A Firefly's Glow

Chapter Fifteen: Part Three

“Okay, what is the matter with you?”

I snapped back into reality. “Excuse me?”

Sora stood before me with her hands on her hips. A concerned frown was plastered over her face.

“We’ve been sitting here with no customers for half an hour and all you’ve done is sit and stare into space!”

“There are no customers because you didn’t flip over the sign that says ‘Sorry, we’re closed’ to the back, where it says ‘Yes, we’re open’.” I bluntly responded with my cheek still resting in the palm of my hand.

Sora flung her gaze at the sign that hung on the window beside the door. When she turned back towards me, her face was morphed into an epic glare with bared teeth and all.

“Why didn’t you tell me that a half hour ago?”

“Because I noticed it a half hour later than you should have.”

Sora marched over to the window and her grumbles stumbled through the room. She vigorously slapped the “Yes, we’re open” side of the sign against the window

As she stormed back towards me, she growled, “Why can’t those geniuses just cup their faces into their hands and look inside the windows to see that there are two employees eager for money?!”

“Because if the sign says it’s closed, they think that it’s closed. They believe that the people working here are smart and they remember to turn over the open/closed sign.”

“You’re one of the ones that forgot too, y’ know!”

“I know.”

“Well, whatever. It’s a good thing you reminded me before Mikan came. She would have suffocated from the emptiness of the cash register.”

“Mmm . . .” I answered with a distracted daze.

“Okay, what is the matter with you? You’re still just sitting here! It’s like you’re a ghost or a statue or something! Speak, apparition!”

“There’s nothing wrong,” I murmured, conscious that I wasn’t looking directly at Sora when I said this. “I just went through some stuff today.”

“Tell me about it,” Sora hopped into a chair beside mine, slamming down her fists onto the table and eying me in curiousness.

I turned my head towards her, still dazed. “Forget it.”

“Tell.”

“Why and how did Mikan let you carry the key?” I asked, attempting to lead Sora away from the subject of what I was thinking about.

To my pleasure, it worked.

“Mikan gave me a spare key last night,” Sora informed. “She said that her parent’s restaurant might be low on waiters and employees and stuff, so she told me to be in charge.”

“She left you in charge.”

Sora glanced towards the ceiling. “Um . . .”

“Sora . . .”

“No, not really,” Sora squirmed in her seat. “She said I should leave you in charge, but,” Sora’s voice lightly trailed off its course in volume, but it gained back its speed in a few seconds. “But I like being in charge, so—“

“You can be in charge,” I insisted, waving a hand into the air. “Just don’t break anything or injure anyone.”

Sora chirped a bunch of ecstatic cheers. As she did, I glanced down at the table. My packet of Script 13  sat before me, closed.