for, liar

Chapter 8

"That is none of your concern, Breanna."

"Everyone's been so secretive lately! I don't get it!"

I fling my keys on the rack next to the door and head upstairs to my room. I don't know what it is about everyone in my life being sketchy all of a sudden. I drag my hands down my face and check the time on my phone. I've got an hour until I have to leave so I'm able to clear some headspace with a shower. I'm really bad about making sure the water is boiling hot in order to be relaxed. I can't help that I'm naturally cold and this is the only way to effectively satisfy myself.

My phone buzzes when I step out. I slowly wrap my towel around my body and step into my bedroom before I check it. Before even listening to the message- I'm instantly thrown off by Ben's name appearing on my screen. I groan under my breath, unlock it, and brace myself for a shitty mediocre rant about how he probably wants me to "just be happy" and he will "do whatever is right for me."

"I know I'm the last person you want to hear from..."

You got that right, buddy. What is it about him not taking a damn hint? He ended it, I was sad about it, I got over it, and now I'm better. Why does he want to do this now?

"I just wanted to clear up some air because I know our talk probably wasn't enough for you. I know it wasn't enough for me. I let my worry and judgement get the best of me and never fully took the time to understand what you were going through. I admit that the depletion of our relationship was my fault and I didn't work hard enough to save it. I'm sorry that I hurt you. I had a lot of thinking to do and I just wanted to try to make things work because I really care about you. You don't have to respond to this message. If you decide to, we can always meet up somewhere to really talk. Regardless, I'll never stop loving you."

There he goes again, drawing me back in like a drug. I respect his passion and honesty but being in a relationship right now is the least of my worries. I decided not to respond to him just yet, in order to clear my mind a little more. It's going to really take some time deciding if I want to continue this immature high school bullshit or focus on what's really important; my career.

I tidy up my room as best as I can in the half hour I have before I have to leave. I think today might be the first time in a while that I'm not dreading going to work. At least there I can distract myself with other problems and get paid for it.

The drive downtown seems much longer today. I'm excited to be moving here so I don't have to drive almost an hour to get to work every day. I've had this job since the summer after high school and somehow made it work throughout college being a part-time employee. I never thought I'd want to be a barista because even though I've always had a strong love for coffee, I didn't want to have to conform to customers and their undying need of ruining the far from chaotic atmosphere to yell at me for putting foam in their cappuccino. Cappuccinos are made with mostly foam.

Scream Beans is the first coffee shop who altered that chaos before any real angry customer had the chance. My boss, Catherine Webster, used to work at her own local café in Chicago. She started when she was sixteen and realized not long after that she would encounter the worst types of people in existence through their mutual love and addiction for caffeine and sugar. She wrote a book of her experiences of being a young Illinois barista in a perilous part of town where she would rat out the worst customers she's ever dealt with. It became a bestseller and she was able to save up enough money to open up her own shop here in Charlotte.

Our café is nothing like any other one because here we're allowed to tell customers every ounce of truth on how extra and unnecessary they're being. We have a disclaimer planted on the front of the door and in the store noting, "If you don't want to be cursed or yelled at for being an asshole then G.T.F.O."

Scream Beans is not only known for being the one coffee shop where the baristas fight back at the customers without any consequences, but we also sell an overly caffeinated mean cup of Joe that is guaranteed to keep you awake for an all-nighter and cure your sugar tooth, if need be. I don't know how Catherine was able to safely and legally adapt her creation but me and all her loyal customers are sure glad that she did.

I park my car right in front of the door as a minivan with a very angry looking woman behind the wheel whips out of the parking lot into oncoming traffic. She must not have read the disclaimer.

I grab my mini work backpack from the passenger's seat and head inside to the back room. My coworker, Jesse, is sitting back there on his phone. I hang my bag up on the wall hook and take my apron from it.

"Are you on your break?" I ask.

He continues to scroll through his Instagram feed and shakes his head. "Nope." He mumbles.

I laugh and slide the neck of the apron over my head. I reach behind me and securely tie the strings around my torso. "Is Cat not coming by today? That's why you're all acting like you don't care?"

He turns his chair to face me and sets his phone down. "She said she's going to be out of town for a few days. She also said you're in charge of the floor whenever you're on."

I groan and tie my hair up. I don't mind running the floor but it's hard to multitask when I'm trying to make drinks as well. "As long as I don't have to work with Lana. She gets on my nerves."

Lana is another one of Catherine's assistant managers. Thankfully, I never have to work with her because Cat doesn't like when two assistants work together. None of us will learn from our mistakes that way and it's easier to blame the other when something goes horribly wrong.

"Well I'm about to be clocked on so get off your ass and make sure the lobby looks halfway decent."

He rolls his eyes and stands up from the chair. "Yes, mom."

He walks past me giving me the opportunity to ruffle my hand hard over his head. Jesse is a little devil, but he works hard when he actually tries. He laughs and flips me off before heading onto the floor. I walk out behind him and grab the printed schedule to see who gets off next. I was able to zone out the yelling at the end of the bar until I realized this customer was actually really mad.

"You're an idiot! You did this shit on purpose! What is with you guys!" He screams.

Avery, one of our newer baristas, slams the milk steaming pitcher down. He points to the sign on the wall next to the espresso machine. "Read the disclaimer and get your head out of your ass! I'm just doing my job."

The customer's eyes widen as he reads over the words in his head. His eyebrows furrow and he crosses his arms in disgust.

"I'm sorry you don't know how to read when entering the establishment. Here's your latte."

He slides the cup to the man who yanks it up and stomps out. Most people know our goal, while others clearly have never heard of this place and what we are allowed to do here. I shake my head and continue reading over the schedule.

:Revised