candy lovers | aspir | ✓

18 | caramel

For the dancers,

"There is no remedy for dance, but to dance more."

- Henry David Thoreau.

__________

CH 18

"So what do you do, on this day of prom?" Phoebe asks as she wipes the counter with a greasy cloth, that hardly serves it's purpose.

"We dance, we eat, they announce prom King and Queen, we go to an after party, get drunk, end of story," Layla says, monotonously, as she flips through my designs book.

Herself and Leanna, are busy choosing a dress for prom from my collection, while I'm busy slurping down my third serving of the Nerdy Bum ice cream. "How come you don't know about prom?" I ask Phoebe.

"Because I'm home-schooled, duh!" She swings the cloth high up into the air, and sticks her leg out to open the small dustbin in the corner. The cloth swivels down right into the mouth of the dustbin and it closes with a snap.

"That was amazing!" I clap my hands in astonishment. "How'd you learn that?"

"I've been practicing for a week now," she says with a bright smile.

"See, that's why you don't get a pay raise." Shane, the manager, comes out from the kitchen, flour dusted on his hair and apron. "And Phoebe, didn't I ask you to ice the chocolate cupcakes with vanilla? You've gone and frosted them with lemon buttercream." He comes to stand in front of Phoebe. "Who in the world is going to eat lemon frosted chocolate cupcakes?"

Phoebe's eyes twinkle brightly. "I know, I know! Me! I had two just while frosting them."

He stares at her warily before taking off his apron and hanging it on a wooden peg. "You act more like a customer than a waitress," he mutters bitterly.

"Oh cut her some slack!" I tell Shane.

He glares at me before swinging open the glass door, but before he can step out he looks back at Phoebe. "Ramos will be coming in a few minutes. I want you to bake those cookies, only with his supervision."

Phoebe nods at him, and then begins to take out a plastic bag with a number of paper cups in them.

"So who home-schools you?" I ask, as I swallow a spoon of the ice-cream.

"My grandmom," she says with a sweet smile.

"What about your parents? Are they too busy?"

She freezes for a second, her hand hovering above one of the paper cups. "Uh... Don't you know?"

It feels like someone's poured a bucket of ice down my back, because a slight shiver courses through my spine. I have a feeling that I know what she's about to say, but then it can't be! Her parents are probably too busy to home-school her. That has to be the answer right?

I mutely shake my head, preparing myself for the worst.

"Yeah, well they died in the 9/11 incident." She avoids my eye as she places cup after cup onto the counter.

"I'm sorry," I say, apologetically. Layla and Leanna stop flipping through the book, and they look up with sympathy.

"Hey don't look at me like that," she says with a soft chuckle, though I can tell that it's strained. "I'm fine... Hey do you guys want some cupcakes?"

Before we can reply, she ducks her head and then steps into the kitchen. Layla stands up to go behind her, but then I pull her back down. "Let her be alone for a moment," I tell her.