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

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

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

scratches are gone.”

by the scent of books and coffee. I don’t think I’ve ever felt peace like I do here, working at

slow, Carlos

he reads on his social media news feeds. He’s been begging me to

of peace on earth. Which, yes, is a cringe level of melodramatic, but it’s

soul.

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Ava: Husky

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

little bit of

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

furry friend is still out there?”

pushed against the 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 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 all day to do her

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Ava Husky

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

everywhere in my apartment. I’ve made little headway in trying to clean and organize everything, mainly because

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

would she be waiting

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