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Two years had passed since Max Goof's big X Games win, and his superstition was still going strong. He’d won thanks to his rituals, his lucky socks, the way he tied his skate shoes, and—most importantly—his caramel latte with two pumps of hazelnut.
It had been his good-luck charm, his secret weapon. And when he walked into a new, cozy cafe on the edge of campus, it felt like fate calling him back to that familiar, comforting routine.
“Caramel latte, two pumps hazelnut,” he ordered at the counter, slipping off his backpack and digging for his wallet.
“Coming right up,” the barista behind the counter replied, her voice light and friendly.
Max looked up to give her a quick nod, but something in her smile made him pause. She wasn’t anything like the baristas he was used to—there was a kind of warmth and quiet confidence in her gaze that pulled him in. But, still, it was just another coffee shop, just another coffee. He’d been through this a hundred times.
As he waited, his mind wandered back to the X Games. It felt like a lifetime ago. He wondered what everyone was up to now. His mind briefly flickered to Bradley Uppercrust III—the guy who had always been his rival. That arrogant, spoiled kid had disappeared after the competition, leaving Max with a mix of confusion and lingering curiosity. He hadn’t seen or heard from Bradley since.
“Here you go,” the barista said, snapping him out of his thoughts as she slid the cup toward him. Max smiled.
“Thanks,” he said, taking the latte.
The barista gave him a small nod, but there was something in the way she looked at him—something familiar. A weird sense of déjà vu washed over him as he took the first sip. His eyes widened. It was perfect. In fact, it might have been the best latte he’d ever had. The familiar warmth settled in his chest, the same comfort he’d felt when he first tasted this drink during his X Games preparation.
But there was something else. The taste felt… different. Like it was made by someone who truly understood how to balance each ingredient just right.
“Man, this is incredible,” he said without thinking. “I swear, this might be even luckier than my usual spot.”
The barista smiled, a soft, almost knowing expression flickering across her face. But she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned to another order behind the counter, leaving Max to his musings.
He took another sip, his mind still buzzing with curiosity. Something about the way she’d handed him the cup made him pause. That smile... It was too familiar. His brain was working overtime trying to piece it together.
He brushed it off. Maybe it was just a fluke. He had been pretty superstitious lately, but it didn’t mean everything had to be tied to some cosmic sign. But as he finished the drink and stood to leave, he caught a glimpse of the barista’s nametag: Allyson. The name stuck with him for a moment.
Allyson, Allyson, Ally— there was a glimmer of recognition, though he couldn’t place why. He just knew he had to come back.
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The next week, Max found himself walking into the cafe again. The familiar warmth of the place and the scent of freshly ground coffee drew him in without hesitation. As soon as he stepped inside, he was greeted by Allyson, who nodded at him like she’d been expecting him.
“Caramel latte, two pumps hazelnut?” She asked with a playful smile.
“Yeah, exactly that,” Max said, sliding up to the counter.
She got to work, but this time, Max really studied her. The way she moved behind the counter, with a sort of effortless grace, felt... different than most baristas. He had seen her before, but he couldn’t place her. That smile, those eyes—there was something about them that triggered a memory he couldn’t quite access. He racked his brain, but nothing concrete came to mind.
As she handed him the cup, he noticed the smallest detail—a little flicker of hesitation in her eyes as she did. It was subtle, but it didn’t escape him. Max opened his mouth, then closed it. Maybe he was just imagining things.
“Thanks,” he said, pulling his wallet from his pocket, but she shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ally said, her voice soft but sure. “It’s on the house. A little thank you for being a regular.”
Max blinked, surprised by the offer. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She smiled again.
“Alright, then. Thanks, Ally,” he said, before stepping toward the door.
“It’s Allyson!” She argued.
Max walked away laughing at their small banter, the nagging feeling in his chest only grew.