Begin Again | on hold

twenty-four

Sunday morning is Sunny's least favourite time of week. Everything opens so late and feels so dead; her day feels cut in half when nothing gets going until eleven instead of eight, but she still has to be at work by five. Even though she didn't get home until almost two a.m. – thanks to an inexplicable post-pub crowd looking for sweet treats, a late-arriving graveyard shifter, and then a bus that never showed – she's up early because her brain just won't shut off. Her two modes are to sleep in so late the day vanishes, or get up way too early considering the time she fell asleep, and today falls into the latter category because by eight o'clock, she's wide awake with a whirring mind, going over every aspect of yesterday.

That was, technically, her first date. It was a long date. She feels like she's just pounded ten shots of espresso thinking about it, her head and her heart totally wired, energy fizzing out of her body like she's eaten a whole packet of popping candy – and she's also kind of exhausted, probably because she's only had five hours' sleep and her ideal is seven to eight. She was so distracted for her whole shift that Michelle asked several times if she was alright because she made the wrong drink, or she got lost in a daydream while scrubbing out the milk frothing jug. Michelle thought something was wrong but her worry swiftly turned to amusement when she realised that Sunny was still riding a high from a great time with Viv.

In typical dreary April Sunday fashion, the rain starts sheeting down the moment Sunny decides it's time to drag herself out of the flat. A literal storm comes out of nowhere – the sky turns thick and black, the heavy clouds practically pulsating as the rain pours, smacking the windows and slapping the pavement and pummelling the people outside who didn't think to bring an umbrella when minutes ago, the sky was merely dreary grey.

"Fuck that," Sunny mutters. It's not like she had a destination in mind. Sometimes she gets a little lost trying to fill her days before work, those awkward hours when all of her friends are working because they have normal hours, sociable daylight hours – not today, of course, because most of her friends don't work weekends. She has always liked the late shift but maybe it's time to branch out? The thought of working a regular nine to five, even if it's at Percolatte, makes her feel a bit sick, but it is in equal parts vaguely appealing. She'd had the same schedule as her friends. The same as—

No, she is not thinking this because of Viv. Absolutely not. That would be ridiculous, to want to change the hours she's worked for years because of a girl. Not that Viv is just a girl.

Sunny redirects that train of thought with a shake of her head. She grabs a couple of the discount books she got from The Book Nook the other day and as she's about to settle onto the sofa under the window, the kitchen phone starts ringing its shrill ring, and she thumps into the counter with an oof when she lunges for it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Sunny, it's me." It's Delilah, with that soft and thoughtful voice. "You picked up quick. Did you sense I was about to call?"

"I don't think I've quite reached that kind of mindreading level," Sunny says, "but I happened to be close to the phone and in want of a friend." She scoots onto a stool and clasps her free hand over her rib, which she's pretty sure she bruised in her leap for the phone.

"Oh, perfect! I was going to ask if you wanted to come over? I'd suggest going out but the weather's so foul and I'd rather watch it from the comfort of my sofa than in a café surrounded by soggy strangers."

"There's nothing I'd rather do," Sunny says, the day taking shape right before her eyes. She mentally checks the bus times and calculates and time it'll take to travel to Sandy Hill and climb the damn thing and then decides that it's worth the price of a taxi. "I'll be there in ten."

"Wonderful. See you soon! Oh, and Sunny? If you have any romance novels lying around that you wouldn't mind parting with, could you bring one or two with you? I seem to have read everything in my flat."