On The Highest Branch

Chapter 1

Just 10 more minutes.

She needed to survive just 10 more minutes, and then she could go home, curl up in her bed, and finally find out what happened between Kaneki and Arima, characters in her current manga obsession.

Junifer "June" Guinn usually enjoyed working at her grandparents' quaint café, Café Dahlia, but the Sunday rush-hour racket was testing her patience right now. Even the cheery décor and soothing music failed to give her spirits the boost they usually ensured.

It didn't help that tomorrow would be the first day of Senior Year, which meant she was losing precious moments of her last day of Summer. Moments that she'd rather spend immersed in Volume 14 of Tokyo Ghoul.

But, right now, she had only 10, no 9, more minutes remaining in her shift. So, she continued wiping down Table 5 which had been abandoned by a group of teenage boys. They seemed to think that the extra 20-dollar tip entitled them to murder a 14 oz Heinz tomato ketchup, and leave the crime scene on their table.

With 6 minutes left, she bee-lined to the counter to deposit her tray of dirty dishes, but had to dodge a toddler who, at the most inopportune time, decided to pop out of hiding under Table 6. A veteran waitress, she was able to hold on to the tray she was balancing in her arm even as she made a sweeping turn around the cafe, looking for the toddler's probably already anxious parent. She finally sighted a man craning his neck in search. June caught the poor man's eye and mouthed, "He's here."

The man let out a sigh of relief, audible even from half a room away, and walked over to collect his errant kid.

With two minutes left in her shift, she was finally able to dump the contents of her tray into the already full sink. She swept aside the curtain separating the main café area from the kitchen, and stepped into the heady aroma of freshly baked pastry.

Her best friend and fellow server, Marcel Barer, was already putting on his apron. He was muttering something under his breath, probably a line from another play he was auditioning for. He looked up when June walked in, and his ready smile faltered when he saw her.

"Did the Taliban cross oceans and accost you?" was his greeting, accompanied by a sweeping theatrical hand. From June's now skewed ponytail, which, if we were being honest, did not really start out perfect when she left the house this morning, his hand travelled to her faded black shirt and leggings, all the way down to her sneakers with the shoelace undone.

June started biting her fingernails while Marcel perused her state of disarray. She retorted, "At least, I don't look like a gigolo."

The blue Dahlia apron with the flower logo prominently displayed in front really should have looked ridiculous on top of Marcel's impeccably ironed purple shirt and white pants. But, he wore it with such aplomb that the uniform had no choice but to flatteringly frame his well-built physique. White loafers that no speck of dirt dared touch completed the ensemble. How Marcel could keep those pants and shoes white all the way until the end of his shift, June could never imagine, but that was one of his superpowers.

And, he had a lot in his arsenal.

"Admit it, I look like I stepped straight out of a fashion magazine," Marcel responded. . June continued chewing her fingernails, terrified she'd agree if she stopped doing so.

"Anyway," Marcel continued. "My life is about to change this Saturday. I've been asked to—"

"Your life has already changed so many times that you could be the poster boy for Evolution. Your shift began 5 minutes ago, Neil Patrick Harris. Get out there!"