Chapter 2

  “No ma’am, I cannot add caffeine to the decaff. I have decaf, and I have full-caf. Pick one.” A vein bulges from my forehead as I expin the concept of coffee to a Karen.

  “But I like decaf, but I'm tired.” She says in a nasally, extremely punchable tone.

  “So get the regur coffee.”

  “But I want decaff. I swear it’s like I’m talking to a brick wall.”

  “Alright, listen here you st-“ a hand sps over my mouth cutting off the rage before it can be weaponized. Tara drags me away from the register and puts me in timeout, pointing at dirty tables, her eyes tell me to go but her smirk tells me she’s happy.

  I try to school my rage but it’s like trying to keep an octopus in a bucket. Angrily I lean over and grab the bright red sanitizer bucket from under the sink, hot water pours into it at a pace that’s far too slow and I drizzle a cap worth of industrial sanitizer into it and wait. The familiar white cloth and orange stripe taunt me from the undry bag. Punishment.

  The first table greets me with a sptter of coffee and a dash of sprinkles. I challenge my messy foe with the wet pp and squeak of elbow grease. Eyes burn into the back of my head from Tara but I ignore it. I keep scrubbing the table like I can wipe the smirk off that Karen’s face, like I can erase the memory of Casey lighting my cigarette for me. Heat hits my face and I move onto the next table.

  The next table is far tidier and won’t be as much of a nuisance. If not for the bright patron sitting next to it.

  “H-“ I bite my tongue and start cleaning the table. Eyes peek over to the work on Casey’s ptop, clearly stealing all of her focus since she hasn’t said anything to me today. Thank god.

  “Loser, you never told me what you’re doing your midterm on. I know you want to, so just spit it out.” I say firmly to the bubble-queen.

  “Oh, hey,” she beams at me with a smile, that stupidly idiotic cluster of hair dangling over the corner of her gsses as she stares up at me. “Just the effects of repeated hits of oxytocin on the brain over time.”

  “That sounds neat… cough syrups and stuff…”

  “Nope, that’s Codeine. Oxytocin is a neurotransmitter in the brain.” She politely corrects me with a teasing lilt, her eyes go back to her ptop.

  “Oh right… neuro… yeah yeah I knew that” my cheeks tinge a shade of pink that hasn’t been part of my wardrobe in decades.

  “Oxytocin is the love hormone,” she says through a smile “it’s responsible for that warm feeling you get when you hug someone, share space quietly. Bonding and stuff.” She pauses and looks over her gsses at me and whispers “kissing too.”

  Nope nope nope nope nope. This girl is a maniac. My heart beats not quite into my throat but firmly in my chest as I wipe down the previously clean table for the second time. She can’t get to me, she isn’t getting in my head.

  “How was that pastry yesterday?” I ask earnestly, trying to change the subject “they’re on sale through the rest of the week”

  “It was delicious, thank you” she rests her chin on her palm and keeps her eyes on her ptop “it’s about time for that smoke break ain’t it?”

  “Uh yeah… mind if I borrow that lighter? I forgot to buy a new one.” The lie slips from my lips like spittle as my thumb fidgets with the fresh lighter in my apron pocket.

  Casey reaches into her pocket and produces the silver zippo from yesterday and holds it out to me. A pink heart sticker stuck to one side and a melting ice cream cone on the other. Fitting imagery, god, thanks for that. I hide the disappointment and gently take the lighter from her hand with a whispered thanks and head outside to my picnic table. Why isn’t she following me?

  The breeze feels nice against my overheated head, birds sing in the shrubs below only interrupted by the metallic cnk of Casey’s zippo as I light my cigarette and deeply inhale. The lighter, still warm from her pocket, feels at home in my hand. The thoughts of Casey however, feel foreign and too-rge.

  Why did she stay inside today?

  She has her school work to do, don’t be a dumbass.

  But she came out st time, did I fuck up?

  Quit spiraling, Brooke, don’t be a dipshit!

  Another drag and another thought. Another flip of the lighter between my fingers. Warmth. Oxytocin. No. I let the zippo fall to the picnic table with a gentle cp and I turn my attention to the ants crawling around my combat boots, so small, so insignificant. Yet they draw my attention nonetheless.

  The cigarette singes to a stump after one st drag and finds its way to its forever-home in the ash catcher. Casey’s lighter finds its way back into my hand and the ants find their way to wherever the hell they get their love hormones. Boots beat against concrete, cking the fervor of yesterday's internal panic, but keeping that same firmness that makes my stride my own. I walk straight into the break room and into my locker and grab an apple and trailmix. I hesitate for only a moment.

  Before I can stop them, my feet turn me around and take me right back to Casey’s table in the corner and I stand her stickered zippo upright next to her ptop with a light tap. Followed by the apple, then the trailmix.

  “No bear cw today. Nerds like you need brain food, not crash food.”

  “CrunchBucks doesn’t sell apples and trailmix.” She says with a slight smirk.

  “Who says I’m selling these to you?” I fight the groan “you want em or not?”

  She nods and smiles at me. That look all but melts my facade.

  “Good luck on your midterm. Check out the band ‘Gss Bridges’ and get back to me.” I pick up my abandoned sanitizer bucket and stomp back to my pce behind the counter. Tara gives me a look.

  “Bite me, Tara.”

  “Fuck you, Brooke. I saved your job earlier.”

  “Yeah kinda… thanks.”

  Despite our banter, Tara is the best work sister you could ask for. Except when I see her eying Casey over my shoulder. I involuntarily squint my eyes at her, as if I can read her mischievous and intrusive thoughts just by trying.

  Tara’s eyebrows go up and she gets this weird, broken half smile, half frown, on her face like she just watched a panda bear fall from a hammock.

  “What? You eat something bad? You look like you’re gonna hurl, Tara”

  She shakes her head and coos “Bro, that girls got it so bad for you, don’t turn around. She’s staring at the back of your head like she’s gonna paint it tonight when she gets home.” Tara covers her mouth as she watches Casey watch me watch Tara “shes gonna sacrifice a gallon of candy or some kind of witchcraft about you tonight”