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

like it. Go take a break with that dog out there. Have you checked her for

sip of the ultra sweet beverage and sighing in bliss. “No collar,” I confirm with a shrug. “Huskies

scratches are gone.”

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

business is slow, Carlos regales me with

media news feeds. He’s been begging me to open up my own profile, but I always

last bastion of peace on earth. Which, yes, is a cringe level of melodramatic, but

soul.

250

Husky

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 tired that

of a

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

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

14:40 –

3/6

Husky (1)

a tiny square with a well–groomed tree popping out of it

toss the rag into the sink and think of the boxes everywhere in my apartment. I’ve made little headway in trying to clean and

finishes up with the money. “She’s waiting for you.”

would she be waiting for me?”

her treats all day? She probably thinks you’re going home together.”

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 way. What can I say? I have a soft spot for animals.