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

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

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

scratches are gone.”

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

slow, Carlos regales

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

Which, yes, is a cringe level of melodramatic, but it’s how I

soul.

250

Husky (0)

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

maybe I’m a little bit of a masochist for thinking that way.

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

your furry friend is

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 tiny apartment above a store. I’m not even sure where she’s gone

14:40 –

3/6

Husky

because there’s no yard near us, just a tiny square with a well–groomed tree popping out of it in the middle of the sidewalk.

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

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

“Why would she be waiting

because you’ve 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 for animals.