I'd been in since six in the morning, and that was a time that just shouldn't be allowed ever. The baker, God knows how he even did it, had been in since half four - which to me, and basically every single person I knew other than him was still the middle of the night.
Unfortunately for me, I hadn't slept at all. I'd been awake reading all night and the next thing I knew my mum had come into my room to wake me up. I just wasn't feeling up for anything really. I was so close to face planting the cake I was in the middle of icing and just sleeping right there and then... But I didn't want to lose the only decent job that I'd ever had, and even though I complained about it constantly inside me head, I would complain a whole lot more if I couldn't find another job again. Those things were hard to find around here.
I let out a small groan, putting the piping bag down and placing the last of the iced roses on the cake before boxing it up. I almost dropped the whole box as someone walked in, banging the door off of the wall and I cursed under my breath. It was the lady who had ordered the cake, so I was happy that I hadn't, or I would have never heard the end of it. She was one of my mum's friends, and all she did was talk about herself and how marvellous her life was - but massively over exaggerating things that made people glare and get bored very fast. I think I'd lasted ten minutes when I first met her, before I headed upstairs with some lame excuse that I had homework to do.
"Oh Drew!" she said, her ridiculously shrill voice making me groan internally.
She immediately started with her big silly stories and I zoned out as I wrapped the box up in ribbons and stamped it gently with the bakery logo, taking my time as I thought about who had been in already, and which regulars were still to walk through the door.
I have to admit, I was kinda hoping that someone interesting would come in, and liven up the morning but I wasn't putting any bets on it - probably just the same elderly couples that came for loaves and cupcakes for their grand kids. I let out a small sigh and passed the lady that was telling me about how her family were coming round for dinner the cake I'd been icing this morning, she peered down at it and beamed in delight, thanking me repeatedly as she paid me then walked off.
I put the money in the till and I looked up just as a boy walked in, same as he'd done every single day for the past few weeks and stood at the door where the end of the queue was. I felt the corners of my lips tug into a smile at the sight of him, silently thanking him for coming in, a much younger face to smile at - a change of scene kind of thing.
He was an odd looking boy, and you couldn't really miss him when you saw him walking down the street: he always wore a white shirt underneath a grey or black waistcoat, black skinny jeans and a belt with bullets on it. He had shaggy blond-brown hair and on top of them sat a pair of goggles, which no one really knew why he wore them... But he suited them, that was for sure.
I should have been more shocked by this the first time he came in, though I knew him from school. The quiet boy that sat at the front of the class, barely lifting his head and when he did wear his glasses he would be pushing them up every couple of minutes. His name was Shane. I'd never really spoken to him, other than the couple of times that we'd worked together in class in group presentations and pair work - even then he didn't seem to speak much, but I didn't mind. It made a change from those that just talked about nothing interesting. Then summer had hit and I didn't see him everyday at school, I only saw him in the streets when I was walking home from work or out shopping with my mum or dad, even then I didn't say much other than the odd "hi" and "how are you?".
It was around a quarter of the way through summer that he'd started coming in almost every day, but he never stayed to get whatever it was that he came in for. He came in around ten, then left again. It didn't make sense but I never questioned it - he was a weird kid after all.
