nefelibata (n.) | ✔️

six.

Present. September 8th, 2018.

I'm not exactly sure why I can't get Waterfront Boy out of my head since two days ago when he confessed that he found out my name. I barely know the kid, and he's the only thing that has been on my mind lately. That makes me sound like a stalker.

Perhaps it's his consistent texts that make their way onto my phone asking if I'm "still mad at him."

A part of me is hoping that Carson will forget about my existence, meet Brooklyn or some other "hot" girl, and fall into the popularity rabbit hole. Another part of me hopes that he won't, the stronger part may I add. It would be nice to have a friend, but I've been through this before. I talk to someone for a little while, they find out the rumors about me, and then get creeped out and leave.

My Saturday consists of blatantly stupid thoughts with absolutely no meaning, once again. I want to look for work, something simple in the village that I could walk to every day. I'd love to work at the movie theater but Brooklyn's "friends," more like victims, made sure that that would never happen. The Italian Ice place is only open in the Summer, and I won't be caught dead in the hangout spot of Freeport High's most lovely students. Sarcasm, a beautiful thing. It'd be a dream come true to work at Camila's art gallery, but I'm too scared to ask, I feel like it'd be too much considering she already pays me to watch her kid.

I stop into Lenny's Coffee Shop to get myself my usual to keep me awake considering I woke up three hours earlier than usual. Eight in the morning on a Saturday? Who am I and what have I done with the sane me?

"Hi there, Lena. How ya doin' lovely?" Lenny greets me at the counter, holding a rag and a spray bottle of water in each hand. I take his warm smile and try my best to give him the best one that I can return.

"I'm good, Lenny. Just trying to piece together some parts of life." I laugh to myself at the uncertainty of that sentence. I think a part of me only wants a job, so I have an excuse to be away from my mother.

"How so?" He asks as he plugs in my order to the cash register. He shouts my order to the back, and the shuffling immediately fills my ears.

"Looking for a job in the village somewhere but it doesn't seem like anything would fit me." I sigh, moving my weight onto my right foot and tapping in slowly.

Lenny's eyes widen after I say this, making my confusion grow. "Well, why don't you work here, silly?!" This time my eyes widen. I can't work for Lenny, can I?

"You want me to work here? I can't make coffee, Lenny." I shake my head with another laugh as if to excuse the idea of me ever being qualified to work here.

"No, no I don't think you could make coffee," I can't help but take small offense to that, but before I can argue, he continues. "But I could always use more help around the tables. Another waitress would be greatly appreciated." He explains. Somehow, this doesn't seem that bad of an idea after all.

"Can you give me a day or two to think about it?" I request, furrowing my brows.

Lenny nods with a smile. "Take as long as you need, Lena. There's always room for you here." I don't think I could explain how much I love Lenny. For him to offer me a job and to treat me as if I am a family member is insane, and it's much more than anything I could ever ask.

"Here's the Caramel Latte, Pop." Carson comes up behind Lenny, handing him my order and a black cloud storm rises over my head. He works here? If he does end up forgetting all about me, like I know he will, in a couple of days than I don't want to be working here just to be reminded of it. God, I sound like such a pussy. Maybe I shouldn't have gotten off those anxiety meds, after all. "For Lena, of course." This makes my gaze snap back to Carson. I offer him a small smile and take it out of his hands. Suddenly, my makeup freed face has me concerned and somewhat self-conscious.