When The Sun And The Moon Meet

Chapter 5: sky tears

"Hey, we're out of whipped cream so-"

"Got it!" The boy steps forward, popping the top off a new can. It instantly sprays towards the ceiling, and he tries to cover it with his hand, hurrying over to the sink. Scarlett tries her hardest to not laugh, reaching under the counter for another can whilst Jasper fights the other one.

"Jasper, get that espresso machine going!" A coworker says in passing, carrying a new bag of coffee beans. Jazz drops the can, which continues to spray against the sinks sides.

"Dumbass," Scar mutters to her friend as he fiddles with the machine now.

It was nearly the end of her shift and she found herself looking longingly towards the library next door. The calm quiet enviroment of it all always intrigued her, like a body of water in the desert. She clocked out as soon as she was done, walking over to the front door with a pep in her step.

"I'm never fucking with whipped cream ever again."

She laughed, "You've still got some in your hair y'know?"

"Youre just now telling me this?" He gasped, reaching a hand to his blonde dreads.

"Eh I thought it was just dandruff at first," Scarlett jokes, shrugging. Jazz bumped into her shoulder as they walked to unchain their bikes.

"Asshole."

"Dickhead."

After mounting her green bike she waved him goodbye, setting off to her escape. The library was huge, multiple floors filled with bookshelves and study spaces. Floating in the air was a never ending woody smell, something only a reader could truly enjoy. It was always warmly lit, a gray haired woman governing the checkout desk with a special glint in her eye. The woman nodded to the girl as she stepped in, her thin lips forming a welcoming smile.

Scarlett wandered up the stairs until she found her usual spot, a corner with a small couch and footrest. She slung her bag off her shoulder, unzipping it and pulling out a new book that she had been reading. It was terribly long and had an old-fashioned way of writing, a classic, yet she seemed to have found herself falling in love with it the more she read. She flipped the yellowed pages to the spot she was at, marked by an old bus ticket that was wedged in between the pages.

Falling into another land, she sinked back into the couch, propping her feet up. Only able to read a few pages or so, she found that her mind seemed to be drifting off. She would catch herself and have to skim back a couple of paragraphs, not maintaining any of the words in her hands. Only the ones in her head.

Like, for instance, is Mother missing her at all? She was grown, sure, nearly 19 now, but did her mother long for her presence whatsoever? She was probably clearing off the kitchen table right now, placing dirty dishes in the washer, all neat and perfectly aligned. Mother always said Scarlett loaded the dishwasher wrong. "Teach me then" Scar would say, which only ensued bickering and the slamming of angrily washed dishes. She surely didn't miss her mother, not right now, not while soaking up this silence. She seemed to only miss her in pieces, the good memories though they were few and far between brought her a little warmth.

Youth. Barefoot in the hot sand, running to water that gleamed under the bright sun. Her mothers bejeweled and soft hand carefully slipping into her much smaller one. Mother taught her how to float on the water that day. It seemed it was all she did now, drift and hover above the surface. "If you're ever lost at sea, this is what you'd do. Deep breaths and don't panic. Somebody will eventually find you."

That voice soft like honey in her memories for some odd reason always made her think of its evil counterpart. "We work hard to be respected and you-"