Four Of A Kind

Chapter 105: [3.7] My Life is a Soap Opera, and My Barista is the Only Sane Character

I didn’t know if walking into Bubble Dreams was an escape or an extension of my current predicament. Either way, I needed those drinks before heading to Valentine Manor for Cassidy’s tutoring session and Sabrina’s ramen delivery.

The bell chimed as I pushed open the door, and I was met 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 me guess: taro milk tea, less sugar, extra pearls for someone fancy, and strawberry milk tea with lychee jelly for someone cute and pink?”

I raised an eyebrow. “You memorized the entire order?”

“Pretty boy with nice hands comes in regularly to buy boba for rich employers? Yeah, I’m gonna remember that.” She closed her textbook. “You look like garbage today.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean, hot garbage. The kind people would still pick up.”

“Your compliments need work.”

She laughed and started preparing the drinks without me 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 ramen 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 messages—one from Vivienne asking about a revised schedule, one from Harlow containing only heart emojis, and one from Sabrina saying: I assume you’ll be on time. Nothing from Cassidy.

“Here we go.” Mira set down two drinks and plopped into the seat opposite me. “One for me, one for you. On the house.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Consider it payment for helping me 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 time…”

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 remember 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 me 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 me.”

The word “kiss” sent my brain into an immediate tailspin. I must have made a face because Mira’s smile dropped.

“I’m kidding! Sorry, I get too friendly sometimes. 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 games the sisters were playing.

“Can I ask you something hypothetical?”

“Sure.” She sipped her drink. “I love hypotheticals.”

“What would you do if someone 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 me?”

I sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“No kidding.” She leaned forward. “How do you not know who kissed you? I mean, your friend. How does your friend not know who kissed them?”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, there are multiple people who look exactly the same.”

“Twins?”

“Something like that.”

Mira let out a low whistle. “That’s some soap opera stuff right there. Was it a good kiss at least?”

The memory 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 time. It’s not a big deal.”

“You do?”

“Sure. College is weird like that. Sometimes with tongue, even. It’s not a thing.”

“That sounds like a thing.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “The point is, kisses can mean different things. Some are just friendly. Some are drunk mistakes. Some 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 mean—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 me, 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 me. But sitting there across from Mira, with the taste of boba on my tongue and the memory of strawberry perfume in my mind, I couldn’t honestly say that was true.