Follow Request- Chapter 2
The first thing Y/N did every morning was check the time.
The second was check Instagram.
She cracked one eye open, reached across her nightstand, and grabbed her phone without bothering to sit up.
10:07 a.m.
She frowned.
"I was supposed to get up an hour ago."
She wasn't, actually.
It just felt better to pretend she had responsibilities on a Saturday.
The apartment was quiet.
Samira was either still asleep or already gone for her morning run.
Y/N pulled the comforter up a little higher before opening Instagram.
A couple of story replies.
Someone had tagged her in a post.
A handful of likes.
Then a notification she definitely wasn't expecting.
parkerellis24 started following you.
She blinked once.
Then again.
"...What?"
She tapped the notification.
Sure enough.
There it was.
Followed by parkerellis24.
Y/N stared at her screen for another few seconds like maybe Instagram would suddenly tell her it had been a mistake.
It didn't.
"...Why?"
She genuinely couldn't think of a reason.
They hadn't talked.
She hadn't asked for a picture after the game.
She hadn't even waved.
The only interaction they'd barely ever had consisted of saying exactly two words to each other.
Good game.
Thanks.
That was it.
"So why..."
She sat up against the headboard, still staring at the screen.
The more she thought about it, the less sense it made.
"Girl..."
A laugh escaped her.
"What game are you playing at?"
She wasn't offended.
She wasn't flattered.
Mostly...
She was confused.
Very, very confused.
After another few seconds of staring at the notification, she reached for the screenshot buttons.
Because if anyone was going to help her make sense of this...
It was her friends.
Y/N tossed her phone onto the bed.
She lasted all of eight seconds.
"...I'm not stalking."
She reached over and picked it back up.
"I'm just... looking."
Which was completely different.
Probably to her.
She tapped Parker's profile.
The first thing she noticed was how... normal it looked.
No perfectly curated feed.
No sponsorships.
No paragraphs in the bio.
Just:
parker.
#24 🏀
PSU WBB
That was it.
"Hm."
She scrolled.
A picture with who she assumed was Parker's family.
Another with Angel, who seemed to appear every couple of posts.
A game-day photo.
A blurry picture of a sunset.
Homemade pasta.
A Bronco covered in pollen.
A birthday post for what looked like her little sister.
Another carousel full of candid pictures from a cookout.
Nothing about the page felt planned.
It felt... lived in.
Like somebody posted when they remembered Instagram existed.
Y/N frowned.
"...I expected worse."
She wasn't even sure what "worse" meant.
Maybe someone who only posted basketball.
Or shirtless gym pictures.
Or motivational captions about grinding twenty-four seven.
Instead...
There were recipes.
Family.
Friends.
The occasional basketball picture.
Then right back to food.
She clicked one of the cooking posts.
The caption read:
made way too much. again.
The comments underneath made her laugh.
angel: girl you say this every single time 😭
ava: save me a plate next time???
jord: omw
Y/N smiled to herself.
"They're kind of..."
Normal.
She kept scrolling.
A picture from Christmas.
A birthday dinner.
Media day.
Then—
Her thumb froze.
The screen refreshed.
A tiny red heart appeared.
For exactly half a second.
Y/N's stomach dropped.
"...No."
She stared at the screen.
"No, no, no...shit"
Her finger moved so fast she nearly dropped her phone.
Unlike.
Refresh.
Gone.
She refreshed again.
Still gone.
"...Oh my God."
She buried her face in her pillow.
"I literally had one job."
After a full minute of contemplating whether it was socially acceptable to throw her phone into the nearest river, she slowly looked back at the screen.
Nothing.
No heart.
No evidence.
"...Maybe she didn't see it."
She nodded to herself.
"She definitely didn't see it."
Satisfied with that completely unverified conclusion, Y/N locked her phone, tossed it onto the bed again, and stood up.
"I need to leave this apartment."
--
The apartment smelled faintly like vanilla.
Y/N wandered into the kitchen, still in an oversized T-shirt and sleep shorts, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
Samira was already awake.
Of course she was.
She sat at the island with her laptop open, a mug of tea beside her and at least four color-coded tabs spread across the screen.
"You've been up for hours, haven't you?"
Samira didn't even look up.
"Since seven."
Y/N groaned dramatically.
"It's Saturday."
"I know."
"It should be illegal to be productive before ten on a Saturday."
"So report me."
Y/N snorted as she opened the refrigerator.
There wasn't much left.
A carton of eggs.
Greek yogurt.
Some strawberries she'd forgotten about.
Milk.
Half a loaf of bread.
She sighed.
"We need groceries."
"We do."
"And I'm blaming you."
"You ate the cereal."
"Allegedly."
Samira finally looked up, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"You also need coffee."
"I always need coffee."
"You become significantly nicer after coffee."
"I'm perfectly nice all the time."
Samira just stared at her.
"...Okay, maybe slightly nicer."
Silence settled comfortably between them.
Y/N leaned against the counter, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone again.
The follow notification was still sitting in the back of her mind.
Annoyingly.
She wasn't thinking about Parker.
Not exactly.
She was thinking about why Parker had followed her.
Which was different.
Mostly.
Samira closed her laptop.
"You've checked Instagram three times in the last five minutes."
"I have not."
"You have."
"I was checking the weather."
"On Instagram?"
"...Maybe."
Samira laughed.
Y/N rolled her eyes.
"I'm not thinking about her."
"I didn't say you were."
"You implied it."
"I actually didn't."
Y/N pointed at her.
"Your face implied it."
"My face is just my face."
"Mhm."
Samira stood, carrying her mug to the sink.
"So..."
"So?"
"You still want to go to Hawthorne Books?"
Y/N's expression brightened immediately.
"Obviously."
The little independent bookstore had become her favorite place within a month of moving to Pittsburgh, her first year.
Used books.
A tiny café tucked into the corner.
Shelves packed so tightly they looked like they might collapse.
It wasn't fancy.
That was exactly why she loved it.
"I was thinking bookstore first," Y/N said, grabbing her keys from the bowl by the door. "Then groceries."
"Sounds good."
"You coming?"
Samira shook her head.
"I've got work to finish."
Y/N made a face.
"On a Saturday?"
"It's due Monday."
"My condolences."
Samira smiled.
"Buy actual groceries."
"I always buy actual groceries."
"You came home with six books last time."
"...Those were essentials."
"They were novels."
"They were on sale."
Samira laughed.
"Go."
Y/N smiled to herself as she slipped on her shoes.
"Don't miss me too much."
"No promises."
A few minutes later, Y/N was climbing into her Jeep with an empty tote bag in the passenger seat and absolutely no intention of leaving the bookstore empty-handed.
--
Parker POV
Saturday mornings were sacred.
No practice.
No lifts.
No classes.
Just silence.
Parker padded into her kitchen barefoot, tying her hair into a loose bun as coffee brewed behind her.
Her loft was still exactly how she'd left it the night before.
Clean.
Quiet.
A cookbook sat open on the kitchen island from dinner.
She'd forgotten to put it away.
Her phone buzzed.
Ellis Family 🖤
Ava: dad burned the bacon 😭
Jordan: he absolutely did not
Marcus: i absolutely did.
Monica: He's being dramatic. It was one piece.
Ava: it was charcoal.
Parker laughed to herself.
Parker: y'all survived though?
Almost immediately—
Marcus: Barely.
She shook her head, smiling as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
Another notification appeared.
Angel 🤍
Angel: u alive?
Parker: unfortunately
Angel: dramatic
Parker: learned from you
Angel: impossible
Parker set her phone down and wandered over to the refrigerator.
Not much left.
She made a mental note.
Groceries.
She grabbed a sticky note from the drawer.
Eggs.
Spinach.
Chicken.
Rice.
Coffee beans.
She stared at the list for a second.
Then added one more thing.
Book.
She'd finished the last novel she'd been reading earlier in the week and had been meaning to stop by Hawthorne Books.
Maybe she'd find another recommendation.
Maybe she'd leave with three.
That usually happened instead.
Coffee finished, list folded into her pocket, Parker grabbed her keys from the bowl by the front door.
Her Bronco unlocked with a chirp from the parking lot below.
As she stepped into the hallway, she had no reason to think Saturday would be anything other than ordinary.
She was wrong.
--
The little bell above the front door chimed as Y/N stepped inside Hawthorne Books.
The smell hit her first.
Coffee.
Old paper.
Fresh pastries.
It was easily her favorite place off campus.
She grabbed an iced vanilla latte from the café tucked into the corner before wandering toward the fiction shelves, coffee in one hand and a canvas tote hanging from her shoulder.
Saturday mornings were usually quiet here.
A few students sat scattered around the café with laptops.
An older couple browsed the history section together.
Someone quietly restocked a shelf near the front.
Perfect.
Y/N took her time.
She always did.
Half the fun of coming wasn't buying a book.
It was wandering until something found her.
About fifteen minutes later, she stopped in front of the contemporary fiction shelf.
One title immediately caught her eye.
She pulled it free and skimmed the back.
"I've heard that's really good."
The voice was warm.
Close enough that it startled her.
Y/N looked up.
"Oh."
Parker Ellis stood beside her, one hand tucked into the pocket of a gray hoodie, a couple of books already resting beneath her arm.
Not in a jersey.
Not surrounded by teammates.
Just...
Parker.
For half a second, Y/N almost didn't recognize her.
Then it clicked.
"Oh," she repeated, laughing quietly at herself.
Parker smiled.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."
"You didn't."
"You definitely jumped."
"...Maybe a little."
That earned another smile.
Parker nodded toward the book in Y/N's hands.
"I've been meaning to read that one."
"You have?"
"Yeah."
Y/N looked between the cover and Parker.
"I don't know why that's surprising."
Parker laughed.
"I get that a lot."
"I just..." Y/N shrugged. "Didn't picture you as much of a reader."
"I didn't picture you at a basketball game."
"...Fair."
They both laughed.
The conversation somehow kept going.
One recommendation turned into another.
Then another.
Soon they were standing in front of the shelf comparing favorite books, debating whether movie adaptations ever lived up to the originals.
"They almost never do," Y/N said.
"I don't know."
Parker tilted her head.
"There are exceptions."
"Name one."
"The Hunger Games."
Y/N immediately pointed at her.
"Absolutely not."
"What?"
"The books are better."
"They're both good."
"The books are better."
Parker laughed.
"I can see you're passionate about this."
"You haven't even heard my opinions on horror movies."
"Oh, you're a horror person?"
"The biggest."
"I would've guessed romance."
Y/N looked offended.
"I don't know whether to take that personally."
"I mean..." Parker smiled. "You look approachable."
"So approachable equals rom-coms?"
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"I absolutely did not."
Y/N laughed, shaking her head.
"You're lucky you're funny."
"I've been told."
Somewhere behind them, the café grinder whirred to life.
Neither of them noticed how much time had passed.
Not until Y/N happened to glance at the clock hanging above the register.
Her eyes widened.
"...You've got to be kidding."
"What?"
"We've been standing here for like..."
She checked her phone.
"Twenty-three minutes."
Parker blinked.
"...Seriously?"
"Seriously."
For a second, they just looked at each other.
Then they both laughed.
"I should probably go," Y/N said.
"Yeah."
Parker adjusted the books under her arm.
"I should too."
Together, they started toward the front of the bookstore, still debating whether books or movies deserved more grace when they were completely different stories.
The bell above the bookstore door chimed as they stepped outside.
A cool breeze drifted through the parking lot, carrying the smell of fresh coffee from the café behind them.
For a moment, they just stood there.
Neither seemed to be in much of a hurry to leave.
Parker glanced down at the books tucked under her arm.
"You know..."
Y/N looked over.
"If you think of any more recommendations, send them to me."
Y/N raised an eyebrow.
"Recommendations?"
"You've already added, like, six books to my reading list."
"I did not."
"You definitely did."
"I suggested three."
"You talked about six."
Y/N laughed.
"Fair enough."
Parker smiled.
"I'll never remember all of them."
"...Instagram?"
"Yeah."
"Sure."
There wasn't anything strange about it.
They already followed each other.
It made sense.
Y/N shifted the tote bag higher onto her shoulder.
"Well..."
"I should probably head out."
"Me too."
She smiled.
"It was nice meeting you."
"You too."
Y/N started toward her Jeep before stopping halfway there.
"Oh."
She turned back.
"Good game yesterday."
For just a second, Parker looked surprised.
Then she smiled.
"Thanks."
A small wave.
Y/N climbed into her car.
Parker watched the taillights disappear toward the exit before walking the opposite direction.
She unlocked her car and tossed her books onto the passenger seat.
The driver's door stayed open for another second while she stood there.
"...I almost asked for her number."
The thought slipped out before she could stop it.
She frowned at herself.
"Why would I ask for her number?"
They'd met once.
Talked for twenty minutes.
About books.
It wasn't like—
Parker stopped herself.
A laugh escaped her as she climbed into the driver's seat.
"Instagram makes way more sense."
She started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot, and headed home.
Somewhere across town, Y/N was probably doing the exact same thing.
Neither of them realized that a twenty-minute conversation in a used bookstore had just quietly changed the trajectory of both their weekends.
--
Later that night
Taglist Open// @rutherbelscum @st4rjojo
I LOVE THIS SERIES SMMMM
