Almost Familiar

Chapter Six Unopened Doors

Easton

The bell above the café door jingled as the boy in the hoodie left, a half-smile still lingering on his face. I watched as he stepped into the fading gold of late afternoon, the shadows stretching long across the road. He slid into his car, a ’69 Mustang, and drove off with a quiet roar.

Something tugged in my chest. I didn’t know why.

“Get a grip,” I muttered, grabbing a cloth from the counter and scrubbing at a coffee ring that didn’t really exist. But my hands moved slower than usual, like my body was still trying to place him, the way he’d smiled, that hesitant politeness, like someone raised to say thank you even when their world was falling apart.

I frowned, pausing in the middle of the empty café.

A flicker: tiny sneakers thudding on wood chips, my older sister’s laugh ringing out. A boy was chasing Jensen around the pre-K playground. Loud. Fast. Loyal.

But the memory vanished before I could grasp it.

The front door burst open, shattering the quiet.

“All right, Casanova,” Jensen called out, “Who was that?”

Brecken and Stellen trailed in behind him, both grinning like idiots. Brecken leaned against the counter, peering out the window to where the car had been.

“You gave him free food, East,” he said, mock-serious. “That’s practically a proposal.”

I hurled the cloth at him. He ducked, laughing.

“Shut up,” I said, cheeks warm. “You guys have been hanging around here like a bad smell all afternoon. Don’t you have anywhere better to be?”

“Dawsen texted,” Brecken replied. The hospital ran late. She asked if I could swing by and walk you home. Knight in shining armor, and all that.”

“I can walk myself home,” I muttered, pulling my bag over my shoulder.

“I know,” Brecken said with a lopsided grin. “But you won’t. Because you secretly love our company.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue.

What did my sister see in him?

Outside, the sky had shifted into soft purples and blues, the breeze curling cool against my skin. Jensen veered off, muttering something about meeting up later. Stellen clapped Brecken on the shoulder before splitting away.

“I’ll see you at home,” he called over his shoulder.

And then it was just Brecken and me walking side by side down the quiet street.

The conversation started easy, teasing about Jensen’s awful playlists, Stellen’s latest failed t****k recipe, but eventually, the laughter faded. Silence settled between us, comfortable at first. Then heavier.

Brecken glanced sideways. “You good?”

I nodded, then hesitated. My fingers twisted the strap of my bag.

“You ever get the feeling someone’s important... and you just can’t place why?”

Brecken slowed, letting the question hang in the air like mist.

“Like... someone from your past?” he asked gently.

“I guess. He just... felt familiar. But not in a face kind of way. More like a feeling.” I shook my head. “Stupid, right?”

He didn’t answer immediately. He kicked at a pebble on the path, thoughtful.

“Not stupid,” he said eventually. “Maybe your memory knows something your head hasn’t caught up to yet.”

I smiled, small and tired. “That was weirdly wise.”

“I have layers,” he said with a shrug. “Like an onion. Or lasagna.”

I snorted. “Okay, Shrek.”

We reached my driveway, the porch light flickering on as we stepped up to it.

“Thanks for walking me,” I said quietly.

Brecken gave a casual nod. “Anytime. Daws would kill me if anything happened to you.”

As he turned toward the side of the house — toward Dawsen’s room — I called after him, “Hey, Breck?”

“Yeah?”

“You’d tell me if you knew him, right?”

His expression shifted, just for a second. Not a surprise, exactly. More like he was weighing something

“Of course, East. Maybe free food will help me remember.”

I laughed soft and unsure, and watched as he disappeared into Dawsen’s room.

But long after the door closed behind him, I stood there, chewing my lip, that boy’s face still burned behind my eyes.

Had I met that stranger before?