The Art of Letting You Go

money is money

After my mom's emotional speech I decided to get a job, and what other job could I have rather than one with Mason? I decided on The Split Bean as soon as I began looking for work. Hopefully I wouldn't be reminded of the kiss, though.

Working at a coffee shop wasn't exactly my idea of a job when I wrote that list. I was leaning more towards being a receptionist at a firm, being able to add business experience to my resume. However, money is money.

"Okay, lastly, this where we keep our aprons and caps. You're assigned your own with a printed name tag." Mason was giving me the inside scoop on The Split Bean. His manager was no where to be found apparently, which explains how Mason was always talking to me or leaving with me. 

He hands me my set of work clothes and I quickly put them on, eager to start working. 

"Are you excited for your first day?" Mason turns and looks at me with the widest grin I had ever seen. "Yes!" I squeal, gaining the attention of a group of people at the table closest to the counter. Excuse me for being excited.

"Okay, make me a coffee. All black." He stands back to give me space, crossing his arms and smiling at me expectantly. I move closer to the coffee machine and set a coffee mug under it. I stare at it for a moment, afraid I'll some how cause it to blow up. I decided on the biggest button and watch as coffee starts to pour out and into the mug. 

"Ha!" I turn and laugh as I face Mason with my victory. He's not celebrating with me, though. His view is stuck on some girls outside, and I connect the dots quickly.

"Is that her?" I ask, leaving the now done coffee in it's spot. He doesn't look away, he just nods. I take the mug in my hands and slowly wrap his around it, remembering how quick he was to gulp down the coffee I had made him at my house. 

To my luck he takes the mug and drinks from it before mumbling something about cleaning up the staff room. I allow him to walk away instead of pressuring him into talking. I look at the girls outside and sure enough they were holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes.

Eventually the girls move on but I leave Mason in the back to gather himself. Half an hour has passed since he's left me out here alone, and the store has grown completely empty. I did make one coffee though, it was to-go. I was still mentally patting myself on the back for making it without messing up.

I take this (paid) time to dig in my apron, pulling out the tiny notebook I had bought before getting this job. I find a pen resting on the counter and lean over it to start writing. The first thing that comes to mind is Olly, of course. How couldn't I always be thinking about him when I had no idea where he was?

You left but took me with you. I never asked you to.

I can barely see where we are as you lay me to rest in the pocket of your jeans.

Though I feel at home whenever I hear you whisper I love you.

I'll always wonder what you really mean.

I grow frustrated and crumple the paper up, throwing it into the nearest trash can. How would I ever write a book when I can't even write four simple lines? I decided to try again.

Two. 

A small number that holds so much more.

It takes two people to fight.

Two hearts to love.

All it takes is you and I.

Trying to make this right.

I let out another sigh, throwing yet another piece of paper into the trash. I quickly hide my notepad as I hear the door to the back room open. A hand lands on my shoulder as Mason enters my line of view.

"How's it going out here?" He asks.

"Well, before it was a ghost town, I made one cup of coffee in total!" I say and try my best to lighten his mood. I think it works as I see him lend me a small smile.

"Slow day, lucky enough for you." He chuckles, pulling the plug from the coffee machine.

"What are you doing? It doesn't close until six thirty." I comment, surprised at his actions of closing up shop early.

"We can do whatever we want as long as the manager says we can." He smirks and walks away, putting his apron and cap onto the hooks. "Did you call them?" I ask, not really sure I want to close up early on my first day.

"I don't have to, I'm right here." He laughs. It takes me a few minutes to realize what he's hinting to.

"You're the manager?!" I gasp. How could Mason manage this place at the age of seventeen? I feel so proud of him, while also feeling a little jealous because I hadn't accomplished anything in my life yet.

-

"Miss. Michelson. Wake up." I lift my head off the desk and attempt to wipe the drool from my mouth in a classy manner. No luck.

"Why are you so tired today?" Mason whispers, careful to not catch any attention from the teacher. I didn't even realize I had fallen asleep. 

Last night, after work, I told my mom about how easy the job was and how I tried to start writing again but felt like everything I had to say had already been said. Thinking of the poems I wrote actually made me cringe. She told me to write into the early morning. She thought my subconscious would peek through and write something good for me while I was in and out of sleep. 

"Late night." I respond, flattening my hair. Mason directed his attention back to the board, probably tired out of his mind too. I wonder how hard it was to manage a coffee place. Who else works there?

The bell rings just in time as I notice my head slowly making its way to the desk again. I try my best to hurry out of the class before my teacher pulls me over for a word.

"Av, here. You left these at work." Mason said, putting two pieces of paper in my hand as he leaves the classroom before me. I unraveled them to reveal the poems I had wrote at work last night. 

A smile creeps across my face. A part of me is glad he gave them to me instead of throwing it out. I walk to my next class as I pull out my phone, deciding to see what I had missed. It died last night and I only got to charge it in Logan's car this morning.

Olly: Miss u :(

I swear my heart skipped at least eight beats. My eyes flutter as they read the text over and over. My mind was racing, he was thinking of me. He had the courage to tell me. He was opening up to me.

Suddenly I was full of inspiration and ready to write.