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 –

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13 Ava: Husky (1)

cup

of caramel–toffee mocha with an obscene amount

wink. “Here, just how you like it.

of the ultra sweet beverage and sighing in bliss. “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.”

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

Carlos

He’s been begging

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 very

soul.

250

Husky

after the sun set, 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

a little bit of

counts out the register, his fingers flying faster than I

friend is still out there?”

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,

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Ava Husky (1)

because there’s no yard near us, just a tiny square with a well–groomed

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

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

my eyes. “Why would she be waiting for

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

of muffin and croissant whenever I had a chance to toss them her way. What can I say? I have a soft