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 –

176

13 Ava: Husky (1)

cup

of caramel–toffee mocha with an obscene amount

it. Go take a break with that dog out

with a shrug. “Huskies are

scratches are gone.”

I’m surrounded by the scent of books and coffee. I don’t think I’ve ever felt peace like I do

slow, Carlos regales me

social media news feeds. He’s been begging

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

soul.

250

Husky

it’s finally time to close, and the husky is still there, asleep on the sidewalk in front of our door. It takes little 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

bit of a masochist for thinking that

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

is still out there?”

with her nose pushed against the glass, her pants leaving a foggy haze against it. Once again I’m 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 that doesn’t seem intelligent. I live in a

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Ava Husky

a well–groomed tree popping out of it in the

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

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

eyes. “Why would

her treats all day? She probably thinks you’re

help but laugh. It’s true, She’s been scarfing down bits of muffin and croissant whenever I had a chance to toss them her