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

a wink. “Here, just how you like it. Go take a break with that dog out

sweet beverage and sighing in bliss. “No collar,” I confirm with a shrug. “Huskies are notorious for running away.

scratches are gone.”

day passes in 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 don’t think I’ve ever felt peace like

Carlos regales me

reads on his social media news feeds. He’s been

don’t 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 my

soul.

250

Ava: Husky (0)

It takes little time to wipe down the last of the tables, gathering stray cups and napkins and tossing

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

he counts out the register, his fingers flying faster than I would have ever thought possible when going

your furry friend is still out there?”

eerily similar to my own, and I feel a bizarre tug in my chest. I want to take her home, but that

14:40 –

3/6

Husky (1)

no yard near us, just a tiny square with a well–groomed tree

sink and think of the boxes everywhere in my apartment. I’ve made little headway in

jingle as he finishes up with the money.

eyes. “Why would she be waiting

day? She probably thinks you’re going

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