Tangled

13 Ava: Husky (II)

Carlos‘ words bring me out of my little mini–funk, and I nod. “I need to make as much money as I can before the summer semester. I’m going to need money for tuition, books, miscellaneous fees, and then hopefully a car. Between rent and life necessities, I really need the overtime. I’m lucky Mrs. Elkins is even letting me

work this much.”

He nods, wiping down the counter as I replenish napkins in the dispenser. “She’s got a way about her.

Takes care of us all. Sometimes I wonder if she’s even making money off this place. We sell a lot of coffee, but not so many books.”

He’s not wrong; I’ve thought the same. My shoulders lift in a vague shrug, and I start cleaning off the end tables of newspapers, magazines, and books.

“I have no idea, but I can’t imagine she would run a business just to lose money.” I pause, thinking of the sweet old lady and how she treats every customer who enters her shop like family. “Would she?”

“Wouldn’t put it past her.” Carlos puts together a sinful

14:40 –

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13 Ava: Husky (1)

cup

of caramel–toffee mocha with an obscene amount

toward me with a wink. “Here, just how you like it. Go take a break with that dog out there. Have you checked her for a

the ultra sweet beverage and sighing in bliss. “No collar,” I confirm with a shrug. “Huskies are notorious for running away. I’m sure she’ll wander her way

scratches are gone.”

People ebb and flow in a familiar pattern, and I’m surrounded by the scent of books and coffee. I don’t think I’ve ever felt peace like I do here, working at the Novel

business is slow, Carlos regales

he reads on his social media news feeds. He’s been begging me to open up my own profile, but I

want anyone to find me here, in this last bastion of peace on earth. Which, yes, is a cringe level of melodramatic, but it’s how I feel down to

soul.

250

Ava: Husky

time to wipe down the last of the tables, gathering stray cups and napkins and tossing them into the trash. I’m exhausted from the double shift, but it’s the kind of tired that burrows deep into your bones and says you’ve worked hard. Like your body’s

of a masochist for thinking

flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed‘ as he counts out the register, his fingers flying faster than I would have ever thought possible

furry friend is still out

struck by those eyes so eerily similar to my own, and I feel a bizarre tug in my chest. I want to take her home, but

14:40 –

3/6

Husky

with a well–groomed tree popping

I’ve made little headway in trying to clean and organize everything, mainly because I’m taking

jingle as he finishes up with the money. “She’s waiting

roll my eyes. “Why would she be waiting for me?”

been sneaking her treats all day? She probably thinks

I had a chance to toss them her way. What can I say? I have a soft spot for animals.