Coffee Shop

• 09 •

Pushing my emotions down into my core was easy at first... until I got to the coffee shop.

The second I pushed the door open, all I saw was mayhem. Not only was Brian already working and barking orders at Shawn, but Rianne was there, too. She sorted through pastries as Shawn hastily prepared fresh coffee. The shop was filled to capacity and still, another person opened the door behind me and pushed his way in line.

Why are there so many people?

"Kay! You're late!" Brian noticed me standing at the door and quickly waved his hand over his head.

I knew I was late and hadn't called him, but... would that be my greeting? Brian was always so cheerful. Normally, I'd get a "Hello," or "How's your morning, Kay?"

This time, he didn't smile or look at me directly. He punched in the next order, scribbled on a cup, and called out, "NEXT!"

I knew I was late. I don't know why I expected more. Silly, Kay.

Shawn looked up at me as I rounded the counter and tried to smile, but it didn't meet his eyes. "Welcome to summer, sweets," he said with a shrug. Right after, he brought his voice down to a whisper, "Brian's having a bad day. So, apron, up."

"Apron up." I slid my hand around the back door and went beside Rianne. "Got it."

No time to apologize or explain. Got it.

On a good day, time went by faster than a high-speed jet. Today, time wouldn't move. The second hand glued itself to the numbers on the clock the moment it landed. But one minute was actually an hour. And an hour was a million years.

Still, I put on my brave face and followed orders like a good employee.

Brian sported his signature smile when he could to the customers, which was great. It kept them happy and smiling. When there was a table available, they'd sit and chat, telling the other people who walked in just how lovely the coffee shop was.

It was when he turned around to look at us you saw the frustration etched on his face. His brow pulled together tight, he sucked in hard breaths. He'd slide one hand over his hair while instructing us with the other, all non-verbal commands. Who would have thought that three blinks and a finger wave meant to wash out the canister and replace the doughnuts?

Not me, that's for sure. At least, not until today.

And that was how it went—you know, through the million years of the day—until the clock finally read 9:00 P.M. By then, Rianne and I stood in the back, sorting through trays that'd been used throughout the day. Brian and Shawn stayed out front, dealing with the last few customers who had walked in. We were supposed to clean, organize, and prep as much as we could for Monday, and yet, despite the tired look on Rianne's face, I couldn't control my curiosity as I heard Brian's voice outside the door.

"Did he say what happened?" I asked her, placing the small, silver tray she'd handed me on the shelf in front of me.

The metal clanged together, almost blocking out her, "Hm?"

"Today," I continued, "did he say what happened today?"

"With what?" Rianne lifted her brows as she looked at me. "Brian?"

I nodded.

"Oh, honey, it's just a bad day." As she wiped her hands on her apron, I watched the smile lift her lips. But it wasn't natural and pretty, like normal Rianne. It was forced and fake and didn't look good on her.

"Oh." I pursed my lips and reached for another tray. "It's just weird, that's all. He's normally so cheery and happy. Today he's just—"

"Grumpy?" Rianne dipped her head to one side, and I couldn't help but smile and nod. "Well, everyone's allowed to have a bad day, right?" she said. "He should be allowed tons of them. He wears his mask so well, you just never know what he's thinking, you know."