I didn’t know if walking into Bubble Dreams was an escape or an extension of my current predicant. Either way, I needed those drinks before heading to Valentine Manor for Cassidy’s tutoring session and Sabrina’s ran delivery.
The bell chid as I pushed open the door, and I was t with blessed emptiness—no line, no high school students taking selfies with rainbow-colored drinks, just Mira behind the counter looking bored while studying what appeared to be another calculus textbook.
"Look what the cat dragged in," she said, glancing up with a smile that brightened her whole face. "Let guess: taro milk tea, less sugar, extra pearls for soone fancy, and strawberry milk tea with lychee jelly for soone cute and pink?"
I raised an eyebrow. "You morized the entire order?"
"Pretty boy with nice hands cos in regularly to buy boba for rich employers? Yeah, I’m gonna rember that." She closed her textbook. "You look like garbage today."
"Thanks."
"I an, hot garbage. The kind people would still pick up."
"Your complints need work."
She laughed and started preparing the drinks without even placing the order. "Rough day with the fancy people?"
I slumped against the counter. "Rough weekend."
"Ah, one of those." She popped the lid on a cup and began shaking the contents. "Spicy ran packet too?"
"Two, please."
She set the shaker down and studied my face. "You know what? Sit down."
"I need to—"
"Sit. Down." She pointed to a small table near the window. "The store is dead, and I’m making myself a drink. I’ll join you for five minutes."
It was a bad idea. I had approximately forty-seven minutes to pick up these drinks, drive to Valentine Manor, and begin Cassidy’s tutoring session. But Mira was already making a third drink, and honestly, a five-minute break from Valentine chaos sounded like salvation.
I slid into the chair and checked my phone. Three new ssages—one from Vivienne asking about a revised schedule, one from Harlow containing only heart emojis, and one from Sabrina saying: I assu you’ll be on ti. Nothing from Cassidy.
"Here we go." Mira set down two drinks and plopped into the seat opposite . "One for , one for you. On the house."
"You don’t have to—"
"Consider it paynt for helping with a problem." She pulled out a notebook. "I have another calculus test tomorrow, and I’m stuck on these integrals. If you’re half as good as last ti..."
The distraction was exactly what I needed. For the next ten minutes, I forgot about Valentine drama and focused on explaining u-substitution to Mira, who nodded along and occasionally cursed under her breath when she realized her mistakes.
"And that’s why you need to rember the constant," I finished, pointing to the final solution.
"Holy crap," she breathed, staring at the page. "That makes so much sense. My professor spends forty minutes rambling about theory and never once explained it like that."
Before I could respond, she launched herself across the table and wrapped her arms around in a tight hug.
"You’re a lifesaver," she said into my shoulder.
"It’s just calculus."
"It’s a forty percent chunk of my grade." She pulled back, still beaming. "I’d kiss you if I thought you’d let ."
The word "kiss" sent my brain into an imdiate tailspin. I must have made a face because Mira’s smile dropped.
"I’m kidding! Sorry, I get too friendly sotis. My roommate says I need boundaries."
"It’s not that," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "It’s just... strange timing."
She tilted her head. "What’s strange about it?"
I hesitated. Mira represented the closest thing to an impartial party in this entire situation. She knew nothing about the Valentines, nothing about my job beyond the fact that I worked for rich people, and she had no stake in whatever mind gas the sisters were playing.
"Can I ask you sothing hypothetical?"
"Sure." She sipped her drink. "I love hypotheticals."
"What would you do if soone you knew just... kissed you? I’m asking for a friend."
Mira paused mid-sip, eyes widening slightly. She set her drink down carefully. "That depends. Does your ’friend’ like this person?"
"I don’t know."
"They don’t know if they liked the kiss?"
"They don’t know who kissed them."
Mira’s eyebrows shot up. "Excuse ?"
I sighed. "It’s complicated."
"No kidding." She leaned forward. "How do you not know who kissed you? I an, your friend. How does your friend not know who kissed them?"
"Let’s say, hypothetically, there are multiple people who look exactly the sa."
"Twins?"
"Sothing like that."
Mira let out a low whistle. "That’s so soap opera stuff right there. Was it a good kiss at least?"
The mory of those three seconds on the mansion steps flickered through my mind—soft lips, strawberry scent, the hand gripping my lapel.
"Yes," I admitted. "It was... unexpected, but good."
"And these identical people... are they friends? Coworkers? Random strangers who corner you in dark alleys?"
"Technically employers."
"Oh." Mira sat back. "Oh. That’s... complicated."
"You said that already."
"It bears repeating." She took another sip of her drink, thinking. "Look, I kiss my friends all the ti. It’s not a big deal."
"You do?"
"Sure. College is weird like that. Sotis with tongue, even. It’s not a thing."
"That sounds like a thing."
She waved her hand dismissively. "The point is, kisses can an different things. So are just friendly. So are drunk mistakes. So are ’I’ve been in love with you for five years and finally got the courage.’" She tilted her head. "The context matters. And in your case, the person matters too."
"That’s the problem. I don’t know which person it was."
"No, I an—do you like any of them? Like, if you found out it was Twin A instead of Twin B, would you be disappointed?"
I hadn’t even considered that angle. Did I have a preference? If I discovered that Harlow had kissed , would I feel differently than if it were Cassidy? Or Vivienne? Or Sabrina?
The answer should have been obvious: they were my employers, and I shouldn’t want any of them to kiss . But sitting there across from Mira, with the taste of boba on my tongue and the mory of strawberry perfu in my mind, I couldn’t honestly say that was true.
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