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

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

“No collar,” I confirm with a shrug. “Huskies are notorious for running away. I’m sure she’ll wander her way back home when all the free

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

business is slow, Carlos

been begging me to open up my own

of peace on earth. Which, yes, is a cringe level of melodramatic, but it’s how I feel down to

soul.

250

Husky (0)

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 tired that burrows deep into your bones and says you’ve worked hard. Like your body’s

maybe I’m a little bit of a masochist for thinking

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

is

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

14:40 –

3/6

Ava Husky

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

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

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

would she

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

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