Kim Pine's Precious Little Knives

Chapter 6

I actually didn't see much of her for the next week. First and foremost, because Comeau took a week off to go do something arty so his shifts fell in my lap, and secondly because...

Well, I don't know. She just wasn't around. It started to worry me after the first few days. Did I just act too surly and actually drive away the only ray of sunshine in my otherwise drab world? Listen to me wax fucking poetic. Been talking to Steph too much, maybe.

But when she popped back up again, it was where I was least expecting it.

I had gone into Tim Horton's to use the washrooms — that's all, I think they're just barely better than the swill at Starbucks and equally overpriced. While I was peeing, I heard from the next stall...

"KIM?!"

So this next thing isn't all that easy for me to tell you about. I let out a HUGE fart. I mean, she literally scared it out of me so I think I can be forgiven, but the entire washroom went pretty quiet right after that was pretty loud. Just about the most embarrassing moment of my short, sweet existence.

Clearing my throat, I tried to make my voice higher and reedier, like an old lady's voice. "Sorry, dear, I don't know who Kim is!"

"Come on, Kim, I know it's you! I can see that freckle on your toe!" My toes scrunched in on themselves, digging into the flip flops. "Too late!"

"Why would you even have noticed that?!" I demanded, hating that she caught me like this. Seriously, if the toilet flushed and sucked me down into an unknown subspace pocket, I'd have been grateful.

"Last week, while we were kicking back at your coffee table and listening to music?" Her running shoes scuffed nervously at the tile. "Noticed you have a freckle there since we weren't doing much of anything else. Dunno why, guess I just think it's cute."

"I have plenty of freckles. Why is this one cute?"

"Because it's in the middle of your middle toe? Not really sure..." Then I heard her flush. "So, whatcha up to?"

"Trying to pee. Which I did, a little prematurely. But at least I already had my pants down, so I guess it could have been way worse. Why, what about you?"

As I emerged from the stall, I expected her to be out there already. But she was going, "Hang on, just getting things situated..." There was a little rustling, and then she emerged with her arms spread wide, as if giving a glorious reveal...

Wearing a barista uniform. For the antichrist conglomerate slowly devouring Canada.

"You work here now?!" I exclaimed, glancing up and down the brown-and-black uniform, at the little visor perched atop her head. "Why? I thought you had a job at Second Cup."

"I had to quit when I went to uni," she said reasonably as she went to wash her hands, glancing down at her slacks and then back over at me when I joined her at the sink. "But um, I wanted to have a little more spending money when I get back for my second year, y'know? And Second Cup is fully staffed right now, and so is Delicious Cup — I already asked. And with Julie working there..."

"Nah, I get you." Seriously, somebody needed to smack some sense into Powers.

Towelling off her hands, she asked, "What are you doing here? I thought you hated Timmy."

"Well, 'hate' is a strong word..." An accurate one. Though I'll admit, I got some really shitty service in Montreal one year that kind of solidified it from disinterest to hate. "Just needed to use the can."

"Right. Well, we do have one of those!"

"Yeah. Um..." My voice was quavering a little, I felt stupid. "Sorry for... y'know, when I..."