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"JUST ADMIT IT LIZ, I'm your favourite coworker." A smirk plays my lips as I finish wiping down the counter. Elizabeth flashes me a playful glare before turning away oh-so dramatically.
It's Sunday, meaning the weekend ends tomorrow and I'll be back to sitting through hours of boring lectures for most of the day. I've had shifts at the coffee shop these last two days, making for a very uneventful weekend. The weather hasn't been nice, anyways. Rain pitter-patters against the windows lining the shop as street-goers huddle beneath the coverage of their umbrellas.
I release a sigh, only now beginning to realize how tense I'd been all day.
I'm mentally and physically unprepared to swing back into routine. Working at the shop helped me heaps by taking my mind off of life. I'm still finding it hard to adjust to this new situation of mine. All I see, all day, everyday, is designer clothes and conceited attitudes. Rich kids are a separate specimen of their own — but they bring in a lot of business to the shop. It makes more sense as to why the price of coffee is so ridiculously high.
"I'm not admitting to anything." She hums, beginning to take note of our product stock and what the shop needs to order. She's very on the ball when it comes to these things. I understand why the owners of this place made her manager now.
Right now I'm more worried about pestering her than devoting myself to being a barista— call me a terrible employee, I don't mind. But seriously, I'm crazy happy to have at least one person who feels normal to talk to around here. Elizabeth is just a person. A nice person who has no sort of special status to hold over my head.
"Okay, blink twice for yes, once for no." I smile big, following her over to the stock cupboard above the machines. My hands are in my pockets, fiddling with the spare change I'd stuck in there earlier.
"We have customers Eden." Liz rolls her eyes, eyeing the till and gesturing for me to tend to the customers that just had to block my opportunity to get her to say I'm her favourite. And damnit— I almost got her to say it!
"Oh god." My eyes widen. It's Aleksandr.
What's worse — is that he's with the guy who had been so unwittingly rude to me the other day. I have one word: why? Why am I so unlucky and why is that guy allowed to be so unnervingly attractive?
And why is he with Aleks, of all people?
This has been a relatively easy shift, a slow day with not too many customers. I just had to be the one to come across these two.
Liz shocks me, clamping her hands on either side of my shoulders. "Hottie allert! I repeat, hottie allert." She yells into my ear. It takes me a moment to process that she's referring to Aleksandr and the bratty boy. My first instinct is to grimace.
