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

cream and slides it toward me with a wink. “Here, just how you like it. Go

with a shrug. “Huskies are notorious for running away. I’m sure she’ll wander her way

scratches are gone.”

a slow, meandering sort of way. People ebb and flow in a familiar pattern, and I’m surrounded by the scent of books and coffee. I

Carlos regales

social media news feeds. He’s been begging me to

don’t want anyone to find me here, in this last bastion of peace on earth. Which,

soul.

250

Ava: Husky

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 proud of you for

bit of a masochist for thinking

flip the sign on the door to ‘Closed‘ as he counts out the register, his

your furry friend is

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

14:40 –

3/6

Ava Husky (1)

near us, just a tiny square with a well–groomed tree popping out of it

made little headway in trying to

as he finishes up with

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

you’ve been sneaking her treats all day? She probably thinks you’re

can’t help but laugh. It’s true, She’s been scarfing down bits of muffin and croissant whenever I had a