LOVE BETWEEN THE ALTERS

CHAPTER 2: THE NOTE IN HER BOOK

I found the note on a Tuesday.

It was raining again. Of course it was. Laoag in August doesn’t know how to do anything but drizzle and pretend it’s not a storm.

I was at the corner table. My table. The one with the worst light and the best view. The one Daniel worked at.

The sticky note was tucked under the salt shaker like someone didn’t want it to be obvious, but also didn’t want it to be missed.

In case you come back. — D

My hands did something stupid. They shook.

Inside, I could hear them.

Rae: Throw it away. It’s a trap.

Bunso: It’s pretty! Can we keep it?

Elena: Statistically, baristas do this for all regulars.

Dreamer: He remembered us.

I folded it twice and slid it into my Mary Oliver book. Devotions. The pages were already soft from how many times I’d reread them.

I should’ve left. Instead I ordered black coffee and sat down.

For an hour I pretended to read. Really I was watching the door. Waiting to see if he’d notice me. Waiting to see if I’d regret coming.

He did notice.

Daniel came out from behind the counter with a rag in his hand, like he was just wiping tables. But he stopped when he saw me.

“Hey, Maya,” he said. Soft. Like he wasn’t sure I was real.

I blinked. “Do I know you?”

The lie came out before I could stop it. Sometimes it’s easier. Sometimes it’s safer if I don’t remember.

His face fell. Just a little. “From last week. You were here. With the book.”

Oh. Right. That day.

Rae had been fronting when I left. Rae doesn’t remember faces unless they’re a threat.

“Oh,” I said. I could feel my cheeks burn. “Sorry. I have a bad memory sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. Too quickly. Like he was afraid I’d bolt. “How are you?”

“Fine.” I wrapped both hands around the mug. The ceramic was warm. “Busy.”

I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to stay.

He didn’t leave. He leaned against the next table. “You like poetry?”

The question caught me off guard.

Dreamer: Answer him.

Elena: Don’t give him anything.

My mouth moved before I could decide. “The dreamer does.”

The what.

I heard it as soon as I said it. I laughed. Too loud. The sound bounced off the windows. “I mean, I do. Sometimes.”

He just nodded. Like that made perfect sense. “What kind?”

“Mary Oliver. Ocean Vuong. The sad ones.” I looked down at my book. “Sorry. That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird.”

I looked up then. His eyes were brown. Steady. Not pitying. Just… there.

For a second all of us were quiet inside. Even Rae.

“I should go,” I said abruptly. My chest felt tight. “I have class.”

I left money on the table. More than the coffee cost. And I ran.

---

That night I couldn’t sleep.

Rae: We’re not doing this. He’s going to get hurt.

Bunso: But he was nice to us.

Elena: People are nice until they’re not.

Dreamer: What if he stays?

I opened the book. The note was still there.

In case you come back. — D

I traced the D with my finger.

The next day I didn’t go. Or the day after.

On Thursday I told myself I was just getting coffee. That was it.

This time it was Rae who fronted when I walked in.

I didn’t sit. I ordered to go.

“Black coffee,” I said. My voice was lower. Sharper. “Large.”

Daniel was behind the counter. He didn’t flinch.

“You got it,” he said. He made it himself.

When he handed it to me, our fingers brushed. I didn’t pull away.

“Thanks,” I said. Then, quieter, because Rae was tired and I was tired: “You don’t have to be nice to me.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “I want to be.”

“Why?” The word came out before I could stop it.

“Because you looked tired last week. And today you look tired too.”

Something in my chest cracked. Not broke. Cracked.

“It’s complicated,” I said.

“I figured,” he said. He smiled. Small. “I’m good at complicated.”

That got me. A real smile. Not Rae’s smirk. Not Bunso’s grin. Mine.

“I have to go,” I said.

“See you, Maya.”

I paused at the door. “You remembered.”

“I did.”

Outside, the rain had stopped.

---

I didn’t go back for three days.

Elena: See? He’ll forget.

Dreamer: He won’t.

Bunso: I miss the hot chocolate.

On the third day, I caved.

It was raining again. I was sitting at the table with my book open, and the note was still tucked inside. Creased now from how many times I’d taken it out.

Daniel came over with a water. He didn’t ask if I wanted it. He just set it down.

“You write nice,” I said. Soft voice. My voice.

“Thanks,” he said. “You read nice.”

I smiled. Really smiled. The kind that reaches your eyes.

And just like that, I was in trouble.

The good kind. The kind where someone sees you and doesn’t look away.

We talked for ten minutes. About books. About the rain. About nothing.

Before I left, he said, “Same time next week?”

It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t a promise.

But I nodded anyway.

“Okay.”

---

Later that night, I sat on my bed and pulled out a notebook.

Rae: Don’t.

Dreamer: Please.

I wrote:

_His name is Daniel.

He leaves notes.

He doesn’t ask which one of us he’s talking to.

He just says “Hi Maya” and means all of us._

I closed the notebook.

Elena: This is a bad idea.

Bunso: But what if it’s not?

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t have an answer.

And maybe that was okay.