The Knowhere Girl

[3] A Little Chat with the Coffee Addict

I bagged the woman's groceries, then offered to help carry her bags out to the car. The woman squinted at me before nodding. Her hair was askew, but no more than mine used to be, though it was starting to grow out again.

I followed her out to her car, making faces at the little boy that's attached to her hip. I didn't mind kids, the polite ones anyway. He giggled and hid his face in his mum's neck. The mother peered at me again before smiling and pressing a button on her car keys. A minivan's boot eased open, and I set the bags inside.

"Thank you," she said to me. "Say thank you to the nice lady, sonny."

"Thank you."

She tipped me, something else I was still getting used to here. I jogged back into the store. In the daylight the street, grey and aged smelt of garbage and that smell you only really find cities. I stepped into the too-cold store and returned to the counter.

It was a quiet day and I picked up the book I always kept close by, even though my reading wasn't the best. I'm probably dyslexic, though I was never tested for it. And it stayed quiet for the rest of my shift. About three quarters through, Gale ducked out and I was left on my own.

"You okay? You seem, uh, off."

I stared at Red Robin as I packed his caffeine drinks for him. I sighed. I knew the Joker was still at large; and that I'd managed to make an enemy. The movies never gave credit to how scary he was in real life. And I'm saying that after living through the killer clown phase of 2016. The stress of always looking over my shoulder was getting to me.

I missed my home. I'm tired.

"I'm good."

"I was trained by Batman. I know when someone's not fine, and I know when it's not just a bad day. I'm also the king of not getting enough sleep, so don't pull that either." He scratched the back of his neck as I stuffed his energy drinks into the bag.

"For the record, I don't sleep well."

Seriously, I would wake up if someone even just stood in my doorway, they didn't even have to speak.

He wasn't satisfied by that answer and continued, "Look, I like to consider us friends. You're a sane person in Gotham, who also doesn't happen to be a crazed fangirl or wearing a cape. I don't see your type too often."

That earned a chuckle from me. "Jury's still out on whether I'm sane, Smarty-Pants."

I winked at him.

And that got a chuckle from him. "And it's kind of my duty as Red Robin to help people anyway. So..."

"You were following me the other night."

My blunt statement seemed to amuse him, a small smile creeping across his lips as he shook his head. "Clearly I'm not every good at it."

"No, you're good. But you shouldn't have used your civilian identity." I kept my face neutral even as I felt my pulse beating anxiously. Red Robin pressed his lips into a thin line. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk."

"Okay. Just not here."

"You're scared." It was a fact not a question. He picked up his bag and paid. "I'll meet you later and we can talk. By the way, you don't have to worry about your boss asking questions or yelling at you for talking to me for too long," his lips quirked up, "or the security cameras. Your shift ends at nine?"

I nodded.

"I'll pick you up. We can talk then." His bag swayed with each step he took away from me. He paused at the door. "Also, a word of advice. Leaving your shift early would only pique my interest."