Chapter 1
Rio had always imagined her life would be greener, not metaphorically - though she'd have been fine with that too, but literally greener . With a botany degree she’d worked far too hard for (and the mountain of student debt to fucking prove it), she’d pictured herself in some lush greenhouse, maybe even curating some fancy botanical garden where tourists would gasp and take blurry iPhone photos of her prized lilies while she casually pruned something Latin-sounding.
Plants, she believed, got her in a way people never quite did. They didn’t blow the grocery money on crack, or leave you wondering why dinner was just canned corn again. They didn’t leave you waiting by the door with a packed bag and nowhere to go. Plants were straightforward. Give them sunlight, water, and some decent soil, and they thrive. Neglect them, and they die. No guessing games, no emotional baggage. Just a clean cause-and-effect relationship she could trust.
In other words, plants were reliable. People? Not so much.
Fast-forward to now, and instead of spending her days in a sunlit greenhouse surrounded by her leafy, dependable friends, Rio was stuck in the questionable ecosystem of her ten-year-old compact car. Her workplace wasn’t exactly lush; it smelled faintly of old fries, and her only real “green” was a stubborn little basil plant wedged on the dashboard. She’d bought it on a whim, thinking it might make her rideshare gig feel less grim, but mostly it just wobbled with the road like it was trying to bail out of her life too.
Driving for Uber wasn’t exactly on-brand for someone with a degree in chlorophyll, but hey, it sort of paid the bills and kept the student loan sharks at bay. Sort of.
Tonight, the dream was particularly far away, replaced by the glare of neon signs and the endless stop-and-go of the city’s nightlife.
Rio glanced at her phone, squinting at the next pickup: RuPaul’s Rejects . She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. It was a hilarious name for a drag bar, sure, but these kinds of places always meant glitter and booze splashed across her backseat by the end of the night.
But who was she to complain? A fare was a fare.
She pulled up to the curb, muttering to herself as she stared at the glowing sign outside the bar. According to the app, her passenger's name was Agatha, who, it turned out, was undeniably stunning up close. Rio was momentarily distracted by the woman’s messy waves and striking blue eyes. But then, just as quickly, a blonde slid in right behind her. Before Rio could even shift the car into gear, the two of them were already all over each other. Lips locked. Hands everywhere.
Rio tried to focus on the road, but her eyes kept sneaking glances through the rearview mirror, half in horror, half in disbelief. Had they really just forgotten she was there? The backseat was rapidly turning into a private make-out session, and Rio was now the world’s most uncomfortable chauffeur in the middle of it all. She was so distracted she nearly blew through a red light because, honestly, how could anyone fucking ignore that ?
The blonde was moaning, calling Agatha “honey,” and offering very specific instructions on where to touch. Meanwhile, Agatha joined in with her own moans, but if you asked Rio, they sounded more performative than genuinely pleasurable.
And just when Rio thought it couldn’t get any weirder, Agatha caught her staring. The sly little smirk curled on her lips as she slid her hand up the blonde’s thigh confirmed it. She even pulled the blonde closer, making it even harder for Rio to look away. It was almost like Agatha was putting on a little show.
Freaky bitch.
When they pulled up to an apartment, the blonde got out first, fixing her hair like she wasn’t just seconds away from being wrecked. Rio let out a relieved sigh as Agatha followed, thinking she might finally get a break. But that relief was short-lived when Agatha paused at the car door, glancing back at Rio with those piercing blue eyes, “Wait here,” she said, flashing that maddening smirk before turning back to the blonde.
At the door, Agatha didn’t even try to play it subtle. She pinned the blonde against the frame and kissed her like she owned her, her hands sliding down her waist, pulling her in. Rio, watching through the windshield, felt her pulse jump. She should’ve driven off. It was over, right? Agatha was obviously staying.
Or so she thought.
Just as she started to roll forward, the passenger door swung open. Agatha slid into the seat like nothing had happened, smoothing her hair in the mirror with one hand. “Nice girl,” she said casually, like she wasn’t still catching her breath. “Good kisser. But not exactly my type.” Then, with an infuriating smirk at Rio, she leaned back in her seat. “Shall we?”
Rio stared at her for a second, her pulse racing and heat sparking between her thighs. She clenched the wheel, nodded, and hit the gas as Agatha casually rattled off her real address.
Back in her shoebox apartment, Rio kicked off her sneakers, too exhausted to care where they landed, watered a couple of succulents by the window, and flopped onto her lumpy couch, which doubled as a bed. She liked living alone. After a night of driving strangers around, the last thing she needed was more people in her personal space.
Still, every now and then, there'd be a knock on her door. Not from a friend, but from the only person she could tolerate in the whole building: Lilia, her kooky neighbor-slash-landlady from across the hall.
Lilia was a bit different. Sweet, but quirky. She’d randomly show up at Rio’s door with random casseroles, saying something like, “I had leftovers, darling, and I hate wasting food,” though Rio was pretty sure Lilia just needed an excuse to check in.
Other times, she’d invite Rio over for tea, which tasted like something brewed to cure curses, and not thirst. Rio didn’t entirely trust the tea, but Lilia was quiet, didn’t pry too much, and didn’t charge late fees when Rio’s rent was a little behind. For that alone, Rio appreciated her.
Rio suspected Lilia wasn’t too nosy because she was involved in something Rio probably shouldn’t be poking around in. A few months back, when Rio couldn’t make it to the ATM in time, she wired the money directly to Lilia’s account. That’s when she noticed the recipient’s name pop up on her banking app: Lilia’s Leggings.
The truth was Lilia didn’t have a shop. Lilia didn’t even seem like someone who owned leggings. She was more of a long skirt, chunky cardigan, and occasionally a scarf that looked like it had been crocheted during the Great Depression. There was no way Lilia was running a business selling trendy spandex.
But Rio figured some questions were better left unanswered. If Lilia wanted to run her “leggings empire” out of a rent-controlled building, who was Rio to complain? At least Lilia’s casseroles were good. Illegal money or not, that cheesy lasagna had to count for something.
Rio had reached that point in the night where she was too tired to think but not quite tired enough to sleep. So, she did what any self-respecting adult would do, she turned on the TV and found herself watching a nature documentary. The kind of low-budget, filler content her cable bundled into their free package, which, let’s be honest, was just another piece of the scam.
She stifled a yawn and let the soothing voice of the narrator wash over her as she sunk deeper into the couch. It was all pretty peaceful at first, until a pair of bonobos showed up on screen, clearly up to more than just a casual hangout. There they were, tangled in the trees, tongues slipping and sliding in a dance that went on far longer than it had any right to. The camera zoomed in a little too closely, and Rio couldn’t look away. But instead of shutting her brain off, it started to drive.
Rio found herself replaying that car ride with Agatha and the blonde. The random blonde, who, if Rio was being honest, wasn’t even that pretty. But she couldn’t stop thinking about them: Agatha and her doing more. Hands everywhere, slipping into places they probably shouldn’t be. Agatha’s hands, boldly pushing into that blonde’s chest. The blonde gasping, moaning, the heat rising, as Agatha’s hands slipped lower. The scene grew more vivid, and before Rio realized it, the images in her mind began a detour.
Instead of the blonde, Rio imagined herself in the mix. Now it was Agatha’s hands sliding under her shirt, then her pants. Agatha’s tongue in her mouth, and Rio’s breath catching, moaning through it, her body aching for more, wanting more.
Wait, what the fuck?
With a frustrated grunt, Rio shot upright, tossed the remote like it had personally insulted her, and slapped her hands over her face. Monkeys. Monkeys , for crying out loud. She’d just been watching monkeys making out, and now her brain was serving up a scene of her kissing a stranger - who, let’s be honest, was probably more of a liability than a lover.
Rio collapsed back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling, her heart still racing, sweat on her forehead, and a sudden heat between her thighs. No. She was not going to replay that little mental episode. Instead, she hugged her pillow tightly, curling into a ball, and tried to will herself to sleep.
Two weeks after the incident (not that it had stopped playing on repeat in Rio’s head, in case anyone was wondering), she trudged up the stairs to her apartment, a bag of instant noodles and a bruised avocado barely holding on in her grocery haul.
The exhaustion from juggling two jobs still had her running on fumes, but hey, at least dinner tonight was...sort of covered. Rio wasn’t even sure why she still bought groceries. Half the time, Lilia would end up shoving food at her like some kind of overzealous grandma who’d mistaken her for a starving stray.
Just as she hit the landing, Lilia’s door creaked open, as if the woman had some kind of sixth sense for when Rio was too tired to dodge her. “Ah, there’s my hardworking girl!” Lilia chirped, “I’ve been meaning to catch you. You should stop by later. I made almond cookies. They’re divine, unlike that processed crap you insist on eating.”
Rio glanced at the bag of instant noodles peeking out, like a guilty kid caught sneaking candy before dinner. “Thanks, Lilia, but I’m sort of wiped. Maybe another time?”
Lilia shook her head in exaggerated disappointment. “You’re always wiped out. Working at that rundown convenience store in the mornings, driving an Uber at night. At this rate, kiddo, you’ll be working yourself into an early grave.”
“It’s what pays the bills,” Rio said with a shrug, adjusting the groceries in her hand. “And the rent…which, I know, I’m late on, but I’ll pay you this weekend, promise.”
Lilia leaned against her doorframe, crossing her arms. "You pay me whenever you can. I’m not about to ruin my karma over your hustle. You’re working harder than most people I know, and I’ll take whatever you can throw my way...eventually." She gave Rio a warm, knowing smile.
Rio shook her head, stepping into her apartment. “You're a saint, you know that?”
“A saint who bakes almond cookies like they're straight from heaven," Lilia said, already halfway through closing her door. "My offer stands until bedtime, kid. Feel free to knock if you change your mind. Get one for the road, at least.”
Rio sat in her car, parked at the curb in front of a dive bar in the Lower East Side. She'd just finished devouring one of the almond cookies Lilia had practically shoved into her hands before she went out, when her phone buzzed. Her last fare for the night.
The address was just a few blocks down. A quick, easy pickup. She tossed the last bite of cookie into her mouth, shifted into gear, and made her way over.
The bar sat on Stanton Street, right across from a bodega that stayed open no matter the hour. Rio was just about to roll down her window when the bar door swung open. A redhead stepped out, rocking a leather jacket that probably cost more than Rio’s entire wardrobe and red lipstick as bold as her attitude.
She glanced up from her phone, flashed a quick smile at Rio, and walked toward the car. Just as she was about to get in, she paused, one hand on the door. “I’m with someone, hold up a sec."
Rio nodded, sitting up a little straighter as she watched the redhead walk back toward the door. But then, the next person stepped out from the shadows of the bar, and in that split second, Rio’s heart did a full-on freefall. Oh, for fuck's sake.
Agatha slid into the backseat like it was just another ride, but time seemed to freeze as Rio’s eyes locked onto hers. Agatha, just as caught off guard as Rio, quickly recovered, tossing her hair back and laughing softly, like this was the funniest thing that had happened to her all week.
Agatha was about to say something when the redhead slid into the seat next to her, pulling the door shut. “So, where were we?” the redhead purred, already leaning toward her blue-eyed seat mate.
Before Rio could even catch her breath, the redhead’s lips were on Agatha’s, and they just started french kissing like they’d been starved for weeks.
The next few minutes were a serious test of Rio’s sanity. Though she really kept her eyes on the road this time, she couldn't entirely ignore the occasional moan and the unmistakable sound of slurping tongues from the backseat. What the hell is wrong with these people?
Rio stared straight ahead, completely (and let’s be honest, dangerously) zoned out, which wasn’t exactly a shining example of safe driving. Especially not while chauffeuring two passengers through the chaos of New York traffic. If there were ever a PSA for what not to do behind the wheel, this would be it.
Rio wasn’t exactly proud of it, but with Agatha in the backseat, moaning and giggling with her new companion , keeping her focus was like trying to ignore a mosquito buzzing around her head.
Then, cutting through the buzz of it all, Agatha’s phone started ringing. Rio and the redhead both glanced back, and for a second, it looked like the redhead might actually stop Agatha from picking up. But Agatha was already on it, tapping the screen. “Hold up,” she said. “This might be important.”
The redhead leaned back in her seat, clearly not thrilled with the interruption. Rio kept her eyes fixed on the road, not wanting to be the driver who pries. But, curiosity? Well, that was human nature. Then, Agatha gasped loudly, enough to make both of them look over their shoulders.
"I’m sorry...I-I need to get off here.”
The redhead blinked, completely thrown off. "Wait, what? Why? We’re so close…"
But Agatha was already on edge, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. Rio squinted - was she maybe overdoing it a little?
“Our neighbor called,” said Agatha, "My mother…she’s in the hospital right now. I really have to go.”
“Oh, sweetie…” the redhead reached out to touch Agatha’s arm.
Agatha shifted in her seat, forcing an apologetic smile, one that didn’t quite land right, at least not to their driver. “Yeah, uh…I just really need to go,” she told the redhead before turning to Rio. “Can you just drop me off here please? Right by the corner is fine.”
The redhead immediately protested, looking at Agatha like she was nuts. “No, no, that’s crazy. You don’t need to get out here. It could take forever for you to find another ride. I’m not letting you get stranded. Just drop me off and I’ll grab a cab. You should stay in this one. Let me make sure you’re okay.”
"I don’t want to make you—"
"No, it’s fine," the redhead interrupted, "Just take the ride. It’ll be quicker. I’ll catch a cab."
"Are you sure?"
The redhead gave Agatha a small nod. "Of course, silly, your poor mother needs you." She turned to Rio. "Just drop me off by the corner, please." Rio nodded. But before stepping out, the redhead leaned in close to Agatha, capturing her lips in a deep kiss that lingered just a beat too long. "You have my number," she whispered against her lips, "Call me when you're free, yeah? I’m not done with you yet." Then, with a final glance, she was gone.
Rio and Agatha were now alone in the car. Rio glanced up at the rearview mirror and caught Agatha’s eyes. "So, which hospital are we heading to?" she asked. But instead of answering, Agatha started smoothly sliding over the center console. "What the hell are you doing? You can’t just–What the–are you trying to get us arrested?"
"Sorry, hot stuff," Agatha half-laughed, plopping herself into the passenger seat like she hadn’t just committed a minor crime. "I’ve never been a fan of backseat driving." She kicked back, looking way too comfortable. "Nice plant, by the way," she added, nodding at the basil on the dashboard. "Lonely little thing, but it's cute. Makes the space a lot cozier.”
When Agatha didn’t say anything else, Rio blinked, her brain still catching up. "Uh...you still haven’t told me which hospital your mother is at," she said, genuinely confused.
“Oh, that?” Agatha’s eyes slowly shifted from the basil to meet Rio’s, “She’s not in a hospital. Honestly, she’s probably in hell for all I care,” she deadpanned. “At least that’s where I’d send her.”
“What?” Rio slammed on the brakes just in time for the red light. Shifting into neutral, she yanked the handbrake and turned to Agatha like she’d just grown a second head. “But I thought you said?”
“Sweetheart, I lied," said Agatha, casually poking at the basil on the dashboard. “And you might want to dial down on the brakes quite a bit. You nearly gave me whiplash.”
Rio couldn’t figure out why she had reacted the way she did. Normally, she’d stay neutral with her passengers, but with Agatha? She felt like her circuits were frying. What the hell was it about this woman?
Okay, maybe it was because she just straight-up lied to that redhead – who, yeah, wasn’t exactly a looker, but she seemed sweet enough. Rio almost wanted to ask why Agatha lied, but then she thought, why would she? She probably shouldn’t be getting involved in whatever mess Agatha had going on.
Luckily, the light turned green, giving Rio the perfect excuse to keep her mouth shut.
“Some people are just easy to read, you know,” muttered Agatha, like she was plucking the thought straight from Rio’s head. "One night in, and she’d have me locked into something serious. Not really my thing." She shrugged. "Better to cut and run, right?”
Jesus, this woman was a human curveball, Rio thought.
Agatha spotted the cookies sitting near the console and perked up. “Are these homemade cookies? God, I haven’t eaten anything since that woman started trying to swallow my face.” She grabbed one without hesitation, popped it straight into her mouth and groaned. “Man, this is good. Did you bake these?”
“Did you just–” Rio shot her a look. “What if I’m secretly a psycho and laced them with something?”
Agatha shrugged, popping another cookie in her mouth. “Well, if I’m gonna go, at least I’d have a good view." She licked a crumb off her lip, glancing at Rio. “Could be worse ways to go than staring at your pretty face.”
Rio’s cheeks flushed pink. Was Agatha seriously flirting with her? She opened her mouth to speak, but instead just bit her lip and turned her focus back on the road. Keep it together, Rio. Keep it together.
Agatha stayed silent, and the awkwardness between them grew. Rio couldn’t help but sneak glances, watching as Agatha seemed oddly fascinated by the little details of the car.
“You know, if you're gonna treat this like a joyride, maybe throw on a seatbelt? The last thing I need tonight is a ticket.” She said the last part quietly, but Agatha caught it anyway, letting out an amused laugh as she brushed her hair back.
“Actually, just drop me off a little further up,” Agatha said, rolling down the window and casually resting her elbow on the side. Rio found herself looking at Agatha. The breeze made her hair dance, and the city lights outside made her look almost angelic – in Rio’s dictionary, a radiant lily.
When Rio pulled over, Agatha stepped out but leaned back in, “Well, this was fun,” said Agatha with a smile, holding Rio's gaze just a little longer than usual. Rio could’ve sworn she saw something soft behind her blue eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by that signature cocky grin.
“Thanks for the ride...and for the cookies,” she continued, “Definitely the best thing I’ve had all night,” she winked, slipping both hands into her pockets before strolling off.
Rio was deep in the trenches of her morning shift at the convenience store, stacking cans with the enthusiasm of someone who’d been awake for three days straight. She yawned so much, she was pretty sure she could power the entire store with just the air escaping her mouth.
Every now and then, a customer would stumble up and ask where something was, and she’d snap out of her half-sleep just long enough to point them in the right direction. Honestly, at this point, Rio was practically begging for a Karen to show up, demanding a refund for a banana because it was too bendy , or the chips weren’t stacked just so . Anything, really, to wake her from this mid-shift coma.
Rio wouldn’t admit it, but the one time she actually woke up during her shift was when she thought the woman pushing the cart in aisle two was Agatha. She had to rub her eyes and slap herself a few times to snap out of it. The woman had her in some kind of trance. Fuck.
"Dude, what are you doing?" Alice, her coworker, asked, catching her mid-slap.
Rio shot upright, her cheeks burning from the slaps and the fact she probably looked like a total idiot. "Nothing," she mumbled, going back to the endless task of stacking cans.
Alice glanced at her, then at the bags under her eyes. “Rio?” she said, earning a distracted “Hmm?” from the latter. Alice paused, sizing her up. ”When’s the last time you actually slept? Or are you even getting any sleep anymore? ‘Cause, no offense, you look like shit.”
Rio groaned, rubbing her eyes. “If I could sleep, I would, trust me.”
Alice raised an eyebrow. "Then why can’t you?"
Rio thought about it for a second. She wanted to spill everything: the constant scramble to pay bills she could barely cover, the rent she was struggling to make, barely hanging on thanks to her landlady turning a blind eye – otherwise, she might’ve been out on the streets by now, and the crushing weight of fucking student debt that kept her up at night. And, if she was being honest, there was Agatha. Not that it was a huge issue, but it certainly wasn’t making things any easier.
How do you even start explaining all that? Especially when the last thing Rio wanted was to sound like she was drowning. Instead, she shrugged, letting out a half-hearted laugh. “You ever just…have too much going on up here?” She tapped her temple. “Guess I’m just wired too tight to catch a break.”
Alice crossed her arms and gave Rio a knowing look. “You know what you need? A drink in hand and a dance floor to forget it all. Trust me, one night of booze and dancing, and you'll be knocked out cold, sleeping like a baby.”
Rio stared at Alice like she’d lost her mind. “I’m barely awake as it is, and you want me to go out and get drunk? Alice, do I look like someone who can handle tequila shots right now?”
Alice leaned closer, “That’s why you need it, genius! Let loose for once. A couple of drinks, a little dancing, and the exhaustion will catch up with you. I’m really telling you, you’ll sleep like a log after.”
Alice noticed Rio’s unimpressed expression and kept going. “I’ve got a date tonight.”
Then Rio shot her a different look. “If you’re suggesting a double date, I’m not –”
“No,” Alice cut her off, holding her hands up. “Obviously, no dates for your cranky old ass. But you do need to get out. So, you’re coming with me. I’m sure my date won’t mind you tagging along. You just drink, dance, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll get the sleep you’ve been denying yourself.”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I can survive a night out.”
Alice just smirked. “Oh, you’ll thank me later.”
The bar was, as expected, loud enough to rattle Rio’s skull. She had squeezed into a black slip dress. Her hair fell in loose waves, effortless in that way that made it look like she hadn’t tried, but somehow still nailed it. The small succulent tattoo on her back peeked out, one of many questionable college decisions inspired by tequila and way too many joints.
Rio sat at the counter, nursing a drink that was probably too strong for someone running on fumes, but whatever. Alice was next to her, all smiles with her date: a drop-dead gorgeous woman who looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine. Even Rio had to admit, Alice has game.
Meanwhile, Rio just sat there, swirling the ice in her glass, minding her business. Or at least, trying to.
Because apparently, everyone else was minding hers.
She wasn’t oblivious to the attention. A glance here, a lingering stare there, mostly from stunning women, occasionally from men, none of whom she gave a second thought. Rio wasn’t in the mood for it, nor did she have the energy.
"You know half this bar is checking you out, right?" Alice leaned over, taking a sip of her drink, eyes flicking toward a group of women who had been staring at Rio since they walked in.
Rio exhaled, taking a lazy sip. “Good for them.”
Alice’s date – Allison, if Rio caught it right, chuckled. “You don’t seem interested.”
“I’m only here for the free drinks your date promised me,” Rio deadpanned.
Alice snorted. "That’s a shame. Some of them look like they’d make excellent distractions."
Rio rolled her eyes, glancing around, purely out of reflex. More stares. More smiles. People were clearly debating whether to come over, but Rio couldn't care less. Just as she was about to bury her face in her drink again, her eyes caught on someone. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.
And just like that, as if she could feel Rio’s gaze, Agatha looked up, their eyes meeting even though her arm was already casually draped around a brunette’s shoulders.
Rio blinked a couple times. Nope, not imagining it.
And as if the universe had a sick sense of humor, Alice and her date suddenly excused themselves – most probably for some reason Rio definitely didn’t need to picture. And just like that, she was left alone sitting at the counter, exposed and one drink away from a meltdown. Perfect fucking timing.
Half an hour had passed, and Alice and Allison were still MIA. But Rio had long stopped looking for them, instead occupying herself with dodging yet another attempt at a conversation from some shameless, clearly misguided guy. Five of them, to be exact, all of whom had approached with varying degrees of charm, none of which made the cut.
By the time the fifth guy made his exit, she heard a voice slide into the seat next to her, “Jesus, that's five down already.” Rio didn't even have to look to know who it was. “You're like the grim reaper, but for men’s hopes of getting laid.”
Without missing a beat, Agatha waved the bartender over, her hand gesturing for two drinks. “Two vodka sodas, please. One with lime, the other with a twist of grapefruit,” she requested. Only then did Rio finally turn to face her. “What a nice coincidence, don’t you think? I see you’re finally taking a break from your nightly drive and your little basil plant?” she added, clearly enjoying herself.
Rio couldn’t help but give her a side-eye. “I see you’re still into ditching dates?” she replied, aiming for deadpan but somehow managing to sound just a little...jealous. She glanced at the brunette from earlier, who looked clearly displeased that Agatha’s attention had suddenly shifted. Rio could practically feel the woman’s frustration from across the bar.
"She’s a big girl. She’ll manage," Agatha said with a shrug, just as their drinks arrived. She pushed one of the glasses toward Rio. “But you? You look like you could use this more.”
Rio raised an eyebrow, eyeing the drink, then Agatha, “You might want to hand this to the brunette you abandoned over there. Because trust me, you're not taking me anywhere tonight.”
Agatha chuckled, "Oh, don't worry, sweetheart," she said with a wink, “I'm not in the business of taking people anywhere they don't want to go.” She swirled the drink in her hand before taking a slow sip, eyes never leaving Rio’s.
Rio exhaled through her nose, half in amusement, half in defeat. She picked up the glass, giving it a slow, considering swirl before having a sip. "So, what happened to your actual plans for the night?"
“They ran their course.” Agatha shrugged, leaning her elbow on the bar.
“That’s a polite way of saying you got bored.”
Agatha huffed a small laugh but didn’t deny it. “Let’s just say expectations weren’t met.”
Rio glanced toward the brunette, now deep in conversation with someone else.
“Yeah, she looked thrilled about that.”
Agatha followed her gaze briefly before turning back. “As I've said, she’ll survive.”
“You always this good at making clean exits?”
“You always this good at noticing?”
Rio shrugged. “Hazard of the job. You see a lot when you're always driving people around.”
“Guess that makes you good at reading them,” said Agatha, taking another sip.
“Something like that.”
“So, what’s your expert read on me, then?”
Rio studied her for a second, eyeing her over the rim of her glass. “Right now, I'm seeing someone who's probably had better options than sitting here drinking with me.”
Agatha leaned in just a little, tilting her head. “And yet, here I am.”
There it was again – that certain softness in Agatha’s eyes. But this time, Rio had enough time to catch it, to know she wasn’t imagining it at all. It was almost disarming, the way this stranger in front of her could look at her like that. Rio let out a small laugh, shaking her head before taking another sip.
Or maybe she’d just had one too many drinks.
Agatha took another slow sip. “So, what about you? Is this your usual Friday night when you're not out driving people around? Dodging admirers and nursing vodka?”
Rio scoffed. “Please. I was dragged here against my will.”
Agatha smirked. “Really?”
“By someone at work,” Rio nodded. “She thinks a little partying will magically fix my problems.”
Agatha tilted her head, amused. “And how’s that working out for you?”
Rio sighed, glancing around at the swarm of people who all seemed to have more energy than she could ever hope to have these days. “Not even sure it's doing anything.”
Agatha chuckled. “Well, maybe you just need a better distraction.”
Rio gave her a look. “And I suppose you think that’s you ?”
Agatha shrugged, setting her glass down. “I mean, I did get you to stop scowling at your drink.”
Rio snorted. “Yeah, because now I’m scowling at you .”
“Wow,” Agatha placed a hand over her heart, pretending to be offended. “And here I thought we were slowly having a moment.”
Rio rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but laugh. “Is this how you managed to pick up all those girls?”
Agatha paused, her smile widening like she found it amusing that Rio had figured her out. Rio paused too, suddenly aware of how much more beautiful Agatha’s smile seemed. “Why, sweetheart? Is it working on you?” Agatha asked, and for a second, Rio almost forgot how to breathe.
But she snapped out of it quickly. Jesus, get it together, Rio. “Nope. I’m not that easily impressed.”
“Okay,” replied Agatha. “But my overbearing, guilt-tripping, dead Catholic mother did not raise a quitter. I’d say give it another drink or two. The night’s still young, after all.”
“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that. I have to warn you, I might, or might not, completely zone out halfway through this conversation.”
Agatha tilted her head, an idea flashing in her eyes. “Sounds like you need more than a drink, then.”
“And what exactly do you have in mind?”
“How about a dance?” Agatha leaned in, setting her glass down and offering her hand to Rio. “One quick spin to put you out of your misery?”
Rio hesitated, the idea of dancing sounded like a bad joke, especially with how little sleep she’s gotten. But there was something in Agatha’s blue eyes that made her consider. "A dance?” she repeated.
"A dance,” Agatha echoed. “You know, two people moving to music, one's got to pretend they know what they’re doing while the other’s trying not to step on their feet –"
Rio cut her off. “I know what a dance is,” she said, laughing. “I’m just sleep-deprived, not stupid.”
Agatha leaned in, her smile turning a little too confident, their faces suddenly a little too close. “Come on. I won’t let you off the hook that easily. As you can probably guess, I’m pretty good at getting what I want.”
“Alright,” Rio finally said, surprising even herself. “One dance,” she added, holding up a finger for emphasis.
Agatha’s grin widened, clearly pleased. “One dance.”
They stood up, Rio’s legs a little wobbly from sitting too long, and made their way to the dance floor. The music, once intimidating, now felt a little less overwhelming.
Agatha was right. There was something about the way she moved that made Rio forget about the exhaustion, forget about everything outside of that space.
The dance wasn’t anything fancy. It was just the two of them swaying to the beat, close enough to feel each other’s presence but not so close it felt awkward.
For once, Rio wasn’t thinking about bills, or the lack of sleep, or the endless to-do list waiting for her. All she could focus on was that moment: this gorgeous, somehow impossible woman dancing and smiling in front of her. Then one music led to another, and another, and before she knew it, Rio barely registered how naturally comfortable she felt with Agatha’s hand on her waist or her own resting on Agatha’s shoulder. And for the first time in a long while, it felt okay to just...breathe.
Panting and giggling like teenagers, Rio and Agatha stumbled out of the bar, both drunk on cheap cocktails and high on the thrill of the night. Maybe also on a couple of joints gifted to them by some generous stranger on the dance floor. The neon lights flickered above them as they half-walked, half-tripped onto the empty street.
“Okay,” Rio drawled as they walked side by side. “Favorite New York moment?”
It was probably the third round of questions they’d traded so far. From what Rio had gathered about Agatha, she lived alone, preferred dating brunettes over blondes – which Rio had definitely scoffed at, and had left home at a young age after getting fed up with her mother.
“Well, to be honest, this one’s really climbing the charts,” Agatha answered, her eyes lingering just long enough to make Rio blush.
Rio huffed, trying to play it off. “Is that just to flatter me, or–” Agatha’s smirk stopped her mid-sentence, and Rio just sighed, rolling her eyes. “Alright, whatever. Next question. What's your favorite flower?”
“Favorite flower?” Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Why would you want to know my favorite flower?”
Rio shrugged. “Couldn’t think of anything else.”
A lie, because she’d been dying to ask, wondering if Agatha shared her love for plants.
Agatha hummed, thinking. “First thing that comes to mind? Azaleas.” A small smile tugged at her lips, like she was remembering a fond memory. “Back home, our neighbor Mrs. Hart had a garden full of them. I used to steal a bunch on my way to school and leave them in my crush’s locker.” She smirked. “Well…two or three of them, anyway.”
“Of course, you had way too many options to keep track of,” scoffed Rio.
Agatha just grinned. “What can I say? I had a lot of azaleas to go around.”
Rio rolled her eyes, but before she could respond, Agatha asked. “What about you? Did you ever leave flowers for a crush, or were you always the one getting them?” She tilted her head playfully. “Cause judging by the way people were checking you out at the bar, I’d bet on the latter.”
“No. I didn’t have time for silly crushes back then,” said Rio. “And honestly, no one would have been interested in a foster kid.” There was something heavy in her words, and Rio could feel Agatha picking up on it. After a pause, she tried to lighten it. “And I was just too skinny, had big eyes that freaked people out, and this awful gap in my teeth they always made fun of.”
“Your teeth aren’t awful,” Agatha immediately replied, shaking her head. “You’ve got great teeth. And the gap? It just makes them even better.” She paused, looking at Rio with warmth in her eyes. "And I like your eyes. They’re perfect. Anyone who doesn’t see that is just probably blind.”
“You’re just saying that,” Rio said, trying to sound casual. Of course, Agatha was probably just saying that. The woman had a knack for making anything sound convincing, like she could sell sand in a desert. Rio had definitely picked up on that tonight.
“No, I’m not," said Agatha, never breaking eye contact. "I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
There was something in the way that Agatha was looking at Rio that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t expected. She wanted to say something, make a joke, but the words just wouldn’t come, and all she could do was smile.
"Nice tattoo, by the way," Agatha remarked casually, nodding toward Rio’s right shoulder. “What’s the story behind it?”
Rio blinked, realizing she was referring to the small succulent inked just below her shoulder blade. She barely remembered it was there most days. “Oh, that,” she suddenly felt shy about it. “It's nothing deep. Just some spontaneous decision my college friends peer-pressured me into.”
“Why a cactus, though?”
Rio shrugged. “I-I don’t know. Seemed really cool at the time.”
"I don’t believe you."
Rio turned to her, lips parting slightly. “Excuse me?”
“I don’t buy that you just randomly picked it.” Agatha eyed Rio. “I know every tattoo means something, even if people pretend it doesn’t. Something made you choose that over, I don’t know, a flower or a skull?” Agatha studied Rio closely, catching her reaction, and a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. “Aha, I knew there was more to it. Now, back to my question, why that and not something else?”
“Fine.” Rio exhaled. “It’s because, out of all the plants I know, they’re the ones that don’t really need water. They don’t beg for rain, they don’t wilt when no one tends to them. They just take what little they’re given and make it enough.” She paused, looking up. “There. That’s why I chose it.”
For a moment, Agatha didn’t say anything. She just stood there, as if absorbing every word Rio had said.
“And you said it was nothing deep?” Agatha teased, making Rio relax a bit. Rio let out a soft, sheepish laugh. She had a habit of oversharing, but another thing she’d learned about Agatha was that she never pushed when someone clearly didn’t want to say more.
Agatha smiled. “It’s beautiful. It’s kinda growing on me,” she added. “Might even get one myself, if I wasn’t so terrified of needles.”
"You? Scared of needles?"
Agatha scoffed. “Why is that so hard to believe?” She rolled up her sleeve, revealing a faint scar near her elbow. “Knitting needle. Age twelve. Tried to make a scarf for a girl, despite never having touched a knitting needle before."
"Of course you got a scar from impressing yet another girl." Rio groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
Agatha just smirked. “I snuck into my mother’s sewing room, tried to copy what I’d seen her do, but at some point, I just yanked too hard, and the needle went flying. Bled like hell.”
“Ouch, bet that hurt like a bitch.”
"It did. But not as much as watching her kiss some ginger kid from another school under the damn slide." She shook her head. “I don’t even know what she saw in him. The boy literally looked like Dr. Seuss, minus the beard.”
Rio burst out laughing. "So, is that why I’ve never seen you with a real ginger yet?”
“Probably,” Agatha tried to deadpan, but Rio couldn’t stop laughing. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you? Me telling you all the stupid stuff I’ve done?”
“Maybe?” Rio shrugged, teasing a smile. “I mean, we’re all inherently stupid, it’s just funnier when we get to prove it out loud.”
Agatha chuckled, then, after a beat. “Alright, next question. What do you actually enjoy most about driving people around?”
Rio thought for a second, fiddling with her fingers. "I don't know. Probably because it’s easy. You sit, you drive, don’t have to think too much. And you get paid, obviously." She hesitated, then added, "But honestly, I’d probably enjoy it more if I was also doing something I actually cared about."
Agatha tilted her head, “Which is?”
Rio hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek. It wasn’t something she often said out loud. But something about Agatha made it easy. “Well…instead of spending my time behind the wheel, I’d rather be out in nature, studying plants or something. Instead of just passing time, I’d be part of something more alive, something growing." She frowned, feeling suddenly exposed. “And now I’m just rambling.”
“I don’t mind. You could yap all night, and I wouldn’t get tired of it.”
Rio’s heart did something funny at that, but she tried to keep her face neutral.
Agatha continued. “But if you’d rather be doing that than driving, what’s stopping you from doing so?”
Rio ran a hand through her hair. “I tried, but the opportunities just weren’t there. The jobs were either too competitive or didn’t pay enough to make it worth it.”
“But at least you’d be doing something that makes you feel alive, right? Even if the pay’s not perfect, at least you’d be happy.”
Rio let the words sink in. Agatha was right. That was the dream. Somewhere along the way, everything she’d been through had clouded that kind of thinking. The 25-year-old version of herself: the hopeful, optimistic, spontaneous one, would’ve been heartbroken seeing how much she’d let herself change.
Then she looked at Agatha, who was already staring at her with a look Rio hadn’t seen in a long time. And suddenly, Rio realized: maybe the door to those old dreams wasn’t locked after all. Maybe it was still wide open, just waiting for her to finally walk through.
And as if the universe hadn’t already nailed perfect timing all night, it started to rain.
Agatha groaned and ran toward a random store’s awning, but when she looked over her shoulder, Rio was just…standing there. Eyes closed, arms out, and almost smiling up at the sky.
“What the hell are you doing?” Agatha called.
Rio cracked one eye open. “It’s raining.”
“Yes. I can see that. I have eyes.”
“I don’t think I’ve enjoyed the rain this much since I was a kid. I almost forgot how good it feels,” said Rio. Maybe it was the alcohol, the high, their conversation, or the fact that joints hit differently when you’re running on no sleep, but she didn’t care. She liked this feeling.
When Rio opened her eyes, she found Agatha already staring at her again, and despite the rain somehow blurring her view, Rio could still see those blue eyes soften once more. This time, though, it was seemingly a little more vulnerable than before.
“What? Afraid of a little rain?” Rio teased.
Agatha shook her head, laughing softly. “I always had a feeling you were a weirdo.” Then, without a second thought, she stepped forward, and Rio instinctively caught her hands, pulling her into a slow, clumsy spin. They danced without music. Like fools. Like rain-drenched, reckless idiots. Slipping, laughing, almost falling – until, inevitably, they did.
Agatha groaned, staring at the grimy sidewalk, while Rio burst out laughing, and Agatha couldn’t help but join her, propping herself up on her elbows with a smile that was almost as wide as Rio’s.
And then, realization hit.
“Oh shit,” Rio gasped, fumbling beneath her dress. “Shit – my phone.”
“Fuck,” Agatha grumbled as well, pulling her own out of her pocket. Both screens were black now, water dripping from the edges. “Mine’s toast too.”
Rio's face dropped as she realized she’d have to buy a new phone. But then she looked at Agatha, who was also looking at her with the same drenched, ridiculous look, and suddenly, it hit them both. Without saying a word, they burst into laughter again, both of them soaked and looking like total idiots.
Still lying on the ground, Rio turned her head, her laughter fading as she caught Agatha still looking at her. But Agatha wasn’t laughing anymore, just staring at Rio with a soft, almost quiet expression. Her dark lashes heavy with rain, lips slightly parted as if she had been waiting for this moment all night. And just like that, Rio found herself waiting as Agatha slowly leaned in, close enough that she could feel the warmth of her breath.
But just as their lips were about to meet, Rio gently pulled back, “This probably isn’t a good idea,” she murmured, though her heart was saying something else entirely.
Agatha studied Rio's face, as if searching for some explanation, but Rio simply held her gaze, hoping that the way she said it, and the way she looked at her, would be enough for Agatha to understand. To Rio's surprise, Agatha didn’t press. Instead, she let out a soft, knowing laugh, her lips curving into something gentle as she nodded. Without a word, she started to rise, reaching out her hand to Rio.
Rio hesitated for only a second before taking it.
“Well,” Agatha said after a beat, brushing wet hair from her face. “This was fun."
Rio let out a breathy laugh, nodding. “Yeah. It really was.”
Now they were just standing there, dripping wet, staring at each other like two people who suddenly didn’t know what to do with their hands. Rio fidgeted with the hem of her dress, as if that would make the silence less awkward.
Then, finally, Agatha spoke. “I want to see you again. Not by another coincidence or chance, or whatever people call it. I want to see you, see you . If that’s okay?”
Rio blinked. That was clearly…unexpected. The Agatha she knew, the one from the backseat of her car these couple of weeks, didn’t seem like the kind of person to say something like that. And yet, here she was, standing in the rain, saying it anyway.
Agatha must have caught the surprise on Rio’s face because she smirked. “Though I’m guessing exchanging numbers is off the table,” she added, glancing down at their drowned, useless phones.
Rio groaned, flipping hers over. “Yeah. This thing is so dead.”
They stood there for another moment, rain still falling, until suddenly, Agatha’s eyes lit up like she had just been struck by the most brilliant idea. Without a word, she grabbed Rio’s wrist and tugged her toward the nearest hotdog stand.
“Uh – what?” Rio chuckled, stumbling a little. “What exactly are we doing?”
Agatha didn’t answer. Instead, she reached into her bra, pulled out a slightly crumpled ten-dollar bill, and slapped it onto the counter. Rio blinked, then laughed. “Of course that’s where you keep your money.”
“Safest place,” Agatha said matter-of-factly, batting her eyelashes as she handed Rio their hotdogs, then turned to the vendor. “You got a pen?”
Rio gave her a suspicious look. “What exactly do you need a pen for?”
Agatha grinned as the man handed over a pen along with her change. Taking the hotdog from Rio, she passed her the pen instead. “You have a landline at home, yeah?”
Rio nodded.
“Good. Write it down.”
Rio hesitated for only a second before scribbling her number across the dollar bill. She hadn’t even realized how much she wanted Agatha to have it until this moment.
“Wait,” Rio said suddenly, a bit surprised at herself. “Shouldn’t I get your number too?”
Agatha’s eyebrows lifted, clearly amused that Rio was actually asking for it.
Without a word, she grabbed another dollar, wrote her number down, and handed it over to Rio. “Now, I can call you whenever I need a ride,” she said half-joking, “and you can call me whenever you need someone…to ride.”
Rio's eyes immediately shot up, almost choking on her hotdog. “With you! I mean, to ride with you. Like, if you ever need a co-pilot or something, someone to talk to on the road...if that’s even allowed,” Agatha quickly corrected herself, laughing as she watched Rio squirm. “Jesus, I swear I didn’t mean to.”
Rio cleared her throat, still a little red, and took a quick bite of her hotdog to avoid making eye contact. “Right. Sure. But that’s actually not legal. Company policy,” she said, shrugging casually, though her cheeks were still tinged with color.
“Too bad. I would’ve made a great co-pilot,” said Agatha, and Rio could tell it was a pretty lame excuse. Agatha was definitely aware of that, too. But Rio smiled anyway. This freak of a woman.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Rio’s eyes flicked to the time on the hotdog vendor’s wristwatch. “Guess I should get going,” she said, a little reluctantly. "Alice, my work friend, the one I told you about? She’s probably wondering where I’ve disappeared to by now.”
Agatha’s smile wavered for just a second, nothing too obvious, but enough for Rio to notice.
“Yeah, sure. Of course. I should probably head home too.”
They both stood there, their hands shifting awkwardly at their sides. Rio shrugged slightly, glancing over her shoulder. “Well...this is me,” she said, pointing back the way they’d come.
“And I’m this way.” Agatha gestured to the opposite side.
“Okay,” Rio said, nodding, but not really moving.
“Yeah,” Agatha replied, also taking a small step, but neither of them was really ready to leave just yet.
The silence between them now felt a bit charged, like there was something else hanging there. Rio couldn’t think of anything to say to ease it. On impulse, she took a step back toward Agatha, leaned in, and planted a brief, gentle kiss on her cheek. “Thanks,” she said, pulling back with a smile. “You ended up being a better distraction after all.”
Before Agatha could react, Rio turned and walked away briskly.
“Wait!” Agatha’s voice stopped Rio in her tracks. Rio turned around, feeling a little nervous. She watched as Agatha stood there, also looking a bit nervous herself. “Okay, this is kind of awkward and embarrassing, considering we’ve technically spent the whole night talking, but...I kinda forgot your name from the app. From last time,” Agatha admitted, and Rio couldn’t help but feel like she saw it coming. “I know, it’s stupid, but I'm really really bad with names –”
Rio chuckled, cutting her off from across the street. “It’s Rio! My name’s Rio.”
“Rio,” Agatha repeated, her smile soft and a little shy, the same gentle look she had when they first locked eyes. “Nice to meet you, Rio,” Agatha said with a playful warmth, “I’m Agatha!”
“I know,” Rio smiled, shaking her head. “You’ve definitely made sure you’re hard to forget.”
Agatha laughed softly, her eyes bright as she took a small step backward. Rio smiled to herself as they shared one last look before finally turning away from each other.
But just as Rio was almost out of earshot, she couldn’t resist glancing back one more time, catching Agatha from over her shoulder. Agatha was still watching her, and their eyes met for another brief moment before they both finally finally looked away.
Five days had passed, and Rio found herself standing at the landing of her apartment building, groceries in hand, staring at the old landline on the wall in the hallway: the one Lilia had insisted on keeping, despite arguing that nobody used them anymore. Honestly, Rio was kind of grateful for it now.
The problem was, the phone hadn’t rung in a while. Agatha hadn’t called, and Rio kept thinking: if Agatha hadn’t called by now, shouldn’t she be the one to make the call? She really wanted to, even if she wouldn’t admit it. So what was holding her back? Well, if she hadn’t been such a coward that night and just kissed Agatha, maybe she wouldn’t be standing there, staring at the stupid landline, waiting like an idiot.
"You're home early," Lilia noted as she stepped out of her apartment, already dressed to head out, most likely to the senior center again. Wednesdays, after all, were for tarot readings and a few rounds of Briscola. “Did your shift get cut short? Or are you not feeling well? I told you, if you keep pushing yourself like this your body will let you know eventually–"
“No, I’m fine. Someone just offered to swap shifts,” said Rio but Lilia eyed her carefully.
“Are you sure you’re alright? You seemed so much brighter a few days ago.”
Rio forced a smile, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. It’s nothing.”
Lilia didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she gave a nod. “Alright then. You should rest, kid. If you need anything, give me a call. You know where to reach me.” But as she started to walk away, Rio’s voice stopped her.
Rio hesitated. “Lilia, by any chance...did anyone–”
“No, darling. No calls since this morning,” Lilia replied, and Rio’s shoulders sagged, ready to turn away when Lilia added, “Oh, wait, there was one.”
Rio straightened up, suddenly hopeful. "Yeah?"
“A kid,” Lilia answered. “But it was probably just a prank call.”
Rio’s face fell, though she tried not to show it. “Right. Got it."
“The person you’re waiting for still hasn’t called?”
“No,” Rio admitted, not wanting to drag it out. She offered a small, forced smile. “You should probably get going. Just tell the ladies I said hi.”
Rio was getting ready for her night shift, phone in hand as she stepped out the door: the phone Lilia had insisted she borrow after lecturing her on the literal need for a decent one for her job. Rio’s fingers hovered over the screen, but as she looked at her phone, she couldn’t help but think about Agatha.
And once again, her eyes landed on the landline in the hallway.
And before she could think twice, she muttered, “Oh, screw it,” and pulled the crumpled dollar bill from her jacket pocket, the one that had been there for the last five freaking days.
She unfolded it, hesitated for a moment, and then dialed the ten digits. The ringing began, and each tone only added to the knot in her stomach. Come on, pick up, she thought. Please, just pick up . It rang. And rang. And rang again. And for a moment, she thought no one would answer. Then, just as her patience was about to break, a voice finally came through.
“Hello?”
A woman’s voice, but definitely not Agatha’s.
It sounded older, Rio thought.
"Hello? What’s this about?” the woman asked, sounding annoyed. "If this is one of those damn prank calls again, I fucking swear–”
“No, sorry," Rio rushed out. "I thought I was calling someone else.” She took a deep breath, then added, still hopeful, “Is there an Agatha there by any chance?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line before the woman spoke, her voice sounding even more confused and more annoyed. “Agatha? The only person here is me. And I’m definitely not Agatha. Who the hell names their kid Agatha, anyway? What kind of dumb name is that?"
Rio felt her stomach drop. Did Agatha just give her the wrong number on purpose? “Oh. Right. Sorry for bothering you so late,” Rio mumbled. “Thanks again for—” Before she could finish, the woman hung up.
Rio stood there, the phone still pressed to her ear, staring blankly at nothing. She didn’t want to admit it, but the thought was too real to ignore. Maybe Agatha really had just given her a fake number. Maybe Rio had been foolish to think it was different.
Rio hung up the phone and balled up the dollar bill in her hand. She didn’t even look as she tossed it into the trash. She should’ve seen it coming. After all, Agatha just probably saw her the same way she saw all the others: just another brunette to have fun with and ditch when she didn’t meet her expectations.
Relying on people, Rio thought, is like watering a cactus and hoping it’ll turn into a rose. It’s a fucking gamble. Sometimes you wait, sometimes you get pricked. But a plant? It just does its thing. It’ll die when it’s ready, but it never leaves you wondering. So maybe it was better this way. Rio was better off with her basil plant in her cramped car and succulents in her shoebox apartment.
At least they never made her feel like a fool.