not much has changed," he admitted with a chuckle. "Still the same guy, just with more broken parts to fix."

The conversation lapsed into silence, not awkward but rather contemplative, as if they were both lost in memories of their past. Ethan shifted in his seat, looking down at his phone, seemingly debating something.

"Are you on Shuttergram?" she asked, referring to the popular social media app everyone used. "It's probably the easiest way to keep in touch, you know, if you're into that sort of thing."

"Yeah, I'm on there," he replied, a bit more relaxed now. "Don't post much, but I do use it. My handle's 'ThrottleHead.' It's mostly bike stuff, so you've been warned."

Lexi let out a short laugh. "Of course, it is," she said, pulling out her phone. "Let me look you up."

She typed in his username, and his profile popped up almost immediately. His profile picture was of him sitting on his motorcycle, helmet in hand, with a sunset in the background. She hit the "Follow" button and looked up at him. "Got it. Now you just have to find me."

He nodded, taking out his phone. "Okay, what's yours?"

"It's 'Lex_Rising,'" she replied, a touch of nervousness creeping into her voice. She watched him type it in, wondering what he would think of her profile. When her account appeared on his screen, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow slightly. Her profile picture was a beach shot, with the sun setting behind her, casting a glow over her face as she stared into the horizon.

"Nice picture," he commented as he hit the "Follow" button. "Seems fitting."

"Thanks," she said, glancing away briefly. "I took it a while back."

They sat there for a few more minutes, sipping their drinks and making small talk. The initial tension that had lingered between them gradually eased, replaced by a sense of familiarity and the comfort of shared history. It felt strange but nice, like revisiting a place she used to know.

"Well," she said finally, placing her cup down as she stood up. "It was nice seeing you, Ethan."

"You too, Lexi," he replied, a genuine smile on his face. "We should catch up again sometime. For real, I mean."

"Maybe," she answered, leaving the response intentionally vague as she moved toward the door. Stepping outside, she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin and breathed in the afternoon air. Out of habit, she glanced at her phone, noticing the notification: ThrottleHead followed you. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Guess we're connected again, she thought.

Ethan watched her walk to her car, his hands in his pockets. He glanced down at his phone, seeing the notification confirming he was now following her on Shuttergram. The encounter had been unexpected, but in some way, it felt right, like a piece of the past slipping back into place.

Turning toward his truck, he felt lighter, as if some of the weight he'd been carrying had lifted. One small step back into each other's lives. With that thought, he climbed into the truck and started the engine, casting one last glance at his phone before tucking it away.

"One small step," he mused, steering his truck back into traffic.