Night Burn

Chapter 3

The three of us finish the shift exhausted and damp with perspiration. The only source of airflow in the building is a scattered set of swamp coolers that aren't remotely sufficient to keep the building at a comfortable temperature. I pull my sweat-stained gray shirt away from my abdomen with a frown.

"One more for the books," Juan gasps, pulling his arm across his forehead to wipe the moisture away. His arm is similarly saturated, so he accomplishes little more than smearing it around.

Vanessa is fanning herself with both hands and looking around the floor for where she'd set her water bottle. I spot the heavily bedazzled jug tucked under the lip of the slide and motion to it. Bending over, she snatches it up and takes a long, satisfying drink.

I pocket my gloves and glance the large digital clock hanging over one of the bay doors. It shows it's only 7:48 AM, meaning we've finished a little early for the day. Figuring I have just enough time to grab breakfast on the way to campus, I begin walking towards the exit. Juan and Vanessa follow, whispering to each other in Spanish, likely hoping I won't hear them and add it to their tally. I decide to spare them this time, mostly due to the fact that I have my heart set on a blueberry bagel with strawberry cream cheese from Maggie's, which happens to be directly on my route to school.

Badging out of the main building, I push through the turnstiles, eager to be on my way.

"Larke!" I hear Vanessa call to me as I clock out. She has just made her way into the main lobby and is holding a solitary glove out to me.

"You dropped this."

I peek over my shoulder and see my other glove hanging precariously from my back pocket. I smile at her.

"Thanks!" I chirp, grabbing the glove from her and shoving it and the other one into one of the velcro side pockets of my cargo pants. Juan tugs on one of the messy tendrils hanging from my drooping ponytail.

"Don't forget, querida. 7:30, or it's your head." I give him a two-fingered salute and Vanessa a quick fist bump before rushing out to my car.

The sun is high in the sky at this point, and my seat wis hot against the back of my legs and lower back. I hiss as I start the ignition, excited for the A/C to kick on and help me to begin drying off and, hopefully, cooling down. Reaching behind my seat, I grab a pair of light blue slip-on Vans and exchange them for my work boots, tossing the heavy steel-toes into the back seat.

I pull quickly out of the lot and start down the road towards Maggie's, engaging in some quick mental math to figure out how I'd fit my morning routine into the newly allotted time. My lab starts promptly at 9:00 AM, and my professor, much like Mama Rosa, does not take kindly to stragglers. I usually try to squeeze in a quick shower at the Athletic Center before class and figure I'll still have enough time to do so, even with my extra stop.

Reaching an arm over to the passenger side, I pull my backpack out from under my sweater, propping it up on the seat. My phone, still in my back pocket, is digging uncomfortably into my right butt cheek, so I wedge it out with a glance at the screen before turning my eyes back to the road.

I have one new message, and I slide my finger over the screen in a practiced manner, unlocking it. I see that it's from my mother and I tap the message icon as I pull slowly up to a red light. Once at a full stop behind a dusty purple Honda Civic, I scan the message.

                  Mom: Rosa invited us for dinner. Are you going to be able to make it? I thought you                    had to work tonight. I love you XOXOX.

I huff a laugh at how quickly word travels and check the light. Still red, I type back a quick response.

                  Larke: I think so. I'm opening tonight and plan to beg Ramona to let me off a little                      early if we aren't busy. I think I still have the bruise from the last time I was late.